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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* - - - - - -This etext was prepared by KENNETH DAVID COOPER <cooper.kd@bigpond.com> - - - - - -DR THORNE - -by Anthony Trollope - - - - -CONTENTS - -I THE GRESHAMS OF GRESHAMSBURY -II LONG, LONG AGO -III DR THORNE -IV LESSONS FROM COURCY CASTLE -V FRANK GRESHAM'S FIRST SPEECH -VI FRANK GRESHAM'S EARLY LOVES -VII THE DOCTOR'S GARDEN -VIII MATRIMONIAL PROSPECTS -IX SIR ROGER SCATCHERD -X SIR ROGER'S WILL -XI THE DOCTOR DRINKS HIS TEA -XII WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK, THEN COMES THE TUG OF WAR -XIII THE TWO UNCLES -XIV SENTENCE OF EXILE -XV COURCY -XVII MISS DUNSTABLE -XVIII THE RIVALS -XIX THE DUKE OF OMNIUM -XX THE PROPOSAL -XXI MR MOFFAT FALLS INTO TROUBLE -XXII SIR ROGER IS UNSEATED -XXIII RETROSPECTIVE -XXIV LOUIS SCATCHERD -XXV SIR ROGER DIES -XXVI WAR -XXVII MISS THORNE GOES ON A VISIT -XXVIII THE DOCTOR HEARS SOMETHING TO HIS ADVANTAGE -XXIX THE DONKEY RIDE -XXX POST PRANDIAL -XXXI THE SMALL END OF THE WEDGE -XXXII MR ORIEL -XXXIII A MORNING VISIT -XXXIV A BAROUCHE AND FOUR ARRIVES AT GRESHAMSBURY -XXXV SIR LOUIS GOES OUT TO DINNER -XXXVI WILL HE COME AGAIN? -XXXVII SIR LOUIS LEAVES GRESHAMSBURY -XXXVIII DE COURCY PRECEPTS AND DE COURCY PRACTICE -XXXIX WHAT THE WORLD SAYS ABOUT BLOOD -XL THE TWO DOCTORS CHANGE PATIENTS -XLI DOCTOR THORNE WON'T INTERFERE -XLII WHAT CAN YOU GIVE IN RETURN? -XLIII THE RACE OF SCATCHERD BECOMES EXTINCT -XLIV SATURDAY EVENING AND SUNDAY MORNING -XLV LAW BUSINESS IN LONDON -XLVI OUR PET FOX FINDS A TAIL -XLVII HOW THE BRIDE WAS RECEIVED, AND WHO WERE ASKED TO THE WEDDING - - - - -DOCTOR THORNE - - - -CHAPTER I - -THE GRESHAMS OF GRESHAMSBURY - -Before the reader is introduced to the modest country medical -practitioner who is to be the chief personage of the following tale, it -will be well that he should be made acquainted with some particulars as -to the locality in which, and the neighbours among whom, our doctor -followed his profession. - -There is a county in the west of England not so full of life, indeed, -nor so widely spoken of as some of its manufacturing leviathan brethren -in the north, but which is, nevertheless, very dear to those who know -it well. Its green pastures, its waving wheat, its deep and shady -and--let us add--dirty lanes, its paths and stiles, its tawny-coloured, -well-built rural churches, its avenues of beeches, and frequent Tudor -mansions, its constant county hunt, its social graces, and the general -air of clanship which pervades it, has made it to its own inhabitants a -favoured land of Goshen. It is purely agricultural; agricultural in -its produce, agricultural in its poor, and agricultural in its -pleasures. There are towns in it, of course; depots from whence are -brought seeds and groceries, ribbons and fire-shovels; in which markets -are held and county balls are carried on; which return members to -Parliament, generally--in spite of Reform Bills, past, present, and -coming--in accordance with the dictates of some neighbouring land -magnate; from whence emanate the country postmen, and where is located -the supply of post-horses necessary for county visitings. But these -towns add nothing to the importance of the county; dull, all but -death-like single streets. Each possesses two pumps, three hotels, ten -shops, fifteen beer-houses, a beadle, and a market-place. - -Indeed, the town population of the county reckons for nothing when the -importance of the county is discussed, with the exception, as before -said, of the assize town, which is also a cathedral city. Herein a -clerical aristocracy, which is certainly not without its due weight. A -resident bishop, a resident dean, an archdeacon, three or four resident -prebendaries, and all their numerous chaplains, vicars, and -ecclesiastical satellites, do make up a society sufficiently powerful -to be counted as something by the county squirearchy. In other respects -the greatness of Barsetshire depends wholly on the landed powers. - -Barsetshire, however, is not now so essentially one whole as it was -before the Reform Bill divided it. There is in these days an East -Barsetshire, and there is a West Barsetshire; and people conversant -with Barsetshire doings declare that they can already decipher some -difference of feeling, some division of interests. The eastern moiety -of the county is more purely Conservative than the western; there is, -or was, a taint of Peelism in the latter; and then, too, the residence -of two such great Whig magnates as the Duke of Omnium and the Earl De -Courcy in that locality in some degree overshadows and renders less -influential the gentlemen who live near them. - -It is to East Barsetshire that we are called. When the division above -spoken of was first contemplated, in those stormy days in which gallant -men were still combatting reform ministers, if not with hope, still -with spirit, the battle was fought by none more bravely than by John -Newbold Gresham of Greshamsbury, the member for Barsetshire. Fate, -however, and the Duke of Wellington were adverse, and in the following -Parliament John Newbold Gresham was only member for East Barsetshire. - -Whether or not it was true, as stated at the time, that the aspect of -the men with whom he was called on to associate at St Stephen's broke -his heart, it is not for us now to inquire. It is certainly true that -he did not live to see the first year of the reformed Parliament -brought to a close. - -The then Mr Gresham was not an old man at the time of his death, and -his eldest son, Francie Newbold Gresham, was a very young man; but, -notwithstanding his youth, and notwithstanding other grounds of -objection which stood in the way of such preferment, and which, it must -be explained, he was chosen in his father's place. The father's -services had been too recent, too well appreciated, too thoroughly in -unison with the feelings of those around him to allow of any other -choice; and in this way young Frank Gresham found himself member for -East Barsetshire, although the very men who elected him knew that they -had but slender ground for trusting him with their suffrages. - -Frank Gresham, though then only twenty four years of age, was a married -man, and a father. He had already chosen a wife, and by his choice had -given much ground of distrust to the men of East Barsetshire. He had -married no other than Lady Arabella De Courcy, the sister of the great -Whig earl who lived at Courcy Castle in the west; that earl who not -only had voted for the Reform Bill, but had been infamously active in -bringing over other young peers so to vote, and whose name therefore -stank in the nostrils of the staunch Tory squires of the county. - -Not only had Frank Gresham so wedded, but having thus improperly and -unpatriotically chosen a wife, he had added to his sins by becoming -recklessly intimate with his wife's relations. It is true that he -still called himself a Tory, belonged to the club of which his father -had been one of the most honoured members, and in the days of the great -battle got his head broken in a row, on the right side; but, -nevertheless, it was felt by the good men, true and blue, of East -Barsetshire, that a constant sojourner at Courcy Castle could not be -regarded as a consistent Tory. When, however, his father died, that -broken head served him in good stead: his sufferings in the cause were -made the most of; these, in unison with his father's merits, turned the -scale, and it was accordingly decided, at a meeting held at the George -and Dragon, at Barchester, that Frank Gresham should fill his father's -shoes. - -But Frank Gresham could not fill his father's shoes; they were too big -for him. He did become member for East Barsetshire, but he was such a -member--so lukewarm, so indifferent, so prone to associate with the -enemies of the good cause, so little willing to fight the good fight, -that he soon disgusted those who most dearly loved the memory of the -old squire. - -De Courcy Castle in those days had great allurements for a young man, -and all those allurements were made the most of to win over young -Gresham. His wife, who was a year or two older than himself, was a -fashionable woman, with thorough Whig tastes and aspirations, such as -became the daughter of a great Whig earl; she cared for politics, or -thought that she cared for them, more than her husband did; for a month -or two previous to her engagement she had been attached to the Court, -and had been made to believe that much of the policy of England's -rulers depended on the political intrigues of England's women. She was -one who would fain be doing something if she only knew how, and the -first important attempt she made was to turn her respectable young Tory -husband into a second-rate Whig bantling. As this lady's character -will, it is hoped, show itself in the following pages, we need not now -describe it more closely. - -It is not a bad thing to be son-in-law to a potent earl, member of -Parliament for a county, and a possessor of a fine old English seat, -and a fine old English fortune. As a very young man, Frank Gresham -found the life to which he was thus introduced agreeable enough. He -consoled himself as best he might for the blue looks with which he was -greeted by his own party, and took his revenge by consorting more -thoroughly than ever with his political adversaries. Foolishly, like a -foolish moth, he flew to the bright light, and, like the moths, of -course he burnt his wings. Early in 1833 he had become a member of -Parliament, and in the autumn of 1834 the dissolution came. Young -members of three had four-and-twenty do not think much of dissolutions, -forget the fancies of their constituents, and are too proud of the -present to calculate much as to the future. So it was with Mr Gresham. -His father had been member for Barsetshire all his life, and he looked -forward to similar prosperity as though it was part of his inheritance; -but he failed to take any of the steps which had secured his father's -seat. - -In the autumn of 1834 the dissolution came, and Frank Gresham, with his -honourable lady wife and all the De Courcys at his back, found that he -had mortally offended the county. - -To his great disgust another candidate was brought forward as a fellow -to his late colleague, and though he manfully fought the battle, and -spent ten thousand pounds in the contest, he could not recover his -position. A high Tory, with a great Whig interest to back him, is -never a popular person in England. No one can trust him, though there -may be those who are willing to place him, untrusted, in high -positions. Such was the case with Mr Gresham. There were many who -were willing, for family considerations, to keep him in Parliament; but -no one thought that he was fit to be there. The consequences were, -that a bitter and expensive contest ensued. Frank Gresham, when -twitted with being a Whig, foreswore the De Courcy family; and then, -when ridiculed as having been thrown over by the Tories, foreswore his -father's old friends. So between the two stools he fell to the ground, -and, as a politician, he never again rose to his feet. - -He never again rose to his feet; but twice again he made violent -efforts to do so. Elections in East Barsetshire, from various causes, -came quick upon each other in those days, and before he was -eight-and-twenty years of age Mr Gresham had three times contested the -county and been three times beaten. To speak the truth of him, his own -spirit would have been satisfied with the loss of the first ten -thousand pounds; but Lady Arabella was made of higher mettle. She had -married a man with a fine place and a fine fortune; but she had -nevertheless married a commoner and had in so far derogated from her -high birth. She felt that her husband should be by rights a member of -the House of Lords; but, if not, that it was at least essential that he -should have a seat in the lower chamber. She would be degrees sink -into nothing if she allowed herself to sit down, the mere wife of a -county squire. - -Thus instigated, Mr Gresham repeated the useless contest three times, -and repeated it each time at a serious cost. He lost his money, Lady -Arabella lost her temper, and things at Greshamsbury went on by no -means as prosperously as they had done in the days of the old squire. - -In the first twelve years of their marriage, children came fast into -the nursery at Greshamsbury. The first that was born was a boy; and in -those happy halcyon days, when the old squire was still alive, great -was the joy at the birth of an heir to Greshamsbury; bonfires gleamed -through the country-side, oxen were roasted whole, and the customary -paraphernalia of joy, usual to rich Britons on such occasions were gone -through with wondrous eclat. But when the tenth baby, and the ninth -little girl, was brought into the world, the outward show of joy was -not so great. - -Then other troubles came. Some of these little girls were sickly, some -very sickly. Lady Arabella had her faults, and they were such as were -extremely detrimental to her husband's happiness and her own; but that -of being an indifferent mother was not among them. She had worried her -husband daily for years because he was not in Parliament, she had -worried him because he would not furnish his house in Portman Square, -she had worried him because he objected to have more people carried -every winter at Greshamsbury Park than the house would hold; but now -she changed her tune and worried him because Selina coughed, because -Helena was hectic, because poor Sophy's spine was weak, and Matilda's -appetite was gone. - -Worrying from such causes was pardonable it will be said. So it was; -but the manner was hardly pardonable. Selina's cough was certainly not -fairly attributable to the old-fashioned furniture in Portman Square; -nor would Sophy's spine have been materially benefited by her father -having a seat in Parliament; and yet, to have heard Lady Arabella -discussing those matters in family conclave, one would have thought -that she would have expected such results. - -As it was, her poor weak darlings were carried about from London to -Brighton, from Brighton to some German baths, from the German baths -back to Torquay, and thence--as regarded the four we have named--to -that bourne from whence no further journey could be made under Lady -Arabella's directions. - -The one son and heir to Greshamsbury was named as his father, Francis -Newbold Gresham. He would have been the hero of our tale had not that -place been pre-occupied by the village doctor. As it is, those who -please may regard him. It is he who is to be our favourite young man, -to do the love scenes, to have his trials and his difficulties, and to -win through them or not, as the case may be. I am too old now to be a -hard-hearted author, and so it is probable that he may not die of a -broken heart. Those who don't approve of a middle-aged bachelor -country doctor as a hero, may take the heir to Greshamsbury in his -stead, and call the book, if it so please them, 'The Loves and -Adventures of Francis Newbold Gresham the Younger.' - -And Master Frank Gresham was not ill adapted for playing the part of a -hero of this sort. He did not share his sisters' ill-health, and -though the only boy of the family, he excelled all his sisters in -personal appearance. The Greshams from time immemorial had been -handsome. They were broad browed, blue-eyed, fair haired, born with -dimples in their chins, and that pleasant, aristocratic dangerous curl -of the upper lip which can equally express good humour or scorn. Young -Frank was every inch a Gresham, and was the darling of his father's -heart. - -The De Courcys had never been plain. There was too much hauteur, too -much pride, we may perhaps even fairly say, too much nobility in their -gait and manners, and even in their faces, to allow of their being -considered plain; but they were not a race nurtured by Venus or -Apollo. They were tall and thin, with high cheek-bones, high -foreheads, and large, dignified, cold eyes. The De Courcy girls all -had good hair; and, as they also possessed easy manners and powers of -talking, they managed to pass in the world for beauties till they were -absorbed in the matrimonial market, and the world at large cared no -longer whether they were beauties or not. The Misses Gresham were made -in the De Courcy mould, and were not on this account the less dear to -their mother. - -The two eldest, Augusta and Beatrice, lived, and were apparently likely -to live. The four next faded and died one after another--all in the -same sad year--and were laid in the neat, new cemetery at Torquay. Then -came a pair, born at one birth, weak, delicate, frail little flowers, -with dark hair and dark eyes, and thin, long, pale faces, with long, -bony hands, and long bony feet, whom men looked on as fated to follow -their sisters with quick steps. Hitherto, however, they had not -followed them, nor had they suffered as their sisters had suffered; and -some people at Greshamsbury attributed this to the fact that a change -had been made in the family medical practitioner. - -Then came the youngest of the flock, she whose birth we have said was -not heralded with loud joy; for when she came into the world, four -others with pale temples, wan, worn cheeks, and skeleton, white arms, -were awaiting permission to leave it. - -Such was the family when, in the year 1854, the eldest son came of -age. He had been educated at Harrow, and was now still at Cambridge; -but, of course, on such a day as this he was at home. That coming of -age must be a delightful time to a young man born to inherit broad -acres and wide wealth. Those full-mouthed congratulations; those warm -prayers with which his manhood is welcomed by the grey-haired seniors -of the county; the affectionate, all but motherly caresses of -neighbouring mothers who have seen him grow up from his cradle, of -mothers who have daughters, perhaps, fair enough, and good enough, and -sweet enough even for him; the soft-spoken, half-bashful, but tender -greetings of the girls, who now, perhaps for the first time, call him -by his stern family name, instructed by instinct rather than precept -that the time has come when the familiar Charles or familiar John must -by them be laid aside; the 'lucky dogs', and hints of silver spoons -which are poured into his ears as each young compeer slaps his back and -bids him live a thousand years and then never die; the shouting of the -tenantry, the good wishes of the old farmers who come up to wring his -hand, the kisses which he gets from the farmers' wives, and the kisses -which he gives to the farmers' daughters; all these things must make -the twenty-first birthday pleasant enough to a young heir. To a youth, -however, who feels that he is now liable to arrest, and that he -inherits no other privilege, the pleasure may very possibly not be -quite so keen. - -The case with young Frank Gresham may be supposed to much nearer the -former than the latter; but yet the ceremony of his coming of age was -by no means like that which fate had accorded to his father. Mr -Gresham was not an embarrassed man, and though the world did not know -it, or, at any rate, did not know that he was deeply embarrassed, he -had not the heart to throw open his mansion and receive the county with -a free hand as though all things were going well for him. - -Nothing was going well with him. Lady Arabella would allow nothing -near him or around him to be well. Everything with him was now turned -to vexation; he was no longer a joyous, happy man, and the people of -East Barsetshire did not look for gala doings on a grand scale when -young Gresham came of age. - -Gala doings, to a certain extent, there were there. It was in July, -and tables were spread under the oaks for the tenants. Tables were -spread, and meat and beer, and wine were there, and Frank, as he walked -round and shook his guests by the hand, expressed a hope that their -relations with each other might be long, close, and mutually -advantageous. - -We must say a few words now about the place itself. Greshamsbury Park -was a fine old Englishman's seat--was and is; but we can assert it more -easily in past tense, as we are speaking of it with reference to a past -time. We have spoken of Greshamsbury Park; there was a park so called, -but the mansion itself was generally known as Greshamsbury House, and -did not stand in the park. We may perhaps best describe it by saying -that the village of Greshamsbury consisted of one long, straggling -street, a mile in length, which in the centre turned sharp round, so -that one half of the street lay directly at right angles to the other. -In this angle stood Greshamsbury House, and the gardens and grounds -around it filled up the space so made. There was an entrance with -large gates at each end of the village, and each gate was guarded by -the effigies of two huge pagans with clubs, such being the crest borne -by the family; from each entrance a broad road, quite straight, running -through a majestic avenue of limes, led up to the house. This was -built in the richest, perhaps we should rather say in the purest, style -of Tudor architecture; so much so that, though Greshamsbury is less -complete than Longleat, less magnificent than Hatfield, it may in some -sense be said to be the finest specimen of Tudor architecture of which -the country can boast. - -It stands amid a multitude of trim gardens and stone-built terraces, -divided one from another: these to our eyes are not so attractive as -that broad expanse of lawn by which our country houses are generally -surrounded; but the gardens of Greshamsbury have been celebrated for -two centuries, and any Gresham who would have altered them would have -been considered to have destroyed one of the well-known landmarks of -the family. - -Greshamsbury Park--properly so called--spread far away on the other -side of the village. Opposite to the two great gates leading up to the -mansion were two smaller gates, the one opening onto the stables, -kennels, and farm-yard, and the other to the deer park. This latter -was the principal entrance to the demesne, and a grand and picturesque -entrance it was. the avenue of limes which on one side stretched up to -the house, was on the other extended for a quarter of a mile, and then -appeared to be terminated only by an abrupt rise in the ground. At the -entrance there were four savages and four clubs, two to each portal, -and what with the massive iron gates, surmounted by a stone wall, on -which stood the family arms supported by two other club-bearers, the -stone-built lodges, the Doric, ivy-covered columns which surrounded the -circle, the four grim savages, and the extent of the space itself -through which the high road ran, and which just abutted on the village, -the spot was sufficiently significant of old family greatness. - -Those who examined it more closely might see that under the arms was a -scroll bearing the Gresham motto, and that the words were repeated in -smaller letters under each of the savages. 'Gardez Gresham', had been -chosen in the days of motto-choosing probably by some herald-at-arms as -an appropriate legend for signifying the peculiar attributes of the -family. Now, however, unfortunately, men were not of one mind as to -the exact idea signified. Some declared, with much heraldic warmth, -that it was an address to the savages, calling on them to take care of -their patron; while others, with whom I myself am inclined to agree, -averred with equal certainty that it was an advice to the people at -large, especially to those inclined to rebel against the aristocracy of -the county, that the should 'beware the Gresham'. The latter -signification would betoken strength--so said the holders of the -doctrine; the former weakness. Now the Greshams were ever a strong -people, and never addicted to humility. - -We will not pretend to decide the question. Alas! either construction -was not equally unsuited to the family fortunes. Such changes had taken -place in England since the Greshams had founded themselves that no -savage could any longer in any way protect them; they must protect -themselves like common folk, or live unprotected. Nor now was it -necessary that any neighbour should shake in his shoes when the Gresham -frowned. It would have been to be wished that the present Gresham -himself could have been as indifferent to the frowns of some of his -neighbours. - -But the old symbols remained, and may such symbols long remain among -us; they are still lovely and fit to be loved. They tell us of the -true and manly feelings of other times; and to him who can read aright, -they explain more fully, more truly than any written history can do, -how Englishmen have become what they are. England is not yet a -commercial country in the sense that epithet is used for her; and let -us still hope that she will not soon become so. She might surely as -well be called feudal England, or chivalrous England. If in western -civilized Europe, there does exist a nation among whom there are high -signors, and with whom the owners of the land are the true aristocracy, -the aristocracy is trusted as being best and fittest to rule, that -nation is the English. Choose out the ten leading men of each great -European people. Choose them in France, in Austria, Sardinia, Prussia, -Russia, Sweden, Denmark, Spain (?), and then select the ten in England -whose names are best known as those of leading statesmen; the result -will show in which country there still exists the closest attachment -to, the sincerest trust in, the old feudal and now so-called landed -interests. - -England a commercial country! Yes; as Venice was. She may excel other -nations in commerce, but yet it is not that in which she most prides -herself, in which she most excels. Merchants as such are not the first -men among us; though it perhaps be open, barely open, to a merchant to -become one of them. Buying and selling is good and necessary; it is -very necessary, and may, possibly, be very good; but it cannot be the -noblest work of man; and let us hope that it may not be in your time be -esteemed the noblest work of any Englishman. - -Greshamsbury Park was very large; it lay on the outside of the angle -formed by the village street, and stretched away on two sides without -apparent limit or boundaries visible from the village road or house. -Indeed, the ground on this side was so broken up into abrupt hills, and -conical-shaped, oak-covered excrescences, which were seen peeping up -through and over each other, that the true extent of the park was much -magnified to the eye. It was very possible for a stranger to get into -it and to find some difficulty in getting out again by any of its known -gates; and such was the beauty of the landscape, that a lover or -scenery would be tempted thus to lose himself. - -I have said that on one side lay the kennels, and this will give me an -opportunity of describing here one especial episode, a long episode, in -the life of the existing squire. - -He had once represented his county in Parliament, and when he ceased to -do so he still felt an ambition to be connected in some peculiar way -with that county's greatness; he still desired that a Gresham of -Greshamsbury should be something more in East Barsetshire, than Jackson -of the Grange, or Baker of Mill Hill, or Bateson of Annesgrove. They -were all his friends, and very respectable country gentlemen; but Mr -Gresham of Greshamsbury should be more than this: even he had enough -ambition to be aware of such a longing. Therefore, when an opportunity -occurred he took to hunting the county. - -For this employment he was in every way well suited;--unless it was in -the matter of finance. Though he had in his very earliest manly years -given such great offence by indifference to his family politics, and -had in a certain degree fostered the ill-feeling by contesting the -county in opposition to the wishes of his brother squires, -nevertheless, he bore a loved and popular name. Men regretted that he -should not have been what they wished him to be, that he should not -have been such as was the old squire; but when they found that such was -the case, that he could not be great among them as a politician, they -were still willing that he should be great in any other way if there -were county greatness for which he was suited. Now he was known as an -excellent horseman, as a thorough sportsman, as one knowing in dogs, -and tender-hearted as a sucking mother to a litter of young foxes; he -had ridden in the county since he was fifteen, and had a fine voice for -a view hallo, knew every hound by name, and could wind a horn with -sufficient music for all hunting purposes; moreover, he had come to his -property, as was well known through all Barsetshire, with a clear -income of fourteen thousand a year. - -Thus, when some old worn-out master of hounds was run to ground, about -a year after Mr Gresham's last contest for the county, it seemed to all -parties to be a pleasant and rational arrangement that the hounds -should go to Greshamsbury. Pleasant, indeed, to all except the Lady -Arabella; and rational, perhaps, to all except the squire himself. - -All this time he was already considerable encumbered. He had spent -much more than he should have done, and so indeed had his wife, in -those two splendid years in which they had figured as great among the -great ones of the earth. Fourteen thousand a year ought to have been -enough to allow a member of Parliament with a young wife and two or -three children to live in London and keep up their country family -mansion; but then the De Courcys were very great people, and Lady -Arabella chose to live as she had been accustomed to do, and as her -sister-in-law the countess lived; now Lord de Courcy had much more than -fourteen thousand a year. Then came the three elections, with their -vast attendant cost, and then those costly expedients to which -gentlemen are forced to have recourse who have lived beyond their -income and find it impossible to reduce their establishments as to live -much below it. Thus when the hounds came to Greshamsbury, Mr Gresham -was already a poor man. - -Lady Arabella said much to oppose their coming; but Lady Arabella, -though it could hardly be said of her that she was under her husband's -rule, certainly was not entitled to boast that she had made him under -hers. She then made her first grand attack as to the furniture in -Portman Square; and was then for the first time specially informed that -the furniture there was not matter of much importance, as she would not -in future be required to move her family to that residence during the -London seasons. The sort of conversation which grew from such a -commencement may be imagined. Had Lady Arabella worried her lord less, -he might perhaps have considered with more coolness the folly of -encountering so prodigious an increase to the expense of his -establishment; had he not spent so much money in a pursuit which his -wife did not enjoy, she might perhaps have been more sparing in her -rebukes as to his indifference to her London pleasures. As it was, the -hounds came to Greshamsbury, and Lady Arabella did go to London for -some period in each year, and the family expenses were by no means -lessened. - -The kennels, however, were now again empty. Two years previous to the -time at which our story begins, the hounds had been carried off to the -seat of some richer sportsman. This was more felt by Mr Gresham than -any other misfortune which he had yet incurred. He had been master of -hounds for ten years, and that work he had at any rate done well. The -popularity among his neighbours which he had lost as a politician he -had regained as a sportsman, and he would fain have remained autocratic -in the hunt, had it been possible. But he so remained much longer than -he should have done, and at last they went away, not without signs and -sounds of visible joy on the part of Lady Arabella. - -But we have kept the Greshamsbury tenancy waiting under the oak-trees -by far too long. Yes; when young Frank came of age there was still -enough left at Greshamsbury, still means enough at the squire's -disposal, to light one bonfire, to roast, whole in its skin, one -bullock. Frank's virility came on him not quite unmarked, as that of -the parson's sons might do, or the son of a neighbouring attorney. It -could still be reported in the Barsetshire Conservative "Standard" that -'The beards waggled all,' at Greshamsbury, now as they had done for -many centuries on similar festivals. Yes; it was so reported. But -this, like so many other such reports, had but a shadow of truth in -it. 'They poured the liquor in,' certainly, those who were there; but -the beards did not wag as they had been wont to wag in former years. -Beards won't wag for the telling. The squire was at his wits' end for -money, and the tenants one and all had so heard. Rents had been raised -on them; timber had fallen fast; the lawyer on the estate was growing -rich; tradesmen in Barchester, nay, in Greshamsbury itself, were -beginning to mutter; and the squire himself would not be merry. Under -such circumstances the throats of the tenantry will still swallow, but -their beards will not wag. - -'I minds well,' said Farmer Oaklerath to his neighbour, 'when the -squire hisself comed of age. Lord love 'ee! There was fun going that -day. There was more yale dranke then than's been brewed at the big -house these two years. T'old squoire was a one'er.' - -'And I minds when the squoire was borned; minds it well,' said an old -farmer sitting opposite. 'Them was the days! It an't that long age -neither. Squoire a'nt come o' fifty yet; no, nor an't nigh it, though -he looks it. Things be altered at Greemsbury'--such was the rural -pronunciation--'altered sadly, neebor Oaklerath. Well, well; I'll soon -be gone, I will, and so it an't no use talking; but arter paying one -pound fifteen for them acres for more nor fifty year, I didn't think -I'd ever be axed for forty shilling.' - -Such was the style of conversation which went on at the various -tables. It had certainly been of a very different tone when the squire -was born, when he came of age, and when, just two years subsequently, -his son had been born. On each of these events similar rural fetes had -been given, and the squire himself had on these occasions been frequent -among his guests. On the first, he had been carried round by his -father, a whole train of ladies and nurses following. On the second, -he had himself mixed in all the sports, the gayest of the gay, and each -tenant had squeezed his way up to the lawn to get a sight of the Lady -Arabella, who, as was already known, was to come from Courcy Castle to -Greshamsbury to be their mistress. It was little they any of them -cared now for the Lady Arabella. On the third, he himself had borne -him; his child in his arms as his father had before borne him; he was -in the zenith of his pride, and though the tenantry had whispered that -he was somewhat less familiar with them than of yore, that he had put -on somewhat too much of the De Courcy airs, still he was their squire, -their master, the rich man in whose hand they lay. The old squire was -then gone, and they were proud of the young member and his lady bride -in spite of a little hauteur. None of them were proud of him now. - -He walked once round among the guests, and spoke a few words of welcome -at each table; and as he did so the tenants got up and bowed and wished -health to the old squire, happiness to the young one, and prosperity to -Greshamsbury; but, nevertheless, it was but a tame affair. - -There were also other visitors, of the gentle sort, to do honour to the -occasion; but not such swarms, not such a crowd at the mansion itself -and at the houses of the neighbouring gentry as had always been -collected on these former gala doings. Indeed, the party at -Greshamsbury was not a large one, and consisted chiefly of Lady de -Courcy and her suite. Lady Arabella still kept up, as far as she was -able, her close connexion with Courcy Castle. She was there as much as -possible, to which Mr Gresham never objected; and she took her -daughters there whenever she could, though, as regarded the two elder -girls, she was interfered with by Mr Gresham, and not unfrequently by -the girls themselves. Lady Arabella had a pride in her son, though he -was by no means her favourite child. He was, however, the heir of -Greshamsbury, of which fact she was disposed to make the most, and he -was also a fine open-hearted young man, who could not but be dear to -any mother. Lady Arabella did love him dearly, though she felt a sort -of disappointment in regard to him, seeing that he was not so much like -a De Courcy as he should have been. She did love him dearly; and, -therefore, when he came of age she got her sister-in-law and all the -Ladies Amelia, Rosina etc. to come to Greshamsbury; and she also, with -some difficulty, persuaded the Honourable Georges and the Honourable -Johns to be equally condescending. Lord de Courcy himself was in -attendance at the Court--or said that he was--and Lord Porlock, the -eldest son, simply told his aunt when he was invited that he never -bored himself with those sort of things. - -Then there were the Bakers, and the Batesons, and the Jacksons, who all -lived near and returned home at night; there was the Reverend Caleb -Oriel, the High-Church rector, with his beautiful sister Patience -Oriel; there was Mr Yates Umbleby, the attorney and agent; and there -was Dr Thorne, and the doctor's modest, quiet-looking little niece, -Miss Mary. - - - -CHAPTER II - -LONG, LONG AGO - -As Dr Thorne is our hero--or I should rather say my hero, a privilege -of selecting for themselves in this respect being left to all my -readers--and as Miss Mary Thorne is to be our heroine, a point on which -no choice whatsoever is left to any one, it is necessary that they -shall be introduced and explained and described in a proper, formal -manner. I feel quite an apology is due for beginning a novel with two -long dull chapters full of description. I am perfectly aware of the -danger of such a course. In so doing I sin against the golden rule -which requires us all to put our best foot foremost, the wisdom of -which is fully recognized by novelists, myself among the number. It -can hardly be expected that any one will consent to go through with a -fiction that offers so little allurement in its first pages; but twist -it as I will I cannot do otherwise. I find that I cannot make poor Mr -Gresham hem and haw and turn himself uneasily in his arm-chair in a -natural manner till I have said why he is uneasy. I cannot bring my -doctor speaking his mind freely among the bigwigs till I have explained -that it is in accordance with his usual character to do so. This is -unartistic on my part, and shows want of imagination as well as want of -skill. Whether or not I can atone for these faults by straightforward, -simple, plain story-telling--that, indeed, is very doubtful. - -Dr Thorne belonged to a family in one sense as good, and at any rate as -old, as that of Mr Gresham; and much older, he was apt to boast, than -that of the De Courcys. This trait in his character is mentioned -first, as it was the weakness for which he was most conspicuous. He -was second cousin to Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, a Barsetshire squire -living in the neighbourhood of Barchester, and who boasted that his -estate had remained in his family, descending from Thorne to Thorne, -longer than had been the case with any other estate or any other family -in the county. - -But Dr Thorne was only a second cousin; and, therefore, though he was -entitled to talk of the blood as belonging to some extent to himself, -he had no right to lay claim to any position in the county other than -such as he might win for himself if he chose to locate himself in it. -This was a fact of which no one was more fully aware than our doctor -himself. - -His father, who had been first cousin of a former Squire Thorne, had -been a clerical dignitary in Barchester, but had been dead now many -years. He had had two sons; one he had educated as a medical man, but -the other, and the younger, whom he had intended for the Bar, had not -betaken himself in any satisfactory way to any calling. This son had -been first rusticated from Oxford, and then expelled; and thence -returning to Barchester, had been the cause to his father and brother -of much suffering. - -Old Dr Thorne, the clergyman, died when the two brothers were yet young -men, and left behind him nothing but some household and other property -of the value of about two thousand pounds, which he bequeathed to -Thomas, the elder son, much more than that having been spent in -liquidating debts contracted by the younger. Up to that time there had -been close harmony between the Ullathorne family and that of the -clergyman; but a month or two before the doctor's death--the period of -which we are speaking was about two-and-twenty years before the -commencement of our story--the then Mr Thorne of Ullathorne had made it -understood that he would no longer receive at his house his cousin -Henry, whom he regarded as a disgrace to the family. - -Fathers are apt to be more lenient to their sons than uncles to their -nephews, or cousins to each other. Dr Thorne still hoped to reclaim -his black sheep, and thought that the head of his family showed an -unnecessary harshness in putting an obstacle in his way of doing so. -And if the father was warm in support of his profligate son, the young -medical aspirant was warmer in support of his profligate brother. Dr -Thorne, junior, was no roue himself, but perhaps, as a young man, he -had not sufficient abhorrence of his brother's vices. At any rate, he -stuck to him manfully; and when it was signified in the Close that -Henry's company was not considered desirable at Ullathorne, Dr Thomas -Thorne sent word to the squire that under such circumstances his visits -there would also cease. - -This was not very prudent, as the young Galen had elected to establish -himself in Barchester, very mainly in expectation for the help which -his Ullathorne connexion would give him. This, however, in his anger -he failed to consider; he was never known, either in early or in middle -life, to consider in his anger those points which were probably best -worth his consideration. This, perhaps, was of the less moment as his -anger was of an unenduring kind, evaporating frequently with more -celerity than he could get angry words out of his mouth. With the -Ullathorne people, however, he did establish a quarrel sufficiently -permanent to be of vital injury to his medical prospects. - -And then the father died, and the two brothers were left living -together with very little means between them. At this time there was -living in Barchester, people of the name of Scatcherd. Of that family, -as then existing, we have only to do with two, a brother and a sister. -They were in a low rank of life, the one being a journeyman -stone-mason, and the other an apprentice to a straw-bonnet maker; but -they were, nevertheless, in some sort remarkable people. The sister -was reputed in Barchester to be a model of female beauty of the strong -and robuster cast, and had also a better reputation as being a girl of -good character and honest, womanly conduct. Both of her beauty and of -her reputation her brother was exceedingly proud, and he was the more -so when he learnt that she had been asked in marriage by a decent -master-tradesman in the city. - -Roger Scatcherd had also a reputation, but not for beauty or propriety -of conduct. He was known for the best stone-mason in the four -counties, and as the man who could, on occasion, drink the most alcohol -in a given time in the same localities. As a workman, indeed, he had -higher reputation even than this: he was not only a good and very quick -stone-mason, but he had also a capacity for turning other men into good -stone-masons: he had a gift of knowing what a man could and should do; -and, by degrees, he taught himself what five, and ten, and -twenty--latterly, what a thousand and two thousand men might accomplish -among them: this, also, he did with very little aid from pen and paper, -with which he was not, and never became, very conversant. He had also -other gifts and other propensities. He could talk in a manner -dangerous to himself and to others; he could persuade without knowing -that he did so; and being himself an extreme demagogue, in those noisy -times just prior to the Reform Bill, he created a hubbub in Barchester -of which he himself had had no previous conception. - -Henry Thorne among his other bad qualities had one which his friends -regarded as worse than all the others, and which perhaps justified the -Ullathorne people in their severity. He loved to consort with low -people. He not only drank in tap-rooms with vulgar drinkers; so said -his friends, and so said his enemies. He denied the charge as being -made in the plural number, and declared that his only low co-reveller -was Roger Scatcherd. With Roger Scatcherd, at any rate, he associated, -and became as democratic as Roger himself. Now the Thornes of -Ullathorne were of the very highest order of Tory excellence. - -Whether or not Mary Scatcherd at once accepted the offer of the -respectable tradesman, I cannot say. After the occurrence of certain -events which must here shortly be told, she declared that she had never -done so. Her brother averred that she most positively had. The -respectable tradesman himself refused to speak on the subject. - -It is certain, however, that Scatcherd, who had hitherto been silent -enough about his sister in those social hours which he passed with his -gentleman friend, boasted of the engagement when it was, as he said, -made; and then boasted also of the girl's beauty. Scatcherd, in spite -of his occasional intemperance, looked up in the world, and the coming -marriage of his sister was, he thought, suitable to his own ambition -for his family. - -Henry Thorne had already heard of, and already seen, Mary Scatcherd; -but hitherto she had not fallen in the way of his wickedness. Now, -however, when he heard that she was to be decently married, the devil -tempted him to tempt her. It boots not to tell all the tale. It came -out clearly enough when all was told, that he made her most distinct -promises of marriage; he even gave her such in writing; and having in -this way obtained from her her company during some of her little -holidays--her Sundays or summer evenings--he seduced her. Scatcherd -accused him openly of having intoxicated her with drugs; and Thomas -Thorne, who took up the case, ultimately believed the charge. It -became known in Barchester that she was with child, and that the -seducer was Henry Thorne. - -Roger Scatcherd, when the news first reached him, filled himself with -drink, and then swore that he would kill them both. With manly wrath, -however, he set forth, first against the man, and that with manly -weapons. He took nothing with him but his fists and a big stick as he -went in search of Henry Thorne. - -The two brothers were then lodging together at a farm-house close -abutting on the town. This was not an eligible abode for a medical -practitioner; but the young doctor had not been able to settle himself -eligibly since his father's death; and wishing to put what constraint -he could upon his brother, had so located himself. To this farm-house -came Roger Scatcherd one sultry summer evening, his anger gleaming from -his bloodshot eyes, and his rage heightened to madness by the rapid -pace at which he had run from the city, and by the ardent spirits which -were fermenting within him. - -At the very gate of the farm-yard, standing placidly with his cigar in -his mouth, he encountered Henry Thorne. He had thought of searching -for him through the whole premises, of demanding his victim with loud -exclamations, and making his way to him through all obstacles. In lieu -of that, there stood the man before him. - -'Well, Roger, what's in the wind?' said Henry Thorne. - -They were the last words he ever spoke. He was answered by a blow from -the blackthorn. A contest ensued; which ended in Scatcherd keeping his -word--at any rate, as regarded the worst offender. How the fatal blow -on the temple was struck was never exactly determined; one medical man -said it might have been done in a fight with a heavy-headed stick; -another thought that a stone had been used; a third suggested a -stone-mason's hammer. It seemed, however, to be proved subsequently -that no hammer was taken out, and Scatcherd himself persisted in -declaring that he had taken in his hand no weapon but the stick. -Scatcherd, however, was drunk; and even though he intended to tell the -truth, may have been mistaken. There were, however, the facts that -Thorne was dead; that Scatcherd had sworn to kill him about an hour -previously; and that he had without delay accomplished the threat. He -was arrested and tried with murder, all the distressing circumstances -of the case came out on the trial: he was found guilty of -man-slaughter, and sentenced to be imprisoned for six months. Our -readers will probably think that the punishment was too severe. - -Thomas Thorne and the farmer were on the spot soon after Henry Thorne -had fallen. The brother was at first furious for vengeance against his -brother's murderer; but, as the facts came out, as he learnt what had -been the provocation given, what had been the feelings of Scatcherd -when he left the city, determined to punish him who had ruined his -sister, his heart was changed. Those were trying days for him. It -behoved him to do what in him lay to cover his brother's memory from -the obloquy which it deserved; it behoved him also to save, or to -assist to save, from undue punishment the unfortunate man who had shed -his brother's blood; and it behoved him also, at least so he thought, -to look after that poor fallen one whose misfortunes were less merited -than those either of his brother or of hers. - -And he was not the man to get through these things lightly, or with as -much ease as he perhaps might conscientiously have done. He would pay -for the defence of the prisoner; he would pay for the defence of his -brother's memory; and he would pay for the poor girl's comforts. He -would do this, and he would allow no one to help him. He stood alone -in the world, and insisted on so standing. Old Mr Thorne of Ullathorne -offered again to open his arms to him; but he had conceived a foolish -idea that his cousin's severity had driven his brother on to his bad -career, and he would consequently accept no kindness from Ullathorne. -Miss Thorne, the old squire's daughter--a cousin considerably older -than himself, to whom he had at one time been much attached--sent him -money; and he returned it to her under a blank cover. He had still -enough for those unhappy purposes which he had in hand. As to what -might happen afterwards, he was then mainly indifferent. - -The affair made much noise in the county, and was inquired into closely -by many of the county magistrates; by none more closely than by John -Newbold Gresham, with the energy and justice shown by Dr Thorne on the -occasion; and when the trial was over, he invited him to Greshamsbury. -The visit ended in the doctor establishing himself in the village. - -We must return for a moment to Mary Scatcherd. She was saved from the -necessity of encountering her brother's wrath, for that brother was -under arrest for murder before he could get at her. Her immediate lot, -however, was a cruel one. Deep as was her cause for anger against the -man who had so inhumanly used her, still it was natural that she should -turn to him with love rather than with aversion. To whom else could -she in such plight look for love? When, therefore, she heard that he -was slain, her heart sank within her; she turned her face to the wall, -and laid herself down to die; to die a double death, for herself and -the fatherless babe that was now quick within her. - -But, in fact, life had still much to offer, both to her and her child. -For her it was still destined that she should, in a distant land, be -the worthy wife of a good husband, and the happy mother of many -children. For that embryo one it was destined--but that may not be so -quickly told: to describe her destiny this volume has yet to be -written. - -Even in those bitterest days God tempered the wind to the shorn lamb. -Dr Thorne was by her bedside soon after the bloody tidings had reached -her, and did for her more than either her lover or her brother could -have done. When the baby was born, Scatcherd was still in prison, and -had still three months' more confinement to undergo. The story of her -great wrongs and cruel usage as much talked of, and men said that one -who had been so injured should be regarded as having in nowise sinned -at all. - -One man, at any rate, so thought. At twilight, one evening, Thorne was -surprised by a visit from a demure Barchester hardware dealer, whom he -did not remember ever to have addressed before. This was the former -lover of the poor Mary Scatcherd. He had a proposal to make and it was -this:--if Mary would consent to leave the country at once, to leave it -without notice from her brother, or talk or eclat on the matter, he -would sell all that he had, marry her, and emigrate. There was but one -condition; she must leave her baby behind her. The hardware-man could -find it in his heart to be generous, to be generous and true to his -love; but he could not be generous enough to father the seducer's -child. - -'I could never abide it, sir, if I took it,' said he; 'and she,--why in -course she would always love it the best.' - -In praising his generosity, who can mingle any censure for such -manifest prudence? He would still make her the wife of his bosom, -defiled in the eyes of the world as she had been; but she must be to -him the mother of his own children, not the mother of another's child. - -And now again our doctor had a hard task to win through. He saw at -once that it was his duty to use his utmost authority to induce the -poor girl to accept such an offer. She liked the man; and here was -opened to her a course which would have been most desirable, even -before her misfortune. But it is hard to persuade a mother to part -with her first babe; harder, perhaps, when the babe had been so -fathered and so born than when the world has shone brightly on its -earliest hours. She at first refused stoutly: she sent a thousand -loves, a thousand thanks, profusest acknowledgements for his generosity -to the man who showed her that he loved her so well; but Nature, she -said, would not let her leave her child. - -'And what will you do for her here, Mary?' said the doctor. Poor Mary -replied to him with a deluge of tears. - -'She is my niece,'said the doctor, taking up the tiny infant in his -huge hands; 'she is already the nearest thing, the only thing that I -have in the world. I am her uncle, Mary. If you will go with this man -I will be father to her and mother to her. Of what bread I eat, she -shall eat; of what cup I drink, she shall drink. See, Mary, here is -the Bible;' and he covered the book with his hand, 'Leave her to me, -and by this word she shall be my child.' - -The mother consented at last; left her baby with the doctor, married, -and went to America. All this was consummated before Roger Scatcherd -was liberated from jail. Some conditions the doctor made. The first -was, that Scatcherd should not know his sister's child was thus -disposed of. Dr Thorne, in undertaking to bring up the baby, did not -choose to encounter any girl's relations on the other side. Relations -she would undoubtedly have had none had she been left to live or die as -a workhouse bastard; but should the doctor succeed in life, should he -ultimately be able to make this girl the darling of his own house, and -then the darling of some other house, should she live and win the heart -of some man whom the doctor might delight to call his friend and -nephew; then relations might spring up whose ties would not -advantageous. - -No man plumed himself on good blood more than Dr Thorne; no man had -greater pride in his genealogical tree, and his hundred and thirty -clearly descendant from MacAdam; no man had a stronger theory as to the -advantage held by men who have grandfathers over those who have none, -or have none worth talking about. Let it not be thought that our -doctor was a perfect character. No, indeed; most far from perfect. He -had within him an inner, stubborn, self-admiring pride, which made him -believe himself to be better and higher than those around him, and this -from some unknown cause which he could hardly explain to himself. He -had a pride in being a poor man of a high family; he had a pride in -repudiating the very family of which he was proud; and he had a special -pride in keeping his pride silently to himself. His father had been a -Thorne, his mother a Thorold. There was no better blood to be had in -England. It was in the possession of such properties as these that he -condescended to rejoice; this man, with a man's heart, a man's courage, -and a man's humanity! Other doctors round the county had ditch-water -in their veins; he could boast of a pure ichor, to which that of the -great Omnium family was but a muddy puddle. It was thus that he loved -to excel his brother practitioners, he who might have indulged in the -pride of excelling them both in talent and in energy! We speak now of -his early days; but even in his maturer life, the man, though mellowed, -was the same. - -This was the man who now promised to take to his bosom as his own child -a poor bastard whose father was already dead, and whose mother's family -was such as the Scatcherds! It was necessary that the child's history -should be known to none. Except to the mother's brother it was an -object of interest to no one. The mother had for some short time been -talked of; but now that the nine-days' wonder was a wonder no longer. -She went off to her far-away home; her husband's generosity was duly -chronicled in the papers, and the babe was left untalked of and -unknown. - -It was easy to explain to Scatcherd that the child had not lived. There -was a parting interview between the brother and sister in the jail, -during which with real tears and unaffected sorrow, the mother thus -accounted for the offspring of her shame. Then she started, fortunate -in her coming fortunes; and the doctor took with him his charge to the -new country in which they were both to live. There he found for her a -fitting home till she should be old enough to sit at his table and live -in his bachelor house; and no one but old Mr Gresham knew who she was, -or whence she had come. - -Then Roger Scatcherd, having completed his six months' confinement, -came out of prison. - -Roger Scatcherd, though his hands were now red with blood, was to be -pitied. A short time before the days of Henry Thorne's death he had -married a young wife in his own class of life, and had made many -resolves that henceforward his conduct should be such as might become a -married man, and might not disgrace the respectable brother-in-law he -was about to have given him such was his condition when he first heard -of his sister's plight. As has been said, he filled himself with drink -and started off on the scent of blood. - -During his prison days his wife had to support herself as she might. -The decent articles of furniture which they had put together were sold; -she gave up their little house, and, bowed down by misery, she also was -brought near to death. When he was liberated he at once got work; but -those who have watched the lives of such people know how hard it is for -them to recover lost ground. She became a mother immediately after his -liberation, and when her child was born they were in direst want; for -Scatcherd was again drinking, and his resolves were blown to the wind. - -The doctor was then living at Greshamsbury. He had gone over there -before the day on which he undertook the charge of poor Mary's baby, -and soon found himself settled as the Greshamsbury doctor. This -occurred very soon after the birth of the young heir. His predecessor -in this career had 'bettered' himself, or endeavoured to do so, by -seeking the practice of some large town, and Lady Arabella, at a very -critical time, was absolutely left with no other advice than that of a -stranger, picked up, as she declared to Lady de Courcy, somewhere -between Barchester jail, or Barchester court-house, she did not know -which. - -Of course Lady Arabella could not suckle the young heir herself. Ladies -Arabella never can. They are gifted with the powers of being mothers, -but not nursing-mothers. Nature gives them bosoms for show, but not -for use. So Lady Arabella had a wet-nurse. At the end of six months -the new doctor found Master Frank was not doing quite so well as he -should do; and after a little trouble it was discovered that the very -excellent young woman who had been sent express from Courcy Castle to -Greshamsbury--a supply being kept up on the lord's demesne for the -family use--was fond of brandy. She was at once sent back to the -castle, of course; and, as Lady de Courcy was too much in dudgeon to -send another, Dr Thorne was allowed to procure one. He thought of the -misery of Roger Scatcherd's wife, though also of her health and -strength, and active habits; and thus Mrs Scatcherd became the -foster-mother to young Gresham. - -One other episode we must tell of past times. Previous to his father's -death, Dr Thorne was in love. Nor had he altogether sighed and pleaded -in vain; though it had not quite come to that, the young lady's -friends, or even the young lady herself, had actually accepted his -suit. At that time his name stood well in Barchester. His father was -a prebendary; his cousins and his best friends were the Thornes of -Ullathorne, and the lady, who shall be nameless, was not thought to be -injudicious in listening to the young doctor. But when Henry Thorne -went so far astray, when the old doctor died, when the young doctor -quarrelled with Ullathorne, when the brother was killed in a -disgraceful quarrel, and it turned out that the physician had nothing -but his profession and no settled locality in which to exercise it; -then, indeed, the young lady's friends thought that she was -injudicious, and the young lady herself had not spirit enough, or love -enough, to be disobedient. In those stormy days of the trial she told -Dr Thorne, that perhaps it would be wise that they should not see each -other any more. - -Dr Thorne, so counselled, at such a moment,--so informed then, when he -most required comfort from his love, at once swore loudly that he -agreed with her. He rushed forth with a bursting heart, and said to -himself that the world was bad, all bad. He saw the lady no more; and, -if I am rightly informed, never again made matrimonial overtures to any -one. - - - -CHAPTER III - -DR THORNE - -And thus Dr Thorne became settled for life in the little village of -Greshamsbury. As was then the wont with many country practitioners, -and as should be the wont with them all if they consulted their own -dignity a little less and the comforts of their customers somewhat -more, he added the business of a dispensing apothecary to that of a -physician. In doing so, he was of course much reviled. Many people -around him declared that he could not truly be a doctor, or, at any -rate, a doctor to be so called; and his brethren in the art living -round him, though they knew that his diplomas, degrees, and -certificates were all en regle, rather countenanced the report. There -was much about this new-comer which did not endear him to his own -profession. In the first place he was a new-comer, and, as such, was -of course to be regarded by other doctors as being de trop. -Greshamsbury was only fifteen miles from Barchester, where there was a -regular depot of medical skill, and but eight from Silverbridge, where -a properly established physician had been in residence for the last -forty years. Dr Thorne's predecessor at Greshamsbury had been a -humble-minded general practitioner, gifted with a due respect for the -physicians of the county; and he, though he had been allowed to physic -the servants, and sometimes the children of Greshamsbury, had never had -the presumption to put himself on a par with his betters. - -Then also, Dr Thorne, though a graduated physician, though entitled -beyond all dispute to call himself a doctor, according to all the laws -of the colleges, made it known to the East Barsetshire world, very soon -after he had seated himself at Greshamsbury, that his rate of pay was -to be seven-and-sixpence a visit within a circuit of five miles, with a -proportionally increased charge at proportionally increased distances. -Now there was something low, mean, unprofessional, and democratic in -this; so, at least, said the children of AEsculapius gathered together -in conclave at Barchester. In the first place, it showed that this -Thorne was always thinking of his money, like an apothecary, as he was; -whereas, it would have behoved him, as a physician, had he had the -feelings of a physician under his hat, to have regarded his own -pursuits in a purely philosophical spirit, and to have taken any gain -which might have accrued as an accidental adjunct to his station in -life. A physician should take his fee without letting his left hand -know what his right hand was doing; it should be taken without a -thought, without a look, without a move of the facial muscles; the true -physician should hardly be aware that the last friendly grasp of the -hand had been more precious by the touch of gold. Whereas, that fellow -Thorne would lug out half a crown from his breeches pocket and give it -in change for a ten shilling piece. And then it was clear that this -man had no appreciation of the dignity of a learned profession. He -might constantly be seen compounding medicines in the shop, at the left -hand of his front door; not making experiments philosophically in -materials medica for the benefit of coming ages--which, if he did, he -should have done in the seclusion of his study, far from profane -eyes--but positively putting together common powders for rural bowels, -or spreading vulgar ointments for agricultural ailments. - -A man of this sort was not fit for society for Dr Fillgrave of -Barchester. That must be admitted. And yet he had been found to be -fit society for the old squire of Greshamsbury, whose shoe-ribbons Dr -Fillgrave would not have objected to tie; so high did the old squire -stand in the county just previous to his death. But the spirit of the -Lady Arabella was known by the medical profession of Barsetshire, and -when that good man died it was felt that Thorne's short tenure of -Greshamsbury favour was already over. The Barsetshire regulars were, -however, doomed to disappointment. Our doctor had already contrived to -endear himself to the heir; and though there was not even much personal -love between him and the Lady Arabella, he kept his place at the great -house unmoved, not only in the nursery and in the bedrooms, but also at -the squire's dining-table. - -Now there was in this, it must be admitted, quite enough to make him -unpopular with his brethren; and this feeling was soon shown in a -marked and dignified manner. Dr Fillgrave, who had certainly the most -respectable professional connexion in the county, who had a reputation -to maintain, and who was accustomed to meet, on almost equal terms, the -great medical baronets from the metropolis at the houses of the -nobility--Dr Fillgrave declined to meet Dr Thorne in consultation. He -exceedingly regretted, he said, most exceedingly, the necessity he felt -of doing so: he had never before had to perform so painful a duty; but, -as a duty which he owed to his profession, he must perform it. With -every feeling of respect of Lady -,--a sick guest at Greshamsbury,--and -for Mr Gresham, he must decline to attend in conjunction with Dr -Thorne. If his services could be made available under any other -circumstances, he would go to Greshamsbury as fast as post-horses could -carry him. - -Then, indeed, there was war in Barsetshire. If there was on Dr -Thorne's cranium one bump more developed than another, it was that of -combativeness. Not that the doctor was a bully, or even pugnacious, in -the usual sense of the word; he had no disposition to provoke a fight, -no propense love of quarrelling; but there was that in him which would -allow him to yield to no attack. Neither in argument nor in contest -would he ever allow himself to be wrong; never at least to anyone but -himself; and on behalf of his special hobbies, he was ready to meet the -world at large. - -It will therefore be understood, that when such a gauntlet was thus -thrown in his very teeth by Dr Fillgrave, he was not slow to take it -up. He addressed a letter to the Barsetshire Conservative Standard, in -which he attacked Dr Fillgrave with some considerable acerbity. Dr -Fillgrave responded in four lines, saying that on mature consideration -he had made up his mind not to notice any remarks that might be made on -him by Dr Thorne in the public press. The Greshamsbury doctor then -wrote another letter, more witty and much more severe than the last; -and as this was copied into the Bristol, Exeter, and Gloucester papers, -Dr Fillgrave found it very difficult to maintain the magnanimity of his -reticence. It is sometimes becoming enough for a Mediterranean to wrap -himself in the dignified toga of silence, and proclaim himself -indifferent to public attacks; but it is a sort of dignity which it is -very difficult to maintain. As well might a man, when stung to madness -by wasps, endeavour to sit in his chair without moving a muscle, as -endure with patience and without reply the courtesies of a newspaper -opponent. Dr Thorne wrote a third letter which was too much for -medical flesh and blood to bear. Dr Fillgrave answered it, not, -indeed, in his own name, but in that of a brother doctor; and then the -war raged merrily. It is hardly too much to say that Dr Fillgrave -never knew another happy hour. Had he dreamed of what materials was -made that young compounder of doses at Greshamsbury he would have met -him in consultation, morning, noon, and night, without objection; but -having begun the war, he was constrained to go on with it: his brethren -would allow him no alternative. Thus he was continually being brought -up to the fight, as a prize-fighter may be seen to be, who is carried -up round after round, without any hope on his own part, and who, in -each round, drops to the ground before the very wind of his opponent's -blows. - -But Dr Fillgrave, though thus weak himself, was backed in practice and -in countenance by nearly all his brethren in the county. The guinea -fee, the principle of giving advice and of selling no medicine, the -great resolve to keep a distinct barrier between the physician and the -apothecary, and, above all, the hatred of the contamination of a bill, -were strong in the medical mind of Barsetshire. Dr Thorne had the -provincial medical world against him, and so he appealed to the -metropolis. The Lancet took the matter up in his favour, but the -Journal of Medical Science was against him; the Weekly Chirurgeon, -noted for its medical democracy, upheld him as a medical prophet, but -the Scalping Knife, a monthly periodical got up in dead opposition to -the Lancet, showed him no mercy. So the war went on, and our doctor, to -a certain extent, became a noted character. - -He had, moreover, other difficulties to encounter in his professional -career. It was something in his favour that he understood his -business; something that he was willing to labour at it with energy; -and resolved to labour at it conscientiously. He had also other gifts, -such as conversational brilliancy, and aptitude for true good -fellowship, firmness in friendship, and general honesty of disposition, -which stood him in stead as he advanced in life. But, at his first -starting, much that belonged to himself personally was against him. Let -him enter what house he would, he entered it with a conviction, often -expressed to himself, that he was equal as a man to the proprietor, -equal as a human being to the proprietress. To age he would allow -deference, and to special recognized talent--at least so he said; to -rank also, he would pay that respect which was its clear and recognized -prerogative; he would let a lord walk out of a room before him if he -did not happen to forget it; in speaking to a duke he would address him -as His Grace; and he would in no way assume a familiarity with bigger -men than himself, allowing to the bigger man the privilege of making -the first advances. But beyond this he would admit that no man should -walk the earth with his head higher than his own. - -He did not talk of these things much; he offended no rank by boasts of -his own equality; he did not absolutely tell the Earl de Courcy in -words, that the privilege of dining at Courcy Castle was to him no -greater than the privilege of dining at Courcy Parsonage; but there was -that in his manner that told it. The feeling in itself was perhaps -good, and was certainly much justified by the manner in which he bore -himself to those below him in rank; but there was folly in the -resolution to run counter to the world's recognized rules on such -matters; and much absurdity in his mode of doing so, seeing that at -heart he was a thorough Conservative. It is hardly too much to say -that he naturally hated a lord at first sight; but, nevertheless, he -would have expended his means, his blood, and spirit, in fighting for -the upper house of Parliament. - -Such a disposition, until it was thoroughly understood, did not tend to -ingratiate him with the wives of the country gentlemen among whom he -had to look for practice. And then, also, there was not much in his -individual manner to recommend him to the favour of ladies. He was -brusque, authoritative, given to contradiction, rough though never -dirty in his personal belongings, and inclined to indulge in a sort of -quiet raillery, which sometimes was not thoroughly understood. People -did not always know whether he was laughing at them or with them; and -some people were, perhaps, inclined to think that a doctor should not -laugh at all when called in to act doctorially. - -When he was known, indeed, when the core of the fruit had been reached, -when the huge proportion of that loving trusting heart had been -learned, and understood, and appreciated, when that honesty had been -recognized, that manly, almost womanly tenderness had been felt, then, -indeed, the doctor was acknowledged to be adequate in his profession. - -To trifling ailments he was too often brusque. Seeing that he accepted -money for the cure of such, he should, we may say, have cured them -without an offensive manner. So far he is without defence. But to -real suffering no one found him brusque; no patient lying painfully on -a bed of sickness ever thought him rough. - -Another misfortune was, that he was a bachelor. Ladies think, and I, -for one, think that ladies are quite right in so thinking, that doctors -should be married men. All the world feels that a man when married -acquires some of the attributes of the old woman--he becomes, to a -certain extent, a motherly sort of being; he acquires a conversance -with women's ways and women's wants, and loses the wilder and offensive -sparks of his virility. It must be easier to talk to such a one about -Matilda's stomach, and the growing pains in Fanny's legs, than to a -young bachelor. This impediment also stood much in Dr Thorne's way -during his first years at Greshamsbury. - -But his wants were not at first great; and though his ambition was -perhaps high, it was not of an impatient nature. The world was his -oyster; but, circumstanced as he was, he knew that it was not for him -to open it with his lancet all at once. He had bread to earn, which he -must earn wearily; he had a character to make, which must come slowly; -it satisfied his soul, that in addition to his immortal hopes, he had a -possible future in this world to which he could look forward with clear -eyes, and advance with his heart that would know no fainting. - -On his first arrival at Greshamsbury he had been put by the squire into -a house, which he still occupied when that squire's grandson came of -age. There were two decent, commodious, private houses in the -village--always excepting the rectory, which stood grandly in its own -grounds, and, therefore, was considered as ranking above the village -residences--of these two Dr Thorne had the smaller. They stood exactly -at the angle before described, on the outer side of it, and at right -angles to each other. They possessed good stables and ample gardens; -and it may be as well to specify, that Mr Umbleby, the agent and lawyer -to the estate, occupied the larger one. - -Here Dr Thorne lived for eleven or twelve years, all alone; and then -for ten or eleven more with his niece, Mary Thorne. Mary was thirteen -when she came to take up permanent abode as mistress of the -establishment--or, at any rate, to act as the only mistress which the -establishment possessed. This advent greatly changed the tenor of the -doctor's ways. He had been before pure bachelor; not a room in his -house had been comfortably furnished; he at first commenced in a -makeshift sort of way, because he had not at his command the means of -commencing otherwise; and he had gone on in the same fashion, because -the exact time had never come at which it was imperative in him to set -his house in order. He had had no fixed hour for his meals, no fixed -place for his books, no fixed wardrobe for his clothes. He had a few -bottles of good wine in his cellar, and occasionally asked a brother -bachelor to take a chop with him; but beyond this he had touched very -little on the cares of housekeeping. A slop-bowl full of strong tea, -together with bread, and butter, and eggs, was produced for him in the -morning, and he expected that at whatever hour he might arrive in the -evening, some food should be presented to him wherewith to satisfy the -cravings of nature; if, in addition to this, he had another slop-bowl -of tea in the evening, he got all that he ever required, or all, at -least, that he ever demanded. - -But when Mary came, or rather, when she was about to come, things were -altogether changed at the doctor's. People had hitherto wondered--and -especially Mrs Umbleby--how a gentleman like Dr Thorne could continue -to live in so slovenly a manner; and how people again wondered, and -again especially Mrs Umbleby, how the doctor could possibly think it -necessary to put such a lot of furniture into a house because a little -chit of a girl of twelve years was coming to live with him. - -Mrs Umbleby had great scope for her wonder. The doctor made a thorough -revolution in his household, and furnished his house from the ground to -the roof completely. He painted--for the first time since the -commencement of his tenancy--he papered, he carpeted, as though a Mrs -Thorne with a good fortune were coming home to-morrow; and all for a -girl of twelve years old. 'And now,' said Mrs Umbleby, to her friend -Miss Gushing, 'how did he find out what to buy?' as though the doctor -had been brought up like a wild beast, ignorant of the nature of tables -and chairs, and with no more developed ideas of drawing-room drapery -than an hippopotamus. - -To the utter amazement of Mrs Umbleby and Miss Gushing, the doctor did -it very well. He said nothing about it to any one--he never did say -much about such things--but he furnished his house well and discreetly; -and when Mary Thorne came home from her school at Bath, to which she -had been taken some six years previously, she found herself called upon -to be the presiding genius of a perfect paradise. - -It has been said that the doctor had managed to endear himself to the -new squire before the old squire's death, and that, therefore, the -change at Greshamsbury had had no professional ill effects upon him. -Such was the case at the time; but, nevertheless, all did not go -smoothly in the Greshamsbury medical department. There was six or -seven years' difference in age between Mr Gresham and the doctor, and -moreover, Mr Gresham was young for his age, and the doctor old; but, -nevertheless, there was a very close attachment between them early in -life. This was never thoroughly sundered, and, backed by this the -doctor did maintain himself for some years before the artillery of Lady -Arabella's artillery. But drops falling, if they fall constantly, will -bore through a stone. - -Dr Thorne's pretensions, mixed with his subversive professional -democratic tendencies, his seven-and-sixpenny visits, added to his utter -disregard of Lady Arabella's airs, were too much for her spirit. He -brought Frank through his first troubles, and that at first ingratiated -her; he was equally successful with the early dietary of Augusta and -Beatrice; but, as his success was obtained in direct opposition to the -Courcy Castle nursery principles, this hardly did much in his favour. -When the third daughter was born, he at once declared that she was a -very weakly flower, and sternly forbade the mother to go to London. The -mother, loving her babe, obeyed; but did not the less hate the doctor -for the order, which she firmly believed was given at the instance and -express dictation of Mr Gresham. Then another little girl came into the -world, and the doctor was more imperative than ever as to the nursery -rules and the excellence of country air. Quarrels were thus engendered, -and Lady Arabella was taught to believe that this doctor of her -husband's was after all no Solomon. In her husband's absence she sent -for Dr Fillgrave, giving very express intimation that he would not have -to wound either his eyes or dignity by encountering his enemy; and she -found Dr Fillgrave a great comfort to her. - -Then Dr Thorne gave Mr Gresham to understand that, under such -circumstances, he could not visit professionally at Greshamsbury any -longer. The poor squire saw there was no help for it, and though he -maintained his friendly connexion with his neighbour, the -seven-and-sixpenny visits were at an end. Dr Fillgrave from -Barchester, and the gentleman at Silverbridge, divided the -responsibility between them, and the nursery principles of Courcy -Castle were again in vogue at Greshamsbury. - -So things went on for years, and those years were years of sorrow. We -must not ascribe to our doctor's enemies the sufferings and sickness, -and deaths that occurred. The four frail little ones that died would -probably have been taken had Lady Arabella been more tolerant of Dr -Thorne. But the fact was, that they did die; and that the mother's -heart then got the better of the woman's pride, and Lady Arabella -humbled herself before Dr Thorne. She humbled herself, or would have -done so, had the doctor permitted her. But he, with his eyes full of -tears, stopped the utterance of her apology, took her two hands in his, -pressed them warmly, and assured her that his joy in returning would be -great, for the love that he bore to all that belonged to Greshamsbury. -And so the seven-and-sixpenny visits were recommenced; and the great -triumph of Dr Fillgrave came to an end. - -Great was the joy in the Greshamsbury nursery when the second change -took place. Among the doctor's attributes, not hitherto mentioned, was -an aptitude for the society of children. He delighted to talk to -children, and to play with them. He would carry them on his back, -three or four at a time, roll with them on the ground, race with them -in the garden, invent games for them, contrive amusements in -circumstances which seemed quite adverse to all manner of delight; and, -above all, his physic was not nearly so nasty as that which came from -Silverbridge. - -He had a great theory as to the happiness of children; and though he -was not disposed altogether to throw over the precepts of -Solomon--always bargaining that he should, under no circumstances, be -himself the executioner--he argued that the principal duty which a -parent owed to a child was to make him happy. Not only was the man to -be made happy--the future man, if that might be possible--but the -existing boy was to be treated with equal favour; and his happiness, so -said the doctor, was of much easier attainment. - -'Why struggle after future advantage at the expense of the present -pain, seeing that the results were so very doubtful?' - -Many an opponent of the doctor had thought to catch him on the hip when -so singular a doctrine was broached; but they were not always -successful. 'What!' said his sensible enemies, 'is Johnny not to be -taught to read because he does not like it?' 'Johnny must read by all -means,' would the doctor answer; 'but is it necessary that he should -not like it? If the preceptor have it in him, may not Johnny learn not -only to read, but to like to learn to read?' - -'But,' would say his enemies, 'children must be controlled.' - -'And so must men also,' would say the doctor. 'I must not steal your -peaches, nor make love to your wife, nor libel your character. Much as -I might wish through my natural depravity to indulge in such vices, I -am debarred from them without pain, and I may almost say without -unhappiness.' - -And so the argument went on, neither party convincing the other. But, -in the meantime, the children of the neighbourhood became very fond of -Dr Thorne. - -Dr Thorne and the squire were still fast friends, but circumstances had -occurred, spreading themselves now over a period of many years, which -almost made the poor squire uneasy in the doctor's company. Mr Gresham -owed a large sum of money, and he had, moreover, already sold a portion -of his property. Unfortunately it had been the pride of the Greshams -that their acres had descended from one another without an entail, so -that each possessor of Greshamsbury had had the full power to dispose -of the property as he pleased. Any doubt as to its going to the male -heir had never hitherto been felt. It had occasionally been encumbered -by charges for younger children; but these charges had been liquidated, -and the property had come down without any burden to the present -squire. Now a portion of this land had been sold, and it had been sold -to a certain degree through the agency of Dr Thorne. - -This made the squire an unhappy man. No man loved his family name and -honour, his old family blazon and standing more thoroughly than he did; -he was every whit a Gresham at heart; but his spirit had been weaker -than that of his forefathers; and, in his days, for the first time, the -Greshams were going to the wall! Ten years before the beginning of our -story it had been necessary to raise a large sum of money to meet and -pay off pressing liabilities, and it was found that this could be done -with more material advantage by selling a portion of the property than -in any other way. A portion of it, about a third of the whole in -value, was accordingly sold. - -Boxall Hill lay half between Greshamsbury and Barchester, and was known -as having the best partridge shooting in the county; as having on it -also a celebrated fox cover, Boxall Gorse, held in very high repute by -Barsetshire sportsmen. There was no residence on the immediate estate, -and it was altogether divided from the remained of the Greshamsbury -property. This, with many inward and outward groans, Mr Gresham -permitted to be sold. - -It was sold, and sold well, by private contract to a native of -Barchester, who, having risen from the world's ranks, had made for -himself great wealth. Somewhat of this man's character must hereafter -be told; it will suffice to say that he relied for advice in money -matters upon Dr Thorne, and that at Dr Thorne's suggestion he had -purchased Boxall Hill, partridge-shooting and gorse cover all -included. He had not only bought Boxall Hill, but had subsequently -lent the squire large sums of money on mortgage, in all which -transactions the doctor had taken part. It had therefore come to pass -that Mr Gresham was not infrequently called upon to discuss his money -affairs with Dr Thorne, and occasionally to submit to lectures and -advice which might perhaps as well have been omitted. - -So much for Dr Thorne. A few words must still be said about Miss Mary -Thorne before we rush into our story; the crust will then have been -broken, and the pie will be open to the guests. Little Miss Mary was -kept at a farm-house till she was six; she was then sent to school at -Bath, and transplanted to the doctor's newly furnished house, a little -more than six years after that. It must not be supposed that he had -lost sight of his charge during her earlier years. He was much too -well aware of the nature of the promise which he had made to the -departing mother to do that. He had constantly visited his little -niece, and long before the first twelve years of her life were over had -lost consciousness of his promise, and of his duty to the mother, in -the stronger ties of downright personal love for the only creature that -belonged to him. - -When Mary came home the doctor was like a child in his glee. He -prepared surprises for her with as much forethought and trouble as -though he were contriving mines to blow up an enemy. He took her first -into the shop, and then into the kitchen, thence to the dining-rooms, -after that to his and her bedrooms, and so on till he came to the full -glory of the new drawing-room, enhancing the pleasure by little jokes, -and telling her that he should never dare to come into the last -paradise without her permission, and not then till he had taken off his -boots. Child as she was, she understood the joke, and carried it on -like a little queen; and so they soon became the firmest of friends. - -But though Mary was queen, it was still necessary that she should be -educated. Those were the earlier days in which Lady Arabella had -humbled herself, and to show her humility she invited Mary to share the -music-lessons of Augusta and Beatrice at the great house. A -music-master from Barchester came over three times a week, and remained -for three hours, and if the doctor chose to send his girl over, she -could pick up what was going on without doing any harm. So said the -Lady Arabella. The doctor with many thanks and with no hesitation, -accepted the offer, merely adding, that he had perhaps better settle -separately with Signor Cantabili, the music-master. He was very much -obliged to Lady Arabella for giving his little girl permission to join -her lessons to those of the Miss Greshams. - -It need hardly be said that the Lady Arabella was on fire at once. -Settle with Signor Cantabili! No, indeed; she would do that; there -must be no expense whatever incurred in such an arrangement on Miss -Thorne's account! But here, as in most things, the doctor carried his -point. It being the time of the lady's humility, she could not make as -good a fight as she would otherwise have done; and thus she found, to -her great disgust, that Mary Thorne was learning music in her -schoolroom on equal terms, as regarded payment, with her own -daughters. The arrangement having been made could not be broken, -especially as the young lady in nowise made herself disagreeable; and -more especially as the Miss Greshams themselves were very fond of her. - -And so Mary Thorne learnt music at Greshamsbury, and with her music she -learnt other things also; how to behave herself among girls of her own -age; how to speak and talk as other young ladies do; how to dress -herself, and how to move and walk. All which, she being quick to learn -without trouble at the great house. Something also she learnt of -French, seeing that the Greshamsbury French governess was always in the -room. - -And then some few years later, there came a rector, and a rector's -sister; and with the latter Mary studied German and French also. From -the doctor himself she learnt much; the choice, namely, of English -books for her own reading, and habits of thought somewhat akin to his -own, though modified by the feminine softness of her individual mind. - -And so Mary Thorne grew up and was educated. Of her personal -appearance it certainly is my business as an author to say something. -She is my heroine, and, as such, must necessarily be very beautiful; -but, in truth, her mind and inner qualities are more clearly distinct -to my brain than her outward form and features. I know that she was -far from being tall, and far from being showy; that her feet and hands -were small and delicate; that her eyes were bright when looked at, but -not brilliant so as to make their brilliancy palpably visible to all -around her; her hair was dark brown, and worn very plainly brushed from -her forehead; her lips were thin, and her mouth, perhaps, in general -inexpressive, but when she was eager in conversation it would show -itself to be animated with curves of wondrous energy; and, quiet as she -was in manner, sober and demure as was her usual settled appearance, -she could talk, when the fit came on her, with an energy which in truth -surprised those who did not know her; aye, and sometimes those who -did. Energy! nay, it was occasionally a concentration of passion, -which left her for the moment perfectly unconscious of all other cares -but solicitude for that subject which she might then be advocating. - -All her friends, including the doctor, had at times been made unhappy -by this vehemence of character; but yet it was to that very vehemence -that she owed it that all her friends loved her. It had once nearly -banished her in early years from the Greshamsbury schoolroom; and yet -it ended in making her claim to remain there so strong, that Lady -Arabella could no longer oppose it, even when she had the wish to do -so. - -A new French governess had lately come to Greshamsbury, and was, or was -to be, a great pet with Lady Arabella, having all the great gifts with -which a governess can be endowed, and being also a protege from the -castle. The castle, in Greshamsbury parlance, always meant that of -Courcy. Soon after this a valued little locket belonging to Augusta -Gresham was missing. The French governess had objected to its being -worn in the schoolroom, and it had been sent up to the bedroom by a -young servant-girl, the daughter of a small farmer on the estate. The -locket was missing, and after a while, a considerable noise in the -matter having been made, was found, by the diligence of the governess, -somewhere among the belongings of the English servant. Great was the -anger of Lady Arabella, loud were the protestations of the girl, mute -the woe of her father, piteous the tears of her mother, inexorable the -judgment of the Greshamsbury world. But something occurred, it matters -now not what, to separate Mary Thorne in opinion from that world at -large. Out she then spoke, and to her face accused the governess of -the robbery. For two days Mary was in disgrace almost as deep as that -of the farmer's daughter. But she was neither quiet or dumb in her -disgrace. When Lady Arabella would not hear her, she went to Mr -Gresham. She forced her uncle to move in the matter. She gained over -to her side, one by one, the potentates of the parish, and ended by -bringing Mam'selle Larron down on her knees with a confession of the -facts. From that time Mary Thorne was dear to the tenantry of -Greshamsbury; and specially dear to one small household, where a -rough-spoken father of a family was often heard to declare, that for -Miss Mary Thorne he'd face man or magistrate, duke or devil. - -And so Mary Thorne grew up under the doctor's eye, and at the beginning -of our tale she was one of the guests assembled at Greshamsbury on the -coming of age of the heir, she herself having then arrived at the same -period of her life. - - - -CHAPTER IV - -LESSONS FROM COURCY CASTLE - -It was the first of July, young Frank Gresham's birthday, and the -London season was not yet over; nevertheless, Lady de Courcy had -managed to get down into the country to grace the coming of age of the -heir, bringing with her all the Ladies Amelia, Rosina, Margaretta, and -Alexandrina, together with such of the Honourable Johns and Georges as -could be collected for the occasion. - -The Lady Arabella had contrived this year to spend ten weeks in town, -which, by a little stretching, she made to pass for the season; and had -managed, moreover, at last to refurnish, not ingloriously, the Portman -Square drawing-room. She had gone up to London under the pretext, -imperatively urged, of Augusta's teeth--young ladies' teeth are not -infrequently of value in this way;--and having received authority for a -new carpet, which was really much wanted, had made such dexterous use -of that sanction as to run up an upholsterer's bill of six or seven -hundred pounds. She had of course had her carriage and horses; the -girls of course had gone out; it had been positively necessary to have -a few friends in Portman Square; and, altogether, the ten weeks had not -been unpleasant, and not inexpensive. - -For a few confidential minutes before dinner, Lady de Courcy and her -sister-in-law sate together in the latter's dressing-room, discussing -the unreasonableness of the squire, who had expressed himself with more -than ordinary bitterness as to the folly--he had probably used some -stronger word--of these London proceedings. - -'Heavens!,' said the countess, with much eager animation; 'what can the -man expect? What does he wish you to do?' - -'He would like to sell the house in London, and bury us all here for -ever. Mind, I was there only for ten weeks.' - -'Barely time for the girls to get their teeth properly looked at! But -Arabella, what does he say?' Lady de Courcy was very anxious to learn -the exact truth of the matter, and ascertain, if she could, whether Mr -Gresham was really as poor as he pretended to be. - -'Why, he said yesterday that he would have no more going to town at -all; that he was barely able to pay the claims made on him, and keep up -the house here, and that he would not--' - -'Would not what?' asked the countess. - -'Why, he said that he would not utterly ruin poor Frank.' - -'Ruin Frank!' - -'That's what he said.' - -'But, surely, Arabella, it is not so bad as that? What possible reason -can there be for him to be in debt?' - -'He is always talking of those elections.' - -'But, my dear, Boxall Hill paid all that off. Of course Frank will not -have such an income as there was when you married into the family; we -all know that. And whom will he have to thank but his father? But -Boxall Hill paid all those debts, and why should there be any -difficulty now?' - -'It was those nasty dogs, Rosina,' said the Lady Arabella. - -'Well, I for one never approved of the hounds coming to Greshamsbury. -When a man has once involved his property he should not incur any -expenses that are not absolutely necessary. That is a golden rule -which Mr Gresham ought to have remembered. Indeed, I put it to him -nearly in those very words; but Mr Gresham never did, and never will -receive with common civility anything that comes from me.' - -'I know, Rosina, he never did; and yet where would he have been but for -the De Courcys?' So exclaimed, in her gratitude, the Lady Arabella; to -speak the truth, however, but for the De Courcys, Mr Gresham might have -been at this moment on the top of Boxall Hill, monarch of all he -surveyed. - -'As I was saying,' continued the countess, 'I never approved of the -hounds coming to Greshamsbury; but yet, my dear, the hounds can't have -eaten up everything. A man with ten thousand a year ought to be able -to keep hounds; particularly as he had a subscription.' - -'He says the subscription was little or nothing.' - -'That's nonsense, my dear. Now, Arabella, what does he do with his -money? That's the question. Does he gamble?' - -'Well,' said Lady Arabella, very slowly, 'I don't think he does.' If -the squire did gamble he must have done it very slyly, for he rarely -went away from Greshamsbury, and certainly very few men looking like -gamblers were in the habit of coming thither as guests. 'I don't think -he does gamble.' Lady Arabella put her emphasis on the word gamble, as -though her husband, if he might perhaps be charitably acquitted of that -vice, was certainly guilty of every other known in the civilized world. - -'I know he used,' said Lady de Courcy, looking very wise, and rather -suspicious. She certainly had sufficient domestic reasons for -disliking the propensity; 'I know he used; and when a man begins, he is -hardly ever cured.' - -'Well, if he does, I don't know it,' said the Lady Arabella. - -'The money, my dear, must go somewhere. What excuse does he give when -you tell him you want this and that--all the common necessaries of -life, that you have always been used to?' - -'He gives no excuse; sometimes he says the family is so large.' - -'Nonsense! Girls cost nothing; there's only Frank, and he can't have -cost anything yet. Can he be saving money to buy back Boxall Hill?' - -'Oh no!' said the Lady Arabella, quickly. 'He is not saving anything; -he never did, and never will save, though he is so stingy to me. He is -hard pushed for money, I know that.' - -'Then where has it gone?' said the Countess de Courcy, with a look of -stern decision. - -'Heaven only knows! Now, Augusta is to be married. I must of course -have a few hundred pounds. You should have heard how he groaned when I -asked him for it. Heaven only knows where the money goes!' And the -injured wife wiped a piteous tear from her eye with her fine dress -cambric handkerchief. 'I have all the sufferings and privations of a -poor man's wife, but I have none of the consolations. He has no -confidence in me; he never tells me anything; he never talks to me -about his affairs. If he talks to any one it is to that horrid -doctor.' - -'What, Dr Thorne?' Now the Countess de Courcy hated Dr Thorne with a -holy hatred. - -'Yes; Dr Thorne. I believe that he knows everything; and advises -everything, too. Whatever difficulties poor Gresham may have, I do -believe Dr Thorne has brought them about. I do believe it, Rosina.' - -'Well, that is surprising. Mr Gresham with all his faults is a -gentleman; and how he can talk about his affairs with a low apothecary -like that I, for one, cannot imagine. Lord de Courcy has not always -been to me all that he should have been; far from it.' And Lady de -Courcy thought over in her mind injuries of a much graver description -than any that her sister-in-law had ever suffered; 'but I have never -known anything like that at Courcy Castle. Surely Umbleby knows all -about it, doesn't he?' - -'Not half so much as the doctor,' said Lady Arabella. - -The countess shook her head slowly; the idea of Mr Gresham, a country -gentleman of good estate like him, making a confidant of a country -doctor was too great a shock for her nerves; and for a while she was -constrained to sit silent before she could recover herself. - -'One thing at any rate is certain, Arabella,' said the countess, as -soon as she found herself again sufficiently composed to offer counsel -in a properly dictatorial manner. 'One thing at any rate is certain; -if Mr Gresham be involved so deeply as you say, Frank has but only one -duty before him. He must marry money. The heir of fourteen thousand a -year may indulge himself in looking for blood, as Mr Gresham did, my -dear'--it must be understood that there was very little compliment in -this, as the Lady Arabella had always conceived herself to be a -beauty--'or for beauty, as some men do,' continued the countess, -thinking of the choice that the present Earl de Courcy had made; 'but -Frank must marry money. I hope he will understand this early; do make -him understand this before he makes a fool of himself: when a man -thoroughly understands this, when he knows what his circumstances -require, why, the matter becomes easy to him. I hope that Frank -understands that he has no alternative. In his position he must marry -money.' - -But, alas! alas! Frank Gresham had already made a fool of himself. - -'Well, my boy, I wish you joy with all my heart,' said the Honourable -John, slapping his cousin on the back, as he walked round to the -stable-yard with him before dinner, to inspect a setter puppy of -peculiarly fine breed which had been sent to Frank as a birthday -present. 'I wish I were an elder son; but we can't all have that -luck.' - -'Who wouldn't sooner be the younger son of an earl than the eldest son -of a plain squire?' said Frank, wishing to say something civil in -return for his cousin's civility. - -'I wouldn't for one,' said the Honourable John. 'What chance have I? -There's Porlock as strong as a horse; and then George comes next. And -the governor's good for these twenty years.' And the young man sighed -as he reflected what small hope there was that all those who were -nearest and dearest to him should die out of his way, and leave him to -the sweet enjoyment of an earl's coronet and fortune. 'Now, you're -sure of your game some day; and as you've no brothers, I suppose the -squire'll let you do pretty well what you like. Besides, he's not so -strong as my governor, though he's younger.' - -Frank had never looked at his fortune in this light before, and was so -slow and green that he was not much delighted at the prospect now that -it was offered to him. He had always, however, been taught to look to -his cousins, the De Courcys, as men with whom it would be very -expedient that he should be intimate; he therefore showed no offence, -but changed the conversation. - -'Shall you hunt with the Barsetshire this season, John? I hope you -will; I shall.' - -'Well, I don't know. It's very slow. It's all tillage here, or else -woodland. I rather fancy I shall go to Leicestershire when the -partridge-shooting is over. What sort of a lot do you mean to come out -with, Frank?' - -Frank became a little red as he answered, 'Oh, I shall have two,' he -said; 'that is, the mare I have had these two years, and the horse my -father gave me this morning.' - -'What! only those two? and the mare is nothing more than a pony.' - -'She is fifteen hands,' said Frank, offended. - -'Well, Frank, I certainly would not stand that,' said the Honourable -John. 'What, go out before the county with one untrained horse and a -pony; and you the heir to Greshamsbury!' - -'I'll have him trained before November,' said Frank, 'that nothing in -Barsetshire will stop him. Peter says'--Peter was the Greshamsbury -stud-groom--'that he tucks up his legs beautifully.' - -'But who the deuce would think of going to work with one horse; or two -either, if you insist on calling the old pony a huntress? I'll put you -up to a trick, my lad: if you stand that you'll stand anything; and if -you don't mean to go in leading-strings all your life, now is the time -to show it. There's young Baker--Harry Baker, you know--he came of age -last year, and he has as pretty a string of nags as any one would wish -to set eyes on; four hunters and a hack. Now, if old Baker has four -thousand a year it's every shilling he has got.' - -This was true, and Frank Gresham, who in the morning had been made so -happy by his father's present of a horse, began to feel that hardly -enough had been done for him. It was true that Mr Baker had only four -thousand a year; but it was also true that he had no other child than -Harry Baker; that he had no great establishment to keep up; that he -owed a shilling to no one; and, also, that he was a great fool in -encouraging a mere boy to ape all the caprices of a man of wealth. -Nevertheless, for a moment, Frank Gresham did feel that, considering -his position, he was being treated rather unworthily. - -'Take the matter in your own hands, Frank,' said the Honourable John, -seeing the impression that he had made. 'Of course the governor knows -very well that you won't put up with such a stable as that. Lord bless -you! I have heard that when he married my aunt, and that was when he -was about your age, he had the best stud in the whole county; and then -he was in Parliament before he was three-and-twenty.' - -'His father, you know, died when he was very young,' said Frank. - -'Yes; I know he had a stroke of luck that doesn't fall to everyone; -but--' - -Young Frank's face grew dark now instead of red. When his cousin -submitted to him the necessity of having more than two horses for his -own use he could listen to him; but when the same monitor talked of the -chance of a father's death as a stroke of luck, Frank was too much -disgusted to be able pass it over with indifference. What! was he -thus to think of his father, whose face was always lighted up with -pleasure when his boy came near to him, and so rarely bright at any -other time? Frank had watched his father closely enough to be aware of -this; he knew how his father delighted in him; he had had cause to -guess that his father had many troubles, and that he strove hard to -banish the memory of them when his son was with him. He loved his -father truly, purely, and thoroughly, liked to be with him, and would -be proud to be his confidant. Could he listen quietly while his cousin -spoke of the chance of his father's death as a stroke of luck? - -'I shouldn't think it a stroke of luck, John. I should think it the -greatest misfortune in the world.' - -It is so difficult for a young man to enumerate sententiously a -principle of morality, or even an expression of ordinary good feeling, -without giving himself something of a ridiculous air, without assuming -something of a mock grandeur! - -'Oh, of course, my dear fellow,' said the Honourable John, laughing; -'that's a matter of course. We all understand that without saying it. -Porlock, of course, would feel exactly the same about the governor; but -if the governor were to walk, I think Porlock would console himself -with the thirty thousand a year.' - -'I don't know what Porlock would do; he's always quarrelling with my -uncle, I know. I only spoke of myself; I never quarrelled with my -father, and I hope I never shall.' - -'All right, my lad of wax, all right. I dare say you won't be tried; -but it you are, you'll find before six months are over, that it's a -very nice thing to master of Greshamsbury.' - -'I'm sure I shouldn't find anything of the kind.' - -'Very well, so be it. You wouldn't do as young Hatherly did, at -Hatherly Court, in Gloucestershire, when his father kicked the bucket. -You know Hatherly, don't you?' - -'No; I never saw him.' - -'He's Sir Frederick now, and has, or had, one of the finest fortunes in -England, for a commoner; the most of it is gone now. Well, when he -heard of his governor's death, he was in Paris, but he went off to -Hatherly as fast as special train and post-horses would carry him, and -got there just in time for the funeral. As he came back to Hatherly -Court from the church, they were putting up the hatchment over the -door, and Master Fred saw that the undertakers had put at the bottom -"Resurgam". You know what that means?' - -'Oh, yes,' said Frank. - -'"I'll come back again."' said the Honourable John, construing the -Latin for the benefit of his cousin. '"NO," said Fred Hatherly, -looking up at the hatchment; "I'm blessed if you do, old gentleman. -That would be too much of a joke; I'll take care of that." So he got -up at night, and he got some fellows with him, and they climbed up and -painted out "Resurgam", and they painted into its place, "Requiescat in -pace"; which means, you know, "you'd a great deal better stay where you -are". Now I call that good. Fred Hatherly did that as sure as--as sure -as--as sure as anything.' - -Frank could not help laughing at the story, especially at his cousin's -mode of translating the undertaker's mottoes; and then they sauntered -back from the stables into the house to dress for dinner. - -Dr Thorne had come to the house somewhat before dinner-time, at Mr -Gresham's request, and was now sitting with the squire in his own -book-room--so called--while Mary was talking to some of the girls -upstairs. - -'I must have ten or twelve thousand pounds; ten at the very least,' -said the squire, who was sitting in his usual arm-chair, close to his -littered table, with his head supported on his hand, looking very -unlike the father of an heir of a noble property, who had that day come -of age. - -It was the first of July, and of course there was no fire in the grate; -but, nevertheless, the doctor was standing with his back to the -fireplace, with his coat-tails over his arms, as though he were -engaged, now in summer as he so often was in winter, in talking, and -roasting his hinder person at the same time. - -'Twelve thousand pounds! It's a very large sum of money.' - -'I said ten,' said the squire. - -'Ten thousand pounds is a very large sum of money. There is no doubt -he'll let you have it. Scatcherd will let you have it; but I know -he'll expect to have the title deeds.' - -'What! for ten thousand pounds?' said the squire. 'There is not a -registered debt against the property but his own and Armstrong's.' - -'But his own is very large already.' - -'Armstrong's is nothing; about four-and-twenty thousand pounds.' - -'Yes; but he comes first, Mr Gresham.' - -'Well, what of that? To hear you talk, one would think that there was -nothing left of Greshamsbury. What's four-and-twenty thousand -pounds? Does Scatcherd know what rent-roll is?' - -'Oh, yes, he knows it well enough: I wish he did not.' - -'What he means is, that he must have ample security to cover what he -has already advanced before he goes on. I wish to goodness you had no -further need to borrow. I did think that things were settled last -year.' - -'Oh if there's any difficulty, Umbleby will get it for me.' - -'Yes; and what will you have to pay for it?' - -'I'd sooner pay double that be talked to in this way,' said the squire, -angrily, and, as he spoke, he got up hurriedly from his chair, thrust -his hands into his trousers-pockets, walked quickly to the window, and -immediately walking back again, threw himself once more into his chair. - -'There are some things a man cannot bear, doctor,' said he, beating the -devil's tattoo on the floor with one of his feet, 'though God knows I -ought to be patient now, for I am made to bear a good many things. You -had better tell Scatcherd that I am obliged to him for his offer, but -that I will not trouble him.' - -The doctor during this little outburst had stood quite silent with his -back to the fireplace and his coat-tails hanging over his arms; but -though his voice said nothing, his face said much. He was very -unhappy; he was greatly grieved to find that the squire was so soon -again in want of money, and greatly grieved also to find that this want -had made him so bitter and unjust. Mr Gresham had attacked him; but as -he was determined not to quarrel with Mr Gresham, he refrained from -answering. - -The squire also remained silent for a few minutes; but he was not -endowed with the gift of silence, and was soon, as it were, compelled -to speak agaain. - -'Poor Frank!' said he. 'I could yet be easy about everything if it -were not for the injury I have done him. Poor Frank!' - -The doctor advanced a few paces from off the rug, and taking his hand -out of his pocket, he laid it gently on the squire's shoulder. 'Frank -will do very well yet,' said the he. 'It is not absolutely necessary -that a man should have fourteen thousand pounds a year to be happy.' - -'My father left me the property entire, and I should leave it entire to -my son;--but you don't understand this.' - -The doctor did understand the feeling fully. The fact, on the other -hand, was that, long as he had known him, the squire did not understand -the doctor. - -'I would you could, Mr Gresham,' said the doctor, 'so that your mind -might be happier; but that cannot be, and, therefore, I say again, that -Frank will do very well yet, although he will not inherit fourteen -thousand pounds a year; and I would have you say the same thing to -yourself.' - -'Ah! you don't understand it,' persisted the squire. 'You don't know -how a man feels when he--Ah, well! it's no use my troubling you with -what cannot be mended. I wonder whether Umbleby is about the place -anywhere?' - -The doctor was again standing with his back against the chimney-piece, -and with his hands in his pockets. - -'You did not see Umbleby as you came in?' again asked the squire. - -'No, I did not; and if you will take my advice you will not see him -now; at any rate with reference to this money.' - -'I tell you I must get it from someone; you say Scatcherd won't let me -have it.' - -'No, Mr Gresham; I did not say that.' - -'Well, you said what was as bad. Augusta is to be married in -September, and the money must be had. I have agreed to give Moffat six -thousand pounds, and he is to have the money down in hard cash.' - -'Six thousand pounds,' said the doctor. 'Well, I suppose that is not -more than your daughter should have. But then, five times six are -thirty; thirty thousand pounds will be a large sum to make up.' - -The father thought to himself that his younger girls were but children, -and that the trouble of arranging their marriage portions might well be -postponed a while. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. - -'That Moffat is a gripping, hungry fellow,'said the squire. 'I suppose -Augusta likes him; and, as regards money, it is a good match.' - -'If Miss Gresham loves him, that is everything. I am not in love with -him myself; but then, I am not a young lady.' - -'The De Courcys are very fond of him. Lady de Courcy says that he is a -perfect gentleman, and thought very much of in London.' - -'Oh! if Lady de Courcy says that, of course, it's all right,' said the -doctor, with a quiet sarcasm, that was altogether thrown away on the -squire. - -The squire did not like any of the De Courcys; especially, he did not -like Lady de Courcy; but still he was accessible to a certain amount of -gratification in the near connexion which he had with the earl and -countess; and when he wanted to support his family greatness, would -sometimes weakly fall back upon the grandeur of Courcy Castle. It was -only when talking to his wife that he invariably snubbed the -pretensions of his noble relatives. - -The two men after this remained silent for a while; and then the -doctor, renewing the subject for which he had been summoned into the -book-room, remarked that as Scatcherd was now in the country--he did -not say, was now at Boxall Hill, as he did not wish to wound the -squire's ears--perhaps he had better go and see him, and ascertain in -what way this affair of the money might be arranged. There was no -doubt, he said, that Scatcherd would supply the sum required at a lower -rate of interest than that which it could be procured through Umbleby's -means. - -'Very well,' said the squire. 'I'll leave it in your hands, then. I -think ten thousand pounds will do. And now I'll dress for dinner.' And -then the doctor left him. - -Perhaps the reader will suppose after this that the doctor had some -pecuniary interest of his own in arranging the squire's loans; or, at -any rate, he will think that the squire must have so thought. Not in -the least; neither had he any such interest, nor did the squire think -that he had any. What Dr Thorne did in this matter the squire well -knew was done for love. But the squire of Greshamsbury was a great man -at Greshamsbury; and it behoved him to maintain the greatness of his -squirehood when discussing his affairs with the village doctor. So -much he had at any rate learnt from his contact with the De Courcys. - -And the doctor--proud, arrogant, contradictory, headstrong as he -was--why did he bear to be thus snubbed? Because he knew that the -squire of Greshamsbury, when struggling with debt and poverty, required -an indulgence for his weakness. Had Mr Gresham been in easy -circumstances, the doctor would by no means have stood so placidly with -his hands in his pockets, and have had Mr Umbleby thus thrown in his -teeth. The doctor loved the squire, loved him as his own oldest -friend; but he loved him ten times better as being in adversity than he -could ever done had things gone well at Greshamsbury in his time. - -While this was going on downstairs, Mary was sitting upstairs with -Beatrice Gresham in the schoolroom. The old schoolroom, so called, was -now a sitting-room, devoted to the use of the grown-up ladies of the -family, whereas one of the old nurseries was now the modern -schoolroom. Mary well knew her way to the sanctum, and, without asking -any questions, walked up to it when her uncle went to the squire. On -entering the room she found that Augusta and the Lady Alexandrina were -also there, and she hesitated for a moment at the door. - -'Come in, Mary,' said Beatrice, 'you know my cousin Alexandrina.' Mary -came in, and having shaken hands with her two friends, was bowing to -the lady, when the lady condescended, put out her noble hand, and -touched Miss Thorne's fingers. - -Beatrice was Mary's friend, and many heart-burnings and much mental -solicitude did that young lady give to her mother by indulging in such -a friendship. But Beatrice, with some faults, was true at heart, and -she persisted in loving Mary Thorne in spite of the hints which her -mother so frequently gave as to the impropriety of such an affection. - -Nor had Augusta any objection to the society of Miss Thorne. Augusta -was a strong-minded girl, with much of the De Courcy arrogance, but -quite as well inclined to show it in opposition to her mother as in any -other form. To her alone in the house did Lady Arabella show much -deference. She was now going to make a suitable match with a man of -large fortune, who had been procured for her as an eligible parti by -her aunt, the countess. She did not pretend, had never pretended, that -she loved Mr Moffat, but she knew, she said, that in the present state -of her father's affairs such a match was expedient. Mr Moffat was a -young man of very large fortune, in Parliament, and inclined to -business, and in every way recommendable. He was not a man of birth, -to be sure; that was to be lamented;--in confessing that Mr Moffat was -not a man of birth, Augusta did not go so far as to admit that he was -the son of a tailor; such, however, was the rigid truth in this -matter--he was not a man of birth, that was to be lamented; but in the -present state of affairs at Greshamsbury, she understood well that it -was her duty to postpone her own feelings in some respect. Mr Moffat -would bring fortune; she would bring blood and connexion. And as she -so said, her bosom glowed with strong pride to think that she would be -able to contribute so much more towards the proposed future partnership -than her husband would do. - -'Twas thus that Miss Gresham spoke of her match to her dear friends, her -cousins the De Courcys for instance, to Miss Oriel, her sister -Beatrice, and even to Mary Thorne. She had no enthusiasm, she -admitted, but she thought she had good judgment. She thought she had -shown good judgment in accepting Mr Moffat's offer, though she did not -pretend to any romance of affection. And, having so said, she went to -work with considerable mental satisfaction, choosing furniture, -carriages, and clothes, not extravagantly as her mother would have -done, not in deference to sterner dictates of the latest fashion as her -aunt would have done, with none of the girlish glee in new purchases -which Beatrice would have felt, but with sound judgment. She bought -things that were rich, for her husband was to be rich, and she meant to -avail herself of his wealth; she bought things that were fashionable, -for she meant to live in the fashionable world; but she bought what was -good, and strong, and lasting, and worth its money. - -Augusta Gresham had perceived early in life that she could not obtain -success either as an heiress, or as a beauty, nor could she shine as a -wit; she therefore fell back on such qualities as she had, and -determined to win the world as a strong-minded, useful woman. That -which she had of her own was blood; having that, she would in all ways -do what in her lay to enhance its value. Had she not possessed it, it -would to her mind have been the vainest of pretences. - -When Mary came in, the wedding preparations were being discussed. The -number and names of the bridesmaids were being settled, the dresses -were on the tapis, the invitations to be given were talked over. -Sensible as Augusta was, she was not above such feminine cares; she -was, indeed, rather anxious that the wedding should go off well. She -was a little ashamed of her tailor's son, and therefore anxious that -things should be as brilliant as possible. - -The bridesmaid's names had just been written on a card as Mary entered -the room. There were the Ladies Amelia, Rosina, Margaretta, and -Alexandrina of course at the head of it; then came Beatrice and the -twins; then Miss Oriel, who, though only a parson's sister, was a -person of note, birth and fortune. After this there had been here a -great discussion whether or not there should be any more. If there -were to be one more there must be two. Now Miss Moffat had expressed a -direct wish, and Augusta, though she would much rather have done -without her, hardly knew how to refuse. Alexandrina--we hope we may -be allowed to drop the 'lady' for the sake of brevity, for the present -scene only--was dead against such an unreasonable request. 'We none of -us know her, you know; and it would not be comfortable.' Beatrice -strongly advocated the future sister-in-law's acceptance into the bevy; -she had her own reasons; she was pained that Mary Thorne should not be -among the number, and if Miss Moffat were accepted, perhaps Mary might -be brought in as her colleague. - -'If you have Miss Moffat,' said Alexandrina, 'you must have dear Pussy -too; and I really think that Pussy is too young; it will be -troublesome.' Pussy was the youngest Miss Gresham, who was now only -eight years old, and whose real name was Nina. - -'Augusta,' said Beatrice, speaking with some slight hesitation, some -soupcon of doubt before the highest authority of her noble cousin, 'if -you do have Miss Moffat would you mind asking Mary Thorne to join her? -I think Mary would like it, because, you see, Patience Oriel is to be -one; and we have known Mary much longer than we have known Patience.' - -Then out and spake the Lady Alexandrina. - -'Beatrice, dear, if you think of what you are asking, I am sure you -will see that it would not do; would not do at all. Miss Thorne is a -very nice girl, I am sure; and, indeed, what little I have seen of her -I highly approve. But, after all, who is she? Mamma, I know, thinks -that Aunt Arabella has been wrong to let be here so much, but--' - -Beatrice became rather red in the face, and, in spite of the dignity of -her cousin, was preparing to defend her friend. - -'Mind, I am not saying a word against Miss Thorne.' - -'If I am married before her, she shall be one of my bridesmaids,' said -Beatrice. - -'That will probably depend on circumstances,' said the Lady -Alexandrina; I find that I cannot bring my courteous pen to drop the -title. 'But Augusta is very peculiarly situated. Mr Moffat, is, you -see, not of the very highest birth; and, therefore, she should take -care that on her side every one about her is well born.' - -'Then you cannot have Miss Moffat,' said Beatrice. - -'No; I would not if I could help it,' said the cousin. - -'But the Thornes are as good a family as the Greshams,' said Beatrice. -She had not quite the courage to say, as good as the De Courcys. - -'I dare say they are; and if this was Miss Thorne of Ullathorne, -Augusta probably would not object to her. But can you tell me who Miss -Mary Thorne is?' - -'She is Dr Thorne's niece.' - -'You mean that she is called so; but do you know who her father was, or -who her mother was? I, for one, must own that I do not. Mamma, I -believe, does, but--' - -At this moment the door opened gently and Mary Thorne entered the room. - -It may easily be conceived, that while Mary was making her salutations -the three other young ladies were a little cast aback. The Lady -Alexandrina, however, quickly recovered herself, and, by her inimitable -presence of mind and facile grace of manner, soon put the matter on a -proper footing. - -'We were discussing Miss Gresham's marriage,' said she; 'I am sure I -may mention to an acquaintance of so long standing as Miss Thorne, that -the first of September has been now fixed for the wedding.' - -Miss Gresham! Acquaintance of so long standing! Why, Mary and Augusta -Gresham had for years, we will hardly say for how many, passed their -mornings together in the same schoolroom; had quarrelled, and -squabbled, and caressed and kissed, and been all but sisters to each -other. Acquaintance indeed! Beatrice felt that her ears were -tingling, and even Augusta was a little ashamed. Mary, however, knew -that the cold words had come from a De Courcy, and not from a Gresham, -and did not, therefore, resent them. - -'So it's settled, Augusta, is it?' said she; 'the first of September. I -wish you joy with all my heart,' and, coming round, she put her arm -over Augusta's shoulder and kissed her. The Lady Alexandrina could not -but think that the doctor's niece uttered her congratulations very much -as though she were speaking to an equal; very much as though she had a -father and mother of her own. - -'You will have delicious weather,' continued Mary. 'September, and the -beginning of October, is the nicest time of the year. If I were going -honeymooning it is just the time of year I would choose.' - -'I wish you were, Mary,' said Beatrice. - -'So do not I, dear, till I have found some decent sort of a body to -honeymoon along with me. I won't stir out of Greshamsbury till I have -sent you off before me, at any rate. And where will you go, Augusta?' - -'We have not settled that,' said Augusta. 'Mr Moffat talks of Paris.' - -'Who ever heard of going to Paris in September?' said the Lady -Alexandrina. - -The Lady Alexandrina was not pleased to find how completely the -doctor's niece took upon herself to talk, and sit, and act at -Greshamsbury as though she was on a par with the young ladies of the -family. That Beatrice should have allowed this would not have -surprised her; but it was to be expected that Augusta would have shown -better judgment. - -'These things require some tact in their management; some delicacy when -high interests are at stake,' said she; 'I agree with Miss Thorne in -thinking that, in ordinary circumstances, with ordinary people, -perhaps, the lady should have her way. Rank, however, has its -drawbacks, Miss Thorne, as well as its privileges.' - -'I should not object to the drawbacks,' said the doctor's niece, -'presuming them to be of some use; but I fear I might fail in getting -on so well with the privileges.' - -The Lady Alexandrina looked at her as though not fully aware whether -she intended to be pert. In truth, the Lady Alexandrina was rather in -the dark on the subject. It was almost impossible, it was incredible, -that a fatherless, motherless, doctor's niece should be pert to an -earl's daughter at Greshamsbury, seeing that that earl's daughter was -the cousin of the miss Greshams. And yet the Lady Alexandrina hardly -knew what other construction to put on the words she had just heard. - -It was at any rate clear to her that it was not becoming that she -should just then stay any longer in that room. Whether she intended to -be pert or not, Miss Mary Thorne was, to say the least, very free. The -De Courcy ladies knew what was due to them--no ladies better; and, -therefore, the Lady Alexandrina made up her mind at once to go to her -own bedroom. - -'Augusta,' she said, rising slowly from her chair with much stately -composure, 'it is nearly time to dress; will you come with me? We have -a great deal to discuss, you know.' - -So she swam out of the room, and Augusta, telling Mary that she would -see her again at dinner, swam--no, tried to swim--after her. Miss -Gresham had had great advantages; but she had not been absolutely -brought up at Courcy Castle, and could not as yet quite assume the -Courcy style of swimming. - -'There,' said Mary, as the door closed behind the rustling muslins of -the ladies. 'There, I have made an enemy for ever, perhaps two; that's -satisfactory.' - -'And why have you done it, Mary? When I am fighting your battles -behind your back, why do you come and upset it all by making the whole -family of the De Courcys dislike you? In such a matter as that, -they'll all go together.' - -'I am sure they will,' said Mary; 'whether they would be equally -unanimous in a case of love and charity, that, indeed, is another -question.' - -'But why should you try to make my cousin angry; you that ought to have -so much sense? Don't you remember that you were saying yourself the -other day, of the absurdity of combatting pretences which the world -sanctions?' - -'I do, Trichy, I do; don't scold me now. It is so much easier to -preach than to practise. I do so wish I was a clergyman.' - -'But you have done so much harm, Mary.' - -'Have I?' said Mary, kneeling down on the ground at her friend's feet. -'If I humble myself very low; if I kneel through the whole evening in a -corner; if I put my neck down and let all your cousins trample on it, -and then your aunt, would not that make atonement? I would not object -to wearing sackcloth, either; and I'd eat a little ashes--or, at any -rate, I'd try.' - -'I know you're clever, Mary; but still I think you're a fool. I do, -indeed.' - -'I am a fool, Trichy, I do confess it; and am not a bit clever; but -don't scold me; you see how humble I am; not only humble but umble, -which I look upon to be the comparative, or, indeed, superlative -degree. Or perhaps there are four degrees; humble, umble, stumble, -tumble; and then, when one is absolutely in the dirt at their feet, -perhaps these big people won't wish one to stoop any further.' - -'Oh, Mary!' - -'And, oh, Trichy! you don't mean to say I mayn't speak out before you. -There, perhaps you'd like to put your foot on my neck.' And then she -put her head down to the footstool and kissed Beatrice's feet. - -'I'd like, if I dared, to put my hand on your cheek and give you a good -slap for being such a goose.' - -'Do; do, Trichy: you shall tread on me, or slap me, or kiss me; -whichever you like.' - -'I can't tell you how vexed I am,' said Beatrice; 'I wanted to arrange -something.' - -'Arrange something! What? arrange what? I love arranging. I fancy -myself qualified to be an arranger-general in female matters. I mean -pots and pans, and such like. Of course I don't allude to -extraordinary people and extraordinary circumstances that require tact, -and delicacy, and drawbacks, and that sort of thing.' - -'Very well, Mary.' - -'But it's not very well; it's very bad if you look like that. Well, my -pet, there I won't. I won't allude to the noble blood of your noble -relatives either in joke or in earnest. What is it you want to -arrange, Trichy?' - -'I want you to be one of Augusta's bridesmaids.' - -'Good heavens, Beatrice! Are you mad? What! Put me, even for a -morning, into the same category of finery as the noble blood from -Courcy Castle!' - -'Patience is to be one.' - -'But that is no reason why Impatience should be another, and I should -be very impatient under such honours. No, Trichy; joking apart, do not -think of it. Even if Augusta wished it I would refuse. I should be -obliged to refuse. I, too, suffer from pride; a pride quite as -unpardonable as that of others: I could not stand with your four -lady-cousins behind your sister at the altar. In such a galaxy they -would be the stars and I--' - -'Why, Mary, all the world knows that you are prettier than any of -them!' - -'I am all the world's very humble servant. But, Trichy, I should not -object if I were as ugly as the veiled prophet and they all as -beautiful as Zuleika. The glory of that galaxy will be held to depend -not on its beauty; but on its birth. You know how they would look at -me; now they would scorn me; and there, in church, at the altar, with -all that is solemn round us, I could not return their scorn as I might -do elsewhere. In a room I'm not a bit afraid of them at all.' And -Mary was again allowing herself to be absorbed by that feeling of -indomitable pride, of antagonism to the pride of others, which she -herself in her cooler moments was the first to blame. - -'You often say, Mary, that that sort of arrogance should be despised -and passed over without notice.' - -'So it should, Trichy. I tell you that as a clergyman tells you to -hate riches. But though the clergyman tells you so, he is not the less -anxious to be rich himself.' - -'I particularly wish you to be one of Augusta's bridesmaids.' - -'And I particularly wish to decline the honour; which honour has not -been, and will not be, offered to me. No, Trichy. I will not be -Augusta's bridesmaid, but--but--but--' - -'But what, dearest?' - -'But, Trichy, when some one else is married, when the new wing has been -built to a house that you know of--' - -'Now, Mary, hold your tongue, or you know you'll make me angry.' - -'I do so like to see you angry. And when that time comes, when that -wedding does take place, then I will be a bridesmaid, Trichy. Yes! even -though I am not invited. Yes! though all the De Courcys in Barsetshire -should tread upon me and obliterate me. Though I should be dust among -the stars, though I should creep up in calico among their satins and -lace, I will nevertheless be there; close, close to the bride; to hold -something for her, to touch her dress, to feel that I am near to her, -to--to--to--' and she threw her arms round her companion, and kissed her -over and over again. 'No, Trichy; I won't be Augusta's bridesmaid; I'll -bide my time for bridesmaiding.' - -What protestations Beatrice made against the probability of such an -event as foreshadowed in her friend's promise we will not repeat. The -afternoon was advancing, and the ladies also had to dress for dinner, -to do honour to the young heir. - - - -CHAPTER V - -FRANK GRESHAM'S FIRST SPEECH - -We have said, that over and above those assembled in the house, there -came to the Greshamsbury dinner on Frank's birthday the Jacksons of the -Grange, consisting of Mr and Mrs Jackson; the Batesons from Annesgrove, -viz., Mr and Mrs Bateson, and Miss Bateson, their daughter--an unmarried -lady of about fifty; the Bakers of Mill Hill, father and son; and Mr -Caleb Oriel, the rector, with his beautiful sister, Patience. Dr -Thorne, and his niece Mary, we count among those already assembled at -Greshamsbury. - -There was nothing very magnificent in the number of the guests thus -brought together to do honour to young Frank; but he, perhaps, was -called on to take a more prominent part in the proceedings, to be made -more of a hero than would have been the case had half the county been -there. In that case the importance of the guests would have been so -great that Frank would have got off with a half-muttered speech or two; -but now he had to make a separate oration to every one, and very weary -work he found it. - -The Batesons, Bakers, and Jacksons were very civil; no doubt the more -so from an unconscious feeling on their part, that as the squire was -known to a little out at elbows as regards money, any deficiency on -their part might be considered as owing to the present state of affairs -at Greshamsbury. Fourteen thousand a year will receive honour; in that -case there is no doubt, and the man already possessing it is not apt to -be suspicious as to the treatment he may receive; but the ghost of -fourteen thousand a year is not always so self-assured. Mr Baker, -with his moderate income, was a very much richer man than the squire; -and, therefore, he was peculiarly forward in congratulating Frank on -the brilliancy of his prospects. - -Poor Frank had hardly anticipated what there would be to do, and before -dinner was announced he was very tired of it. He had no warmer feeling -for any of the grand cousins than a very ordinary cousinly love; and he -had resolved, forgetful of birth and blood, and all those gigantic -considerations which now that manhood had come upon him, he was bound -always to bear in mind,--he had resolved to sneak out to dinner -comfortably with Mary Thorne if possible; and if not with Mary, then -with his other love, Patience Oriel. - -Great, therefore, was his consternation at finding that, after being -kept continually in the foreground for half an hour before dinner, he -had to walk out to the dining-room with his aunt the countess, and take -his father's place for the day at the bottom of the table. - -'It will now depend altogether upon yourself, Frank, whether you -maintain or lose that high position in the county which has been held -by the Greshams for so many years,' said the countess, as she walked -through the spacious hall, resolving to lose no time in teaching to her -nephew that great lesson which it was so imperative that he should -learn. - -Frank took this as an ordinary lecture, meant to inculcate general good -conduct, such as old bores of aunts are apt to inflict on youthful -victims in the shape of nephews and nieces. - -'Yes,' said Frank; 'I suppose so; and I mean to go along all square, -aunt, and no mistake. When I get back to Cambridge, I'll read like -bricks.' - -His aunt did not care two straws about his reading. It was not by -reading that the Greshams of Greshamsbury had held their heads up in -the county, but by having high blood and plenty of money. The blood had -come naturally to this young man; but it behoved him to look for the -money in a great measure himself. She, Lady de Courcy, could doubtless -help him; she might probably be able to fit him with a wife who would -bring her money onto his birth. His reading was a matter in which she -could in no way assist him; whether his taste might lead him to prefer -books or pictures, or dogs and horses, or turnips in drills, or old -Italian plates and dishes, was a matter which did not much signify; -with which it was not at all necessary that his noble aunt should -trouble herself. - -'Oh! you are going to Cambridge again, are you? Well, if your father -wishes it;--though very little is ever gained now by a university -connexion.' - -'I am to take my degree in October, aunt; and I am determined, at any -rate, that I won't be plucked.' - -'Plucked!' - -'No; I won't be plucked. Baker was plucked last year, and all because -he got into the wrong set at John's. He's an excellent fellow if you -knew him. He got among a set of men who did nothing but smoke and -drink beer. Malthusians, we call them.' - -'Malthusians!' - -'"Malt", you know, aunt, and "use"; meaning that they drink beer. So -poor Harry Baker got plucked. I don't know that a fellow's any the -worse; however, I won't get plucked.' - -By this time the party had taken their place round the long board, Mr -Gresham sitting at the top, in the place usually occupied by Lady -Arabella. She, on the present occasion, sat next to her son on the one -side, as the countess did on the other. If, therefore, Frank now went -astray, it would not be from want of proper leading. - -'Aunt, will you have some beef?' said he, as soon as the soup and fish -had been disposed of, anxious to perform the rites of hospitality now -for the first time committed to his charge. - -'Do not be in a hurry, Frank,' said his mother; 'the servants -will--' - -'Oh! ah! I forgot; there are cutlets and those sort of things. My -hand is not yet in for this work, aunt. Well, as I was saying about -Cambridge--' - -'Is Frank to go back to Cambridge, Arabella?' said the countess to her -sister-in-law, speaking across her nephew. - -'So his father seems to say.' - -'Is it not a waste of time?' asked the countess. - -'You know I never interfere,' said the Lady Arabella; 'I never liked -the idea of Cambridge myself at all. All the De Courcys were -Christchurch men; but the Greshams, it seems, were always at -Cambridge.' - -'Would it not be better to send him abroad at once?' - -'Much better, I would think,' said the Lady Arabella; 'but you know, I -never interfere: perhaps you would speak to Mr Gresham.' - -The countess smiled grimly, and shook her head with a decidedly -negative shake. Had she said out loud to the young man, 'Your father -is such an obstinate, pig-headed, ignorant fool, that it is no use -speaking to him; it would be wasting fragrance on the desert air,' she -could not have spoken more plainly. The effect on Frank was this: that -he said to himself, speaking quite as plainly as Lady De Courcy had -spoken by her shake of the face, 'My mother and aunt are always down on -the governor, always; but the more they are down on him the more I'll -stick to him. I certainly will take my degree: I will read like -bricks; and I'll begin tomorrow.' - -'Now will you take some beef, aunt?' This was said out loud. - -The Countess de Courcy was very anxious to go on with her lesson -without loss of time; but she could not, while surrounded by guests and -servants, enunciate the great secret: 'You must marry money, Frank; -that is your one great duty; that is the matter to be borne steadfastly -in your mind.' She could not now, with sufficient weight and impress -of emphasis, pour this wisdom into his ears; the more especially as he -was standing up to his work of carving, and was deep to his elbows in -horse-radish, fat and gravy. So the countess sat silent while the -banquet proceeded. - -'Beef, Harry?' shouted the young heir to his friend Baker. 'Oh! but I -see it isn't your turn yet. I beg your pardon, Miss Bateson,' and he -sent to that lady a pound and a half of excellent meat, cut out with -great energy in one slice, about half an inch thick. - -And so the banquet went on. - -Before dinner Frank had found himself obliged to make numerous small -speeches in answer to the numerous individual congratulations of his -friends; but these were as nothing to the one great accumulated onus of -an oration which he had long known that he should have to sustain after -the cloth was taken away. Some one of course would propose his health, -and then there would be a clatter of voices, ladies and gentlemen, men -and girls; and when that was done he would find himself standing on his -legs, with the room about him, going round and round and round. - -Having had a previous hint of this, he had sought advice from his -cousin, the Honourable George, whom he regarded as a dab at speaking; -at least, so he had heard the Honourable George say of himself. - -'What the deuce is a fellow to say, George, when he stands up after the -clatter is done?' - -'Oh, it's the easiest thing in life,' said the cousin. 'Only remember -this: you mustn't get astray; that is what they call presence of mind, -you know. I'll tell you what I do, and I'm often called up, you know; -at our agriculturals I always propose the farmers' daughters: well, -what I do is this--I keep my eye steadfastly fixed on one of the -bottles, and never move it.' - -'On one of the bottles!' said Frank; 'wouldn't it be better if I made a -mark of some old covey's head? I don't like looking at the table.' - -'The old covey'd move, and then you'd be done; besides thee isn't the -least use in the world in looking up. I've heard people say, who go to -those sort of dinners every day of their lives, that whenever anything -witty is said; the fellow who says it is sure to be looking at the -mahogany.' - -'Oh, you know I shan't say anything witty; I'll be quite the other -way.' - -'But there's no reason you shouldn't learn the manner. That's the way -I succeed. Fix your eye on one of the bottles; put your thumbs in your -waist-coat pockets; stick out your elbows, bend your knees a little, -and then go ahead.' - -'Oh, ah! go ahead; that's all very well; but you can't go ahead if you -haven't got any steam.' - -'A very little does it. There can be nothing so easy as your speech. -When one has to say anything new every year about the farmers' -daughters, why one has to use one's brains a bit. Let's see: how will -you begin? Of course, you'll say that you are not accustomed to this -sort of thing; that the honour conferred upon you is too much for your -feelings; that the bright array of beauty and talent around you quite -overpowers your tongue, and all that sort of thing. Then declare -you're a Gresham to the backbone.' - -'Oh, they know that.' - -'Well, tell them again. Then of course you must say something about -us; or you'll have the countess as black as old Nick.' - -'Abut my aunt, George? What on earth can I say about her when she's -there herself before me?' - -'Before you! of course; that's just the reason. Oh, say any lie you -can think of; you must say something about us. You know we've come -down from London on purpose.' - -Frank, in spite of the benefit of receiving from his cousin's -erudition, could not help wishing in his heart that they had al -remained in London; but this he kept to himself. He thanked his cousin -for his hints, and though he did not feel that the trouble of his mind -was completely cured, he began to hope that he might go through the -ordeal without disgracing himself. - -Nevertheless, he felt rather sick at heart when Mr Baker got up to -propose the toast as soon as the servants were gone. The servants, -that is, were gone officially; but they were there in a body, men and -women, nurses, cooks, and ladies' maids, coachmen, grooms, and footmen, -standing in two doorways to hear what Master Frank would say. The old -housekeeper headed the maids at one door, standing boldly inside the -room; and the butler controlled the men at the other, marshalling them -back with a drawn corkscrew. - -Mr Baker did not say much; but what he did say, he said well. They had -all seen Frank Gresham grow up from a child; and were now required to -welcome as a man amongst them one who was well qualified to carry on -the honour of that loved and respected family. His young friend, -Frank, was every inch a Gresham. Mr Baker omitted to make mention of -the infusion of De Courcy blood, and the countess, therefore, drew -herself up on her chair and looked as though she were extremely bored. -He then alluded tenderly to his own long friendship with the present -squire, Francis Newbold Gresham the elder; and sat down, begging them -to drink health, prosperity, long life, and excellent wife to their -dear friend Francis Newbold Gresham the younger. - -There was a great jingling of glasses, of course; made the merrier and -the louder by the fact that the ladies were still there as well as the -gentlemen. Ladies don't drink toasts frequently; and, therefore, the -occasion coming rarely was the more enjoyed. 'God bless you, Frank!' -'Your good health, Frank!' 'And especially a good wife, Frank!' 'Two -or three of them, Frank!' 'Good health and prosperity to you, Mr -Gresham!' 'More power to you, Frank, my boy!' 'May God bless you and -preserve you, my dear boy!' and then a merry, sweet, eager voice from -the far end of the table, 'Frank! Frank! Do look at me, pray do -Frank; I am drinking your health in real wine; ain't I, papa?' Such -were the addresses which greeted Mr Francis Newbold Gresham the younger -as he essayed to rise up on his feet for the first time since he had -come to man's estate. - -When the clatter was at an end, and he was fairly on his legs, he cast -a glance before him on the table, to look for a decanter. He had not -much liked his cousin's theory of sticking to the bottle; nevertheless, -in the difficulty of the moment, it was well to have any system to go -by. But, as misfortune would have it, though the table was covered -with bottles, his eye could not catch one. Indeed, his eye first could -catch nothing, for the things swam before him, and the guests all -seemed to dance in their chairs. - -Up he got, however, and commenced his speech. As he could not follow -his preceptor's advice, as touching the bottle, he adopted his own -crude plan of 'making a mark on some old covey's head,' and therefore -looked dead at the doctor. - -'Upon my word, I am very much obliged to you, gentlemen and ladies, -ladies and gentlemen, I should say, for drinking my health, and doing -me so much honour, and all that sort of thing. Upon my word I am. -Especially to you, Mr Baker. I don't mean you, Harry, you're not Mr -Baker.' - -'As much as you're Mr Gresham, Master Frank.' - -'But I am not Mr Gresham; and I don't mean to be for many a long year -if I can help it; not at any rate till we have had another coming of -age here.' - -'Bravo, Frank; and whose will that be?' - -'That will be my son, and a very fine lad he will be; and I hope he'll -make a better speech than his father. Mr Baker said I was every inch a -Gresham. Well, I hope I am.' Here the countess began to look cold and -angry. 'I hope the day will never come when my father won't own me for -one.' - -'There's no fear, no fear,' said the doctor, who was almost put out of -countenance by the orator's intense gaze. The countess looked colder -and more angry, and muttered something to herself about a bear-garden. - -'Gardez Gresham; eh? Harry! mind that when you're sticking in a gap -I'm coming after you. Well, I am sure I am very obliged to you for the -honour you have all done me, especially the ladies who don't do this -sort of things on ordinary occasions. I wish they did; don't you, -doctor? And talking of the ladies, my aunty and cousins have come all -the way from London to hear me take this speech which certainly is not -worth the trouble; but, all the same I am very much obliged to them.' -And he looked round and made a little bow at the countess. 'And so I -am to Mr and Mrs Jackson, and Mr and Mrs and Miss Bateson, and Mr -Baker--I'm not at all obliged to you, Harry--and to Mr Oriel and Miss -Oriel, and to Mr Umbleby, and to Dr Thorne, and to Mary--I beg her -pardon, I mean Miss Thorne.' And then he sat down, amid the loud -plaudits of the company, and a string of blessings which came from the -servants behind him. - -After this the ladies rose and departed. As she went, Lady Arabella, -kissed her son's forehead, and then his sisters kissed him, and one or -two of his lady-cousins; and then Miss Bateson shook him by the hand. -'Oh, Miss Bateson,' said he, 'I though the kissing was to go all round.' -So Miss Bateson laughed and went her way; and Patience Oriel nodded at -him, but Mary Thorne, as she quietly left the room, almost hidden among -the extensive draperies of the grander ladies, hardly allowed her eyes -to meet his. - -He got up to hold the door for them as the passed; and as they went, he -managed to take Patience by the hand; he took her hand and pressed it -for a moment, but dropped it quickly, in order that he might go through -the same ceremony with Mary, but Mary was too quick for him. - -'Frank,' said Mr Gresham, as soon as the door was closed, 'bring your -glass here, my boy;' and the father made room for his son close beside -himself. 'The ceremony is now over, so you may have your place of -dignity.' Frank sat himself down where he was told, and Mr Gresham put -his hand on his son's shoulder and half caressed him, while the tears -stood in his eyes. 'I think the doctor is right, Baker, I think he'll -never make us ashamed of him.' - -'I am sure he never will,' said Baker. - -'I don't think he ever will,' said Dr Thorne. - -The tones of the men's voices were very different. Mr Baker did not -care a straw about it; why should he? He had an heir of his own as -well as the squire; one also who was the apple of his eye. But the -doctor,--he did care; he had a niece, to be sure, whom he loved, perhaps -as well as these men loved their sons; but there was room in his heart -also for young Frank Gresham. - -After this small expose of feeling they sat silent for a moment or -two. But silence was not dear to the heart of the Honourable John, and -so he took up the running. - -'That's a niceish nag you gave Frank this morning,' he said to his -uncle. 'I was looking at him before dinner. He is a Monsoon, isn't -he?' - -'Well I can't say I know how he was bred,' said the squire. 'He should -a good deal of breeding.' - -'He's a Monsoon, I'm sure,' said the Honourable John. 'They've all -those ears, and that peculiar dip in the back. I suppose you gave a -goodish figure for him?' - -'Not so very much,' said the squire. - -'He's a trained hunter, I suppose?' - -'If not, he soon will be,' said the squire. - -'Let Frank alone for that,' said Harry Baker. - -'He jumps beautifully, sir,' said Frank. 'I haven't tried him myself, -but Peter made him go over the bar two or three times this morning.' - -The Honourable John was determined to give his cousin a helping hand, -as he considered it. He thought that Frank was very ill used in being -put off with so incomplete stud, and thinking also that the son had not -spirit enough to attack his father himself on the subject, the -Honourable John determined to do it for him. - -'He's the making of a very nice horse, I don't doubt. I wish you had a -string like him, Frank.' - -Frank felt the blood rush to his face. He would not for worlds have -his father think that he was discontented, or otherwise than pleased -with the present he had received that morning. He was heartily ashamed -of himself in that he had listened with a certain degree of complacency -to his cousin's tempting; but he had no idea that the subject would be -repeated--and then repeated, too, before his father, in a manner to vex -him on such a day as this, before such people as were assembled here. -He was very angry with his cousin, and for a moment forgot all his -hereditary respect for a De Courcy. - -'I tell you what, John,' said he, 'do you choose your day, some day -early in the season, and come out on the best thing you have, and I'll -bring, not the black horse, but my old mare; and then do you try to -keep near me. If I don't leave you at the back of God-speed before -long, I'll give you the mare and the horse too.' - -The Honourable John was not known in Barsetshire as one of the most -forward of its riders. He was a man much addicted to hunting, as far -as the get-up of the thing was concerned; he was great in boots and -breeches; wondrously conversant with bits and bridles; he had quite a -collection of saddles; and patronized every newest invention for -carrying spare shoes, sandwiches, and flasks of sherry. He was -prominent at the cover side;--some people, including the master of -hounds, thought him perhaps a little too loudly prominent; he affected -a familiarity with the dogs, and was on speaking acquaintance with -every man's horse. But when the work was cut out, when the pace began -to be sharp, when it behoved a man either to ride or visibly to decline -to ride, then--so at least said they who had not the De Courcy interest -quite closely at heart--then, in those heart-stirring moments, the -Honourable John was too often found deficient. - -There was, therefore, a considerable laugh at his expense when Frank, -instigated to this innocent boast by a desire to save his father, -challenged his cousin to a trial of prowess. The Honourable John was -not, perhaps, as much accustomed to the ready use of his tongue as was -his honourable brother, seeing that it was not his annual business to -depict the glories of the farmers' daughters; at any rate, on this -occasion he seemed to be at some loss for words; he shut up, as the -slang phrase goes, and made no further allusion to the necessity of -supplying young Gresham with a proper stream of hunters. - -But the old squire had understood it all; had understood the meaning of -his nephew's attack; had thoroughly understood the meaning of his son's -defence, and the feeling which actuated it. He also had thought of the -stableful of horses which had belonged to himself when he became of -age; and of the much more humble position which his son would have to -fill than that which his father had prepared for him. He thought of -this, and was sad enough, though he had sufficient spirit to hide from -his friends around him the fact, that the Honourable John's arrow had -not been discharged in vain. - -'He shall have Champion,' said the father to himself. 'It is time for -me to give up.' - -Now Champion was one of the two fine old hunters which the squire kept -for his own use. And it might have been said of him now, at the period -of which we are speaking, that the only really happy moments of his -life were those which he spent in the field. So much as to its being -time for him to give up. - - - -CHAPTER VI - -FRANK GRESHAM'S EARLY LOVES - -It was, we have said, the first of July, and such being the time of the -year, the ladies, after sitting in the drawing-room for half an hour -or so, began to think that they might as well go through the -drawing-room windows on to the lawn. First one slipped out a little -way, and then another; and then they got on to the lawn; and then they -talked of their hats; till, by degrees, the younger ones of the party, -and the last of the elder also, found themselves dressed for walking. - -The windows, both of the drawing-room, and the dining-room, looked out -on to the lawn; and it was only natural that the girls should walk from -the former to the latter. It was only natural that they, being there, -should tempt their swains to come to them by the sight of their -broad-brimmed hats and evening dresses; and natural, also, that the -temptation should not be resisted. The squire, therefore, and the -elder male guests soon found themselves alone round their wine. - -'Upon my word, we were enchanted by your eloquence, Mr Gresham, were we -not?' said Miss Oriel, turning to one of the De Courcy girls who was -with her. - -Miss Oriel was a very pretty girl; a little older than Frank -Gresham,--perhaps a year or so. She had dark hair, large round dark -eyes, a nose a little too broad, a pretty mouth, a beautiful chin, and, -as we have said before, a large fortune;--that is, moderately large--let -us say twenty thousand pounds, there or thereabouts. She and her -brother had been living at Greshamsbury for the last two years, the -living having been purchased for him--such were Mr Gresham's -necessities--during the lifetime of the last old incumbent. Miss Oriel -was in every respect a nice neighbour; she was good-humoured, -lady-like, lively, neither too clever nor too stupid, belonging to a -good family, sufficiently fond of this world's good things, as became a -pretty young lady so endowed, and sufficiently fond, also, of the other -world's good things, as became the mistress of a clergyman's house. - -'Indeed, yes;' said the Lady Margaretta. 'Frank is very eloquent. When -he described our rapid journey from London, he nearly moved me to -tears. But well as he talks, I think he carves better.' - -'I wish you'd had to do it, Margaretta; both the carving and the -talking.' - -'Thank you, Frank; you're very civil.' - -'But there's one comfort, Miss Oriel; it's over now, and done. A fellow -can't be made to come of age twice.' - -'But you'll take your degree, Mr Gresham; and then, of course, there'll -be another speech; and then you'll get married, and there will be two -or three more.' - -'I'll speak at your wedding, Miss Oriel, before I do at my own.' - -'I shall not have the slightest objection. It will be so kind of you -to patronize my husband.' - -'But, by Jove, will he patronize me? I know you'll marry some awful -bigwig, or some terribly clever fellow; won't she, Margaretta?' - -'Miss Oriel was saying so much in praise of you before you came out,' -said Margaretta, 'that I began to think that her mind was intent at -remaining at Greshamsbury all her life.' - -Frank blushed, and Patience laughed. There was but a year's difference -in their age; but Frank, however, was still a boy, though Patience was -fully a woman. - -'I am ambitious, Lady Margaretta,' said she. 'I own it; but I am -moderate in my ambition. I do love Greshamsbury, and if Mr Gresham had -a younger brother, perhaps, you know--' - -'Another just like myself, I suppose,' said Frank. - -'Oh, yes. I could not possibly wish for any change.' - -'Just as eloquent as you are, Frank,' said the Lady Margaretta. - -'And as good a carver,' said Patience. - -'Miss Bateson has lost her heart to him for ever, because of his -carving,' said the Lady Margaretta. - -'But perfection never repeats itself,' said Patience. - -'Well, you see, I have not got any brothers,' said Frank; 'so all I can -do is to sacrifice myself.' - -'Upon my word, Mr Gresham, I am under more than ordinary obligations to -you; I am indeed,' said Miss Oriel, stood still in the path, and made a -very graceful curtsy. 'Dear me! only think, Lady Margaretta, that I -should be honoured with an offer from the heir the very moment he is -legally entitled to make one.' - -'And done with so much true gallantry, too,' said the other; -'expressing himself quite willing to postpone any views of his own for -your advantage.' - -'Yes;' said Patience; 'that's what I value so much: had he loved me -now, there would have been no merit on his part; but a sacrifice you -know--' - -'Yes, ladies are so fond of such sacrifices, Frank, upon my word, I had -no idea you were so very excellent at making speeches.' - -'Well,' said Frank, 'I shouldn't have said sacrifice, that was a slip; -what I meant was--' - -'Oh, dear me,' said Patience, 'wait a minute; now we are going to have -a regular declaration. Lady Margaretta, you haven't a scent-bottle, -have you? And if I should faint, where's the garden-chair?' - -'Oh, but I'm not going to make a declaration at all,' said Frank. - -'Are you not? Oh! Now, Lady Margaretta, I appeal to you; did you not -understand him to say something very particular?' - -'Certainly, I thought nothing could be plainer,' said the Lady -Margaretta. - -'And so, Mr Gresham, I am to be told, that after all it means nothing,' -said Patience, putting her handkerchief up to her eyes. - -'It means that you are an excellent hand at quizzing a fellow like me.' - -'Quizzing! No; but you are an excellent hand at deceiving a poor girl -like me. Well, remember, I have got a witness; here is Lady -Margaretta, who heard it all. What a pity it is that my brother is a -clergyman. You calculated on that, I know; or you would never had -served me so.' - -She said so just as her brother joined them, or rather just as he had -joined Lady Margaretta de Courcy; for her ladyship and Mr Oriel walked -on in advance by themselves. Lady Margaretta had found it rather dull -work, making a third in Miss Oriel's flirtation with her cousin; the -more so as she was quite accustomed to take a principal part herself in -all such transactions. She therefore not unwillingly walked on with Mr -Oriel. Mr Oriel, it must be conceived, was not a common, everyday -parson, but had points about him which made him quite fit to associate -with an earl's daughter. And as it was known that he was not a -marrying man, having very exalted ideas on that point connected with -his profession, the Lady Margaretta, of course, had the less objection -to trust herself alone with him. - -But directly she was gone, Miss Oriel's tone of banter ceased. It was -very well making a fool of a lad of twenty-one when others were by; but -there might be danger in it when they were alone together. - -'I don't know any position on earth more enviable than yours, Mr -Gresham,' said she, quite soberly and earnestly; 'how happy you ought -to be.' - -'What, in being laughed at by you, Miss Oriel, for pretending to be a -man, when you choose to make out that I am only a boy? I can bear to be -laughed at pretty well generally, but I can't say that your laughing at -me makes me feel so happy as you say I ought to be.' - -Frank was evidently of an opinion totally different from that of Miss -Oriel. Miss Oriel, when she found herself tete-a-tete with him, -thought it was time to give over flirting; Frank, however, imagined -that it was just the moment for him to begin. So he spoke and looked -very languishing, and put on him quite the airs of an Orlando. - -'Oh, Mr Gresham, such good friends as you and I may laugh at each -other, may we not?' - -'You may do what you like, Miss Oriel: beautiful women I believe always -may; but you remember what the spider said to the fly, "That which is -sport to you, may be death to me."' Anyone looking at Frank's face as -he said that, might well have imagined that he was breaking his very -heart for love of Miss Oriel. Oh, Master Frank! Master Frank! if you -act thus in the green leaf, what will you do in the dry? - -While Frank Gresham was thus misbehaving himself, and going on as -though to him belonged the privilege of falling in love with pretty -faces, as it does to ploughboys and other ordinary people, his great -interests were not forgotten by those guardian saints who were so -anxious to shower down on his head all manner of temporal blessings. - -Another conversation had taken place in the Greshamsbury gardens, in -which nothing light had been allowed to present itself; nothing -frivolous had been spoken. The countess, the Lady Arabella, and Miss -Gresham had been talking over Greshamsbury affairs, and they had -latterly been assisted by the Lady Amelia, than whom no De Courcy ever -born was more wise, more solemn, more prudent, more proud. The -ponderosity of her qualifications for nobility was sometimes too much -even for her mother, and her devotion for the peerage was such, that -she would certainly have declined a seat in heaven if offered to her -without the promise that it should be in the upper house. - -The subject first discussed had been Augusta's prospects. Mr Moffat -had been invited to Courcy Castle, and Augusta had been taken thither -to meet him, with the express intention on the part of the countess, -that they should be man and wife. The countess had been careful to -make it intelligible to her sister-in-law and niece, that though Mr -Moffat would do excellently well for a daughter of Greshamsbury, he -could not be allowed to raise his eyes to a female scion of Courcy -Castle. - -'Not that we personally dislike him,' said the Lady Amelia; 'but rank -has its drawbacks, Augusta.' As the Lady Amelia was now somewhat -nearer forty than thirty, and was still allowed to walk, - - 'In maiden meditation, fancy free,' - -it may be presumed that in her case rank had been found to have serious -drawbacks. - -To this Augusta said nothing in objection. Whether desirable by a De -Courcy or not, the match was to be hers, and there was no doubt -whatever as to the wealth of the man whose name she was to take; the -offer had been made, not to her, but to her aunt; the acceptance had -been expressed, not by her, but by her aunt. Had she thought of -recapitulating in her memory all that had ever passed between Mr Moffat -and herself, she would have found that it did not amount to more than -the most ordinary conversation between chance partners in a ball-room. -Nevertheless, she was to be Mrs Moffat. All that Mr Gresham knew of -him was, that when he met the young man for the first and only time in -his life, he found him extremely hard to deal with in the matter of -money. He had insisted on having ten thousand pounds with his wife, -and at last refused to go on with the match unless he got six thousand -pounds. This latter sum the poor squire had undertaken to pay him. - -Mr Moffat had been for a year or two MP for Barchester; having been -assisted in his views on that ancient city by all the De Courcy -interest. He was a Whig, of course. Not only had Barchester, -departing from the light of other days, returned a Whig member of -Parliament, but it was declared, that at the next election, now near at -hand, a Radical would be sent up, an man pledged to the ballot, to -economies of all sorts, one who would carry out Barchester politics in -all their abrupt, obnoxious, pestilent virulence. This was one -Scatcherd, a great railway contractor, a man who was a native of -Barchester, who had bought property in the neighbourhood, and who had -achieved a sort of popularity there and elsewhere by the violence of -his democratic opposition to the aristocracy. According to this man's -political tenets, the Conservatives should be laughed at as fools, but -the Whigs should be hated as knaves. - -Mr Moffat was now coming down to Courcy Castle to look after his -electioneering interests, and Miss Gresham was to return with her aunt -to meet him. The countess was very anxious that Frank should also -accompany them. Her great doctrine, that he must marry money, had been -laid down with authority, and received without doubt. She now pushed -it further, and said that no time should be lost; that he should not -only marry money, but do so very early in life; there was always a -danger in delay. The Greshams--of course she alluded only to the males -of the family--were foolishly soft-hearted; no one could say what might -happen. There was that Miss Thorne always at Greshamsbury. - -This was more than Lady Arabella could stand. She protested that there -was at least no ground for supposing that Frank would absolutely -disgrace his family. - -Still the countess continued: 'Perhaps not,' she said; 'but when young -people of perfectly different ranks were allowed to associate together, -there was no saying what danger might arise. They all know that old Mr -Bateson--the present Mr Bateson's father--had gone off with the -governess; and young Mr Everbeery, near Taunton, had only the other day -married a cook-maid.' - -'But Mr Everbeery was always drunk, aunt,' said Augusta, feeling called -upon to say something for her brother. - -'Never mind, my dear; these things do happen, and they are very -dreadful.' - -'Horrible!' said the Lady Amelia; 'diluting the best blood of the -country, and paving the way for revolution.' This was very grand; but, -nevertheless, Augusta could not but feel that she perhaps might be -about to dilute the blood of her coming children in marrying the -tailor's son. She consoled herself by trusting that, at any rate, she -paved the way for no revolution. - -'When a thing is so necessary,' said the countess, 'it cannot be done -too soon. Now, Arabella, I don't say that anything will come of it; -but it may; Miss Dunstable is coming down to us next week. Now, we all -know that when old Dunstable died last year, he left over two hundred -thousand to his daughter.' - -'It is a great deal of money, certainly,' said Lady Arabella. - -'It wold pay off everything, and a great deal more,' said the countess. - -'It was ointment, was it not, aunt?' said Augusta. - -'I believe so, my dear; something called the ointment of Lebanon, or -something of that sort: but there's no doubt about the money.' - -'But how old is she, Robina?' asked the anxious mother. - -'About thirty, I suppose; but I don't think that much signifies.' - -'Thirty,' said Lady Arabella, rather dolefully. 'And what is she -like? I think that Frank already begins to like girls that are young -and pretty.' - -'But surely, aunt,' said the Lady Amelia, 'now that he has come to -man's discretion, he will not refuse to consider all that he owes to -his family. A Mr Gresham of Greshamsbury has a position to support.' -The De Courcy scion spoke these last words in the sort of tone that a -parish clergyman would use, in warning some young farmer's son that he -should not put himself on an equal footing with the ploughboys. - -It was at last decided that the countess should herself convey to Frank -a special invitation to Courcy Castle, and that when she got him there, -she should do all that lay in her power to prevent his return to -Cambridge, and to further the Dunstable marriage. - -'We did think of Miss Dunstable for Porlock, once,' she said, naively; -'but when we found that it wasn't much over two hundred thousand, why -that idea fell to the ground.' The terms on which the De Courcy blood -might be allowed to dilute itself were, it must be presumed, very high -indeed. - -Augusta was sent off to find her brother, and to send him to the -countess in the small drawing-room. Here the countess was to have her -tea, apart from the outer common world, and her, without interruption, -she was to teach her great lesson to her nephew. - -Augusta did find her brother, and found him in the worst of bad -society--so at least the stern De Courcys would have thought. Old Mr -Bateson and the governess, Mr Everbeery and his cook's diluted blood, -and ways paved for revolutions, all presented themselves to Augusta's -mind when she found her brother walking with no other company than Mary -Thorne, and walking with her, too, in much too close proximity. - -How he had contrived to be off with the old love and so soon on with -the new, or rather, to be off with the new love and again on with the -old, we will not stop to inquire. Had Lady Arabella, in truth, known -all her son's doings in this way, could she have guessed how very nigh -he had approached the iniquity of old Mr Bateson, and to the folly of -young Mr Everbeery, she would in truth have been in a hurry to send him -off to Courcy Castle and Miss Dunstable. Some days before the -commencement of our story, young Frank had sworn in sober earnest--in -what he intended for his most sober earnest, his most earnest -sobriety--that he loved Mary Thorne with a love for which words could -find no sufficient expression--with a love that could never die, never -grow dim, never become less, which no opposition on the part of others -could extinguish, which no opposition on her part could repel; that he -might, could, would, and should have her for his wife, and that if she -told him she didn't love him, he would-- - -'Oh, oh! Mary; do you love me? Don't you love me? Won't you love -me? Say you will. Oh, Mary, dearest Mary, will you? won't you? do -you? don't you? Come now, you have a right to give a fellow an -answer.' - -With such eloquence had the heir of Greshamsbury, when not yet -twenty-one years of age, attempted to possess himself of the affections -of the doctor's niece. And yet three days afterwards he was quite -ready to flirt with Miss Oriel. - -If such things are done in the green wood, what will be done in the -dry? - -And what had Mary said when those fervent protestations of an undying -love had been thrown at her feet? Mary, it must be remembered, was -very nearly of the same age as Frank; but, as I an others have so often -said before, 'Women grow on the sunny side of the wall.' Though Frank -was only a boy, it behoved Mary to be something more than a girl. Frank -might be allowed, without laying himself open to much reproach, to -throw all of what he believed to be his heart into a protestation of -what he believed to be love; but Mary was in duty bound to be more -thoughtful, more reticent, more aware of the facts of their position, -more careful of her own feelings, and more careful also of his. - -And yet she could not put him down as another young lady might put down -another young gentleman. It is very seldom that a young man, unless he -be tipsy, assumes an unwelcome familiarity in his early acquaintance -with any girl; but when acquaintance has been long and intimate, -familiarities must follow as a matter of course. Frank and Mary had -been so much together in his holidays, had so constantly consorted -together as boys and girls, that, as regarded her, he had not that -innate fear of a woman which represses a young man's tongue; and she -was so used to his good-humour, his fun, and high jovial spirits, and -was, withal, so fond of them and him, that it was very difficult for -her to mark with accurate feeling, and stop with reserved brow, the -shade of change from a boy's liking to a man's love. - -And Beatrice, too, had done harm in this matter. With a spirit -painfully unequal to that of her grand relatives, she had quizzed Mary -and Frank about their early flirtations. This she had done; but had -instinctively avoided doing so before her mother and sister, and had -thus made a secret of it, as it were, between herself, Mary, and her -brother;--had given currency, as it were, to the idea that there might -be something serious between the two. Not that Beatrice had ever -wished to promote a marriage between them, or had even thought of such a -thing. She was girlish, thoughtless, imprudent, inartistic, and very -unlike a De Courcy. Very unlike a De Courcy she was in all that; but, -nevertheless, she had the De Courcy veneration for blood, and, more -than that, she had the Gresham feeling joined to that of the De -Courcys. The Lady Amelia would not for worlds have had the De Courcy -blood defiled; but gold she thought could not defile. Now Beatrice was -ashamed of her sister's marriage, and had often declared, within her -own heart, that nothing could have made her marry a Mr Moffat. - -She had said so also to Mary, and Mary had told her that she was -right. Mary was also proud of blood, was proud of her uncle's blood, -and the two girls talked together in all the warmth of girlish -confidence, of the great glories of family traditions and family -honours. Beatrice had talked in utter ignorance as to her friend's -birth; and Mary, poor Mary, she had talked, being as ignorant; but not -without a strong suspicion that, at some future time, a day of sorrow -would tell her some fearful truth. - -On one point Mary's mind was strongly made up. No wealth, no mere -worldly advantage could make any one her superior. If she were born a -gentlewoman, then was she fit to match with any gentleman. Let the -most wealthy man in Europe pour all his wealth at her feet, she could, -if so inclined, give him back at any rate more than that. That offered -at her feet she knew she would never tempt her to yield up the fortress -of her heart, the guardianship of her soul, the possession of her mind; -not that alone, nor that, even, as any possible slightest fraction of a -make-weight. - -If she were born a gentlewoman! And then came to her mind those -curious questions; what makes a gentleman? what makes a gentlewoman? -What is the inner reality, the spiritualised quintessence of that -privilege in the world which men call rank, which forces the thousands -and hundreds of thousands to bow down before the few elect? What -gives, or can give it, or should give it?' - -And she answered the question. Absolute, intrinsic, acknowledged, -individual merit must give it to its possessor, let him be whom, and -what, and whence he might. So far the spirit of democracy was strong -with her. Beyond this it could be had but by inheritance, received as -it were second-hand, or twenty-second hand. And so far the spirit of -aristocracy was strong within her. All this she had, as may be -imagined, learnt in early years from her uncle; and all this she was at -great pains to teach Beatrice Gresham, the chosen of her heart. - -When Frank declared that Mary had a right to give him an answer, he -meant that he had a right to expect one. Mary acknowledged this right, -and gave it to him. - -'Mr Gresham,' she said. - -'Oh, Mary; Mr Gresham!' - -'Yes, Mr Gresham. It must be Mr Gresham, after that. And, moreover, -it must be Miss Thorne as well.' - -'I'll be shot if it shall, Mary.' - -'Well; I can't say that I shall be shot if it be not so; but if it be -not so, if you do not agree that it shall be so, I shall be turned out -of Greshamsbury.' - -'What! you mean my mother?' said Frank. - -'Indeed! I mean no such thing,' said Mary, with a flash from her eye -that made Frank almost start. 'I mean no such thing. I mean you, not -your mother. I am not in the least afraid of Lady Arabella; but I am -afraid of you.' - -'Afraid of me, Mary!' - -'Miss Thorne; pray, pray, remember. It must be Miss Thorne. Do not -turn me out of Greshamsbury. Do not separate me from Beatrice. It is -you that will drive me out; no one else. I could stand my ground -against your mother--I feel I could; but I cannot stand against you if -you treat me otherwise than--than--' - -'Otherwise than what? I want to treat you as the girl I have chosen -from all the world as my wife.' - -'I am sorry you should so soon have found it necessary to make a -choice. But, Mr Gresham, we must not joke about this at present. I am -sure you would not willingly injure me; but if you speak to me, or of -me, again in that way, you will injure me, injure me so much that I -shall be forced to leave Greshamsbury, in my own defence. I know you -are too generous to drive me to that.' - -And so the interview had ended. Frank, of course, went upstairs to see -if his new pocket-pistols were all ready, properly cleaned, loaded, and -capped, should he find, after a few days' experience, that prolonged -existence was unendurable. - -However, he managed to live through the subsequent period; doubtless -with a view of preventing any appointment to his father's guests. - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE DOCTOR'S GARDEN - -Mary had contrived to quiet her lover with considerable propriety of -demeanour. Then came on her the somewhat harder task of quieting -herself. Young ladies, on the whole, are perhaps quite as susceptible -of the after feelings as young gentlemen are. Now Frank Gresham, was -handsome, amiable, by no means a fool in intellect, excellent in heart; -and he was, moreover, a gentleman, being the son of Mr Gresham of -Greshamsbury. Mary had been, as it were, brought up to love him. Had -aught but good happened to him, she would have cried as for a brother. -It must not therefore be supposed that when Frank Gresham told her that -he loved her, she had heard it altogether unconcerned. - -He had not, perhaps, made his declaration with that propriety of -language in which such scenes are generally described as being carried -on. Ladies may perhaps think that Mary should have been deterred, by -the very boyishness of his manner, from thinking at all seriously on -the subject. His 'will you, won't you--do you, don't you?' does not -sound like the poetic raptures of a highly inspired lover. But, -nevertheless, there had been warmth, and a reality in it not in itself -repulsive; and Mary's anger--anger? no, not anger--her objections to the -declarations were probably not based on the absurdity of her lover's -language. - -We are inclined to think that these matters are not always discussed by -mortal lovers in the poetically passionate phraseology which is -generally thought to be appropriate for their description. A man -cannot well describe that which he has never seen or heard; but the -absolute words and acts of one such scene did once come to the author's -knowledge. The couple were by no means plebeian, or below the proper -standard of high bearing and high breeding; they were a handsome pair, -living among educated people, sufficiently given to mental pursuits, -and in every way what a pair of polite lovers ought to be. The -all-important conversation passed in this wise. The site of the -passionate scene was the sea-shore, on which they were walking, in -autumn. - -Gentleman. 'Well, Miss --, the long and short of it is this: here I am; -you can take me or leave me.' - -Lady-scratching a gutter on the sand with her parasol, so as to allow a -little salt water to run out of one hole into another. 'Of course, I -know that's all nonsense.' - -Gentleman. 'Nonsense! By Jove, it isn't nonsense at all: come, Jane; -here I am: come, at any rate you can say something.' - -Lady. 'Yes, I suppose I can say something.' - -Gentleman. 'Well, which is it to be; take me or leave me?' - -Lady--very slowly, and with a voice perhaps hardly articulate, carrying -on, at the same time, her engineering works on a wider scale. 'Well, I -don't exactly want to leave you.' - -And so the matter was settled: settled with much propriety and -satisfaction; and both the lady and gentleman would have thought, had -they ever thought about the matter at all, that this, the sweetest -moment of their lives, had been graced by all the poetry by which such -moments ought to be hallowed. - -When Mary had, as she thought, properly subdued young Frank, the offer -of whose love she, at any rate, knew was, at such a period of his life, -an utter absurdity, then she found it necessary to subdue herself. What -happiness on earth could be greater than the possession of such a love, -had the true possession been justly and honestly within her reach? What -man could be more lovable than such a man as would grow from such a -boy? And then, did she not love him--love him already, without waiting -for any change? Did she not feel that there was that about him, about -him and about herself, too, which might so well fit them for each -other? It would be so sweet to be the sister of Beatrice, the daughter -of the squire, to belong to Greshamsbury as a part and parcel of -itself. - -But though she could not restrain these thoughts, it never for a moment -occurred to her to take Frank's offer in earnest. Though she was a -grown woman, he was still a boy. He would have to see the world before -he settled in it, and would change his mind about woman half a score of -times before he married. Then, too, though she did not like the Lady -Arabella, she felt that she owed something, if not to her kindness, at -least to her forbearance; and she knew, felt inwardly certain, that she -would be doing wrong, that the world would say that she was doing -wrong, that her uncle would think her wrong, if she endeavoured to take -advantage of what had passed. - -She had not for an instant doubted; not for a moment had she -contemplated it as possible that she should ever become Mrs Gresham -because Frank had offered to make her so; but, nevertheless, she could -not help thinking of what had occurred--of thinking of it, most probably -much more than Frank did himself. - -A day or two afterwards, on the evening before Frank's birthday, she -was alone with her uncle, walking in the garden behind their house, and -she then essayed to question him, with the object of learning if she -were fitted by her birth to be the wife of such a one as Frank -Gresham. They were in the habit of walking there together when he -happened to be at home of a summer's evening. This was not often the -case, for his hours of labour extended much beyond those usual to the -upper working world, the hours, namely, between breakfast and dinner; -but those minutes that they did thus pass together, the doctor regarded -as perhaps the pleasantest of his life. - -'Uncle,' said she, after a while, 'what do you think of this marriage -of Miss Gresham's?' - -'Well, Minnie'--such was his name of endearment for her--'I can't say I -have thought much about it, and I don't suppose anybody else has -either.' - -'She must think about it, of course; and so must he, I suppose.' - -'I'm not so sure of that. Some folks would never get married if they -had to trouble themselves with thinking about it.' - -'I suppose that's why you never got married, uncle?' - -'Either that, or thinking of it too much. One is as bad as the other.' - -'Well, I have been thinking about it, at any rate, uncle.' - -'That's very good of you; that will save me the trouble; and perhaps -save Miss Gresham too. If you have thought it over thoroughly, that -will do for all.' - -'I believe Mr Moffat is a man of no family.' - -'He'll mend in that point, no doubt, when he has got a wife.' - -'Uncle, you're a goose; and what is worse, a very provoking goose.' - -'Niece, you're a gander; and what is worse, a very silly gander. What -is Mr Moffat's family to you, and me? Mr Moffat has that which ranks -above family honours. He is a very rich man.' - -'Yes,' said Mary, 'I know he is rich; and a rich man I suppose can buy -anything--except a woman that is worth having.' - -'A rich man can buy anything,' said the doctor; 'not that I meant to -say that Mr Moffat has bought Miss Gresham. I have no doubt that they -will suit each other very well,' he added with an air of decisive -authority, as though he had finished the subject. - -But his niece was determined not to let him pass so. 'Now, uncle,'said -she, 'you know you are pretending to a great deal of worldly wisdom, -which, after all, is not wisdom at all in your eyes.' - -'Am I?' - -'You know you are: and as for the impropriety of discussing Miss -Gresham's marriage--' - -'I did not say it was improper.' - -'Oh, yes, you did; of course such things must be discussed. How is one -to have an opinion if one does not get it by looking at the things that -happen around us?' - -'Now I am going to be blown up,' said Dr Thorne. - -'Dear uncle, do be serious with me.' - -'Well, then, seriously, I hope Miss Gresham will be very happy as Mrs -Moffat.' - -'Of course you do: so do I. I hope it as much as I can hope what I -don't at all see ground for expecting.' - -'People constantly hope without any such ground.' - -'Well, then, I'll hope in this case. But, uncle--' - -'Well, my dear?' - -'I want your opinion, truly and really. If you were a girl--' - -'I am perfectly unable to give any opinion founded on so strange an -hypothesis.' - -'Well; but if you were a marrying man.' - -'The hypothesis is quite as much out of my way.' - -'But, uncle, I am a girl, and perhaps I may marry;--or at any rate think -of marrying some day.' - -'The latter alternative is certainly possible enough.' - -'Therefore, in seeing a friend taking such a step, I cannot but -speculate on the matter as though I were myself in her place. If I were -Miss Gresham, should I be right?' - -'But, Minnie, you are not Miss Gresham.' - -'No, I am Mary Thorne; it is a very different thing, I know. I suppose -I might marry any one without degrading myself.' - -It was almost ill-natured of her to say this; but she had not meant to -say it in the sense which the sounds seemed to bear. She had failed in -being able to bring her uncle to the point she wished by the road she -had planned, and in seeking another road, she had abruptly fallen into -unpleasant places. - -'I should be very sorry that my niece should think so,' said he; 'and -am sorry, too, that she should say so. But, Mary, to tell the truth, I -hardly know at what you are driving. You are, I think, not so clear -minded--certainly, not so clear worded--as is usual with you.' - -'I will tell you, uncle;' and, instead of looking up into his face, she -turned her eyes down on to the green lawn beneath her feet. - -'Well, Minnie, what is it?' and he took both her hands in his. - -'I think that Miss Gresham should not marry Mr Moffat. I think so -because her family is high and noble, and because he is low and -ignoble. When one has an opinion on such matters, one cannot but apply -it to things and people around one; and having applied my opinion to -her, the next step naturally is to apply it to myself. Were I Miss -Gresham, I would not marry Mr Moffat though he rolled in gold. I know -where to rank Miss Gresham. What I want to know is, where I ought to -rank myself?' - -They had been standing when she commenced he last speech; but as she -finished it, the doctor moved on again, and she moved with him. He -walked on very slowly without answering her; and she, out of her full -mind, pursued aloud the tenor of her thoughts. - -'That does not follow,' said the doctor quickly. 'A man raises a woman -to his own standard, but a woman must take that of her husband.' - -Again they were silent, and again they walked on, Mary holding her -uncle's arm with both her hands. She was determined, however, to come -to the point, and after considering for a while how best she might do -it, she ceased to beat any longer about the bush, and asked him a plain -question. - -'The Thornes are as good a family as the Greshams are they not?' - -'In absolute genealogy they are, my dear. That is, when I choose to be -an old fool and talk of such matters in a sense different from that in -which they are spoken of by the world at large, I may say that the -Thornes are as good, or perhaps better, than the Greshams, but I should -be sorry to say so seriously to any one. The Greshams now stand much -higher in the county than the Thornes do.' - -'But they are of the same class.' - -'Yes, yes; Wilfred Thorne of Ullathorne, and our friend the squire -here, are of the same class.' - -'But, uncle, I and Augusta Gresham--are we of the same class?' - -'Well, Minnie, you would hardly have me boast that I am the same class -with the squire--I, a poor country doctor?' - -'You are not answering me fairly, dear uncle; dearest uncle, do you not -know that you are not answering me fairly? You know what I mean. Have -I a right to call the Thornes of Ullathorne my cousins?' - -'Mary, Mary, Mary!' said he after a minute's pause, still allowing his -arm to hang loose, that she might hold it with both her hands. 'Mary, -Mary, Mary! I would that you had spared me this!' - -'I could not have spared it to you for ever, uncle.' - -'I would that you could have done so; I would that you could!' - -'It is over now, uncle: it is told now. I will grieve you no more. -Dear, dear, dearest! I should love you more than ever now; I would, I -would, I would if that were possible. What should I be but for you? -What must I have been but for you?' And she threw herself on his -breast, and clinging with her arms round his neck, kissed his forehead, -cheeks, and lips. - -There was nothing more said then on the subject between them. Mary -asked no further question, nor did the doctor volunteer further -information. She would have been most anxious to ask about her -mother's history had she dared to do so; but she did not dare to ask; -she could not bear to be told that her mother had been, perhaps was, a -worthless woman. That she was truly a daughter of a brother of the -doctor, that she did know. Little as she had heard of her relatives in -her early youth, few as had been the words which had fallen from her -uncle in her hearing as to her parentage, she did know this, that she -was the daughter of Henry Thorne, a brother of the doctor, and a son of -the old prebendary. Trifling little things that had occurred, -accidents which could not be prevented, had told her this; but not a -word had ever passed any one's lips as to her mother. The doctor, when -speaking of his youth, had spoken of her father; but no one had spoken -of her mother. She had long known that she was the child of a Thorne; -now she knew also that she was no cousin of the Thornes of Ullathorne; -no cousin, at least, in the world's ordinary language, no niece indeed -of her uncle, unless by his special permission that she should be so. - -When the interview was over, she went up alone to the drawing-room, and -there she sat thinking. She had not been there long before her uncle -came up to her. He did not sit down, or even take off the hat which he -still wore; but coming close to her, and still standing, he spoke -thus:- - -'Mary, after what has passed I should be very unjust and very cruel to -you not to tell you one thing more than you have now learned. Your -mother was unfortunate in much, not in everything; but the world, which -is very often stern in such matters, never judged her to have disgraced -herself. I tell you this, my child, in order that you may respect her -memory;' and so saying, he again left her without giving her time to -speak a word. - -What he then told her he had told in mercy. He felt what must be her -feelings when she reflected that she had to blush for her mother; that -not only could she not speak of her mother, but that she might hardly -think of her with innocence; and to mitigate such sorrow as this, and -also to do justice to the woman whom his brother had so wronged, he had -forced himself to reveal so much as is stated above. - -And then he walked slowly by himself, backwards and forwards through -the garden, thinking of what he had done with reference to this girl, -and doubting whether he had done wisely and well. He had resolved, when -first the little infant was given over to his charge, that nothing -should be known of her or by her as to her mother. He was willing to -devote himself to this orphan child of his brother, this last seedling -of his father's house; but he was not willing so to do this as to bring -himself in any manner into familiar contact with the Scatcherds. He -had boasted to himself that he, at any rate, was a gentleman; and that -she, if she were to live in his house, sit at his table, and share his -hearth, must be a lady. He would tell no lie about her; he would not -to any one make her out to be aught other or aught better than she was; -people would talk about her of course, only let them not talk to him; -he conceived of himself--and the conception was not without due -ground--that should any do so, he had that within him which would -silence them. He would never claim for this little creature--thus -brought into the world without a legitimate position in which to -stand--he would never claim for her any station that would not properly -be her own. He would make for her a station as best he could. As he -might sink or swim, so should she. - -So he had resolved; but things had arranged themselves, as they often -do, rather than been arranged by him. During ten or twelve years no -one had heard of Mary Thorne; the memory of Henry Thorne and his tragic -death had passed away; the knowledge that an infant had been born whose -birth was connected with that tragedy, a knowledge never widely spread, -had faded down into utter ignorance. At the end of these twelve years, -Dr Thorne had announced, that a young niece, a child of a brother long -since dead, was coming to live with him. As he had contemplated, no -one spoke to him; but some people did no doubt talk among themselves. -Whether or not the exact truth was surmised by any, it matters not to -say; with absolute exactness, probably not; with great approach to it, -probably yes. By one person, at any rate, no guess whatever was made; -no thought relative to Dr Thorne's niece ever troubled him; no idea -that Mary Scatcherd had left a child in England ever occurred to him; -and that person was Roger Scatcherd, Mary's brother. - -To one friend, and only one, did the doctor tell the whole truth, and -that was to the old squire. 'I have told you,' said the doctor, -'partly that you may know that the child has no right to mix with your -children if you think much of such things. Do you, however, see to -this. I would rather that no one else should be told.' - -No one else had been told; and the squire had 'seen to it,' by -accustoming himself to look at Mary Thorne running about the house with -his own children as though she were of the same brood. Indeed, the -squire had always been fond of Mary, had personally noticed her, and, -in the affair of Mam'selle Larron, had declared that he would have her -placed at once on the bench of magistrates;--much to the disgust of the -Lady Arabella. - -And so things had gone on and on, and had not been thought of with much -downright thinking; till now, when she was one-and-twenty years of -age, his niece came to him, asking as to her position, and inquiring in -what rank of life she was to find a husband. - -And so the doctor walked, backwards and forwards through the garden, -slowly, thinking now with some earnestness what if, after all, he had -been wrong about his niece? What if by endeavouring to place her in -the position of a lady, he had falsely so placed her, and robbed her of -her legitimate position? What if there was no rank of life in which -she could now properly attach herself? - -And then, how had it answered, that plan of his of keeping her all to -himself? He, Dr Thorne, was still a poor man; the gift of saving money -had not been his; he had ever a comfortable house for her to live in, -and, in spite of Doctors Fillgrave, Century, Rerechild, and others, had -made from his profession an income sufficient for their joint wants; -but he had not done as others do: he had no three or four thousand -pounds in the Three per Cents., on which Mary might live in some -comfort when he should die. Late in life he had insured his life for -eight hundred pounds; and to that, and that only, had he to trust for -Mary's future maintenance. How had it answered, then, this plan of -letting her be unknown to, and undreamed of, by, those who were as near -to her on her mother's side as he was on the father's? On that side, -though there had been utter poverty, there was now absolute wealth. - -But when he took her to himself, had he not rescued her from the very -depths of the lowest misery: from the degradation of the workhouse; -from the scorn of honest-born charity-children; from the lowest of the -world's low conditions? Was she not now the apple of his eye, his one -great sovereign comfort--his pride, his happiness, his glory? Was he to -make her over, to make any portion of her over to others, if, by doing -so, she might be able to share the wealth, as well as the coarse -manners and uncouth society of her at present unknown connexions? He, -who had never worshipped wealth on his own behalf; he, who had scorned -the idol of the gold, and had ever been teaching her to scorn it; was -he now to show that his philosophy had all been false as soon as the -temptation to do so was put in his way? - -But yet, what man would marry this bastard child, without a sixpence, -and bring not only poverty, but ill blood also on his own children? It -might be very well for him, Dr Thorne; for him whose career was made, -whose name, at any rate, was his own; for him who had a fixed -standing-ground in the world; it might be well for him to indulge in -large views of a philosophy antagonistic to the world's practice; but -had he a right to do it for his niece? What man would marry a girl so -placed? For those among whom she might have legitimately found a -level, education had now utterly unfitted her. And then, he well knew -that she would never put out her hand in token of love to any one -without telling all she knew and all she surmised as to her own birth. - -And that question of this evening; had it not been instigated by some -appeal on her part? Was there not already within her breast some cause -for disquietude which had made her so pertinacious? Why else had she -told him then, for the first time, that she did not know where to rank -herself? If such an appeal had been made to her, it must have come -from young Frank Gresham. What, in such case, would it behove him to -do? Should he pack up his all, his lancet-case, pestle and mortar, and -seek anew fresh ground in a new world, leaving behind a huge triumph to -those learned enemies of his, Fillgrave, Century, and Rerechild? Better -that than remain at Greshamsbury at the cost of the child's heart and -pride. - -And so he walked slowly backwards and forwards through his garden, -meditating these things painfully enough. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -MATRIMONIAL PROSPECTS - -It will of course be remembered that Mary's interview with the other -girls at Greshamsbury took place some two or three days subsequently to -Frank's generous offer of his hand and heart. Mary had quite made up -her mind that the whole thing was to be regarded as a folly, and that -it was not to be spoken of to any one; but yet her heart was sore -enough. She was full of pride, and yet she knew she must bow her neck -to the pride of others. Being, as she was herself, nameless, she could -not but feel a stern, unflinching antagonism, the antagonism of a -democrat, to the pretensions of others who were blessed with that of -which she had been deprived. She had this feeling; and yet, of all the -things that she coveted, she most coveted that, for glorying in which, -she was determined to heap scorn on others. She said to herself, -proudly, that God's handiwork was the inner man, the inner woman, the -naked creature animated by a living soul; that all other adjuncts were -but man's clothing for the creature; all others, whether stitched by -tailors or contrived by kings. Was it not within her capacity to do as -nobly, to love as truly, to worship her God in heaven with as perfect a -faith, and her god on earth with as leal a troth, as though blood had -descended to her purely through scores of purely born progenitors? So -to herself she spoke; and yet, as she said it, she knew that were she a -man, such a man as the heir of Greshamsbury should be, nothing would -tempt her to sully her children's blood by mating herself with any one -that was base born. She felt that were she Augusta Gresham, no Mr -Moffat, let his wealth be what it might, should win her hand unless he -too could tell of family honours and a line of ancestors. - -And so, with a mind at war with itself, she came forth armed to do -battle against the world's prejudices, those prejudices she herself -loved so well. - -And was she thus to give up her old affections, her feminine loves, -because she found that she was a cousin to nobody? Was she no longer -to pour out her heart to Beatrice Gresham with all the girlish -volubility of an equal? Was she to be severed from Patience Oriel, and -banished--or rather was she to banish herself--from the free place she -had maintained in the various youthful female conclaves within that -parish of Greshamsbury? - -Hitherto, what Mary Thorne would say, what Miss Thorne suggested in -such and such a matter, was quite as frequently asked as any opinion -from Augusta Gresham--quite as frequently, unless when it chanced that -any of the De Courcy girls were at the house. Was this to be given -up? These feelings had grown up among them since they were children, -and had not hitherto been questioned among them. Now they were -questioned by Mary Thorne. Was she in fact to find that her position -had been a false one, and must be changed? - -Such had been her feelings when she protested that she would not be -Augusta Gresham's bridesmaid, and offered to put her neck beneath -Beatrice's foot; when she drove the Lady Margaretta out of the room, -and gave her own opinion as to the proper grammatical construction of -the word humble; such also had been her feelings when she kept her hand -so rigidly to herself while Frank held the dining-room door open for -her to pass through. - -'Patience Oriel,' said she to herself, 'can talk to him of her father -and mother: let Patience take his hand; let her talk to him;' and then, -not long afterwards, she saw that Patience did talk to him; and seeing -it, she walked along silent, among some of the old people, and with -much effort did prevent a tear from falling down her cheek. - -But why was the tear in her eye? Had she not proudly told Frank that -his love-making was nothing but a boy's silly rhapsody? Had she not -said so while she had yet reason to hope that her blood was as good as -his own? Had she not seen at a glance that his love tirade was worthy -of ridicule, and of no other notice? And yet there was a tear now in -her eye because this boy, whom she had scolded from her, whose hand, -offered in pure friendship, she had just refused, because he, so -rebuffed by her, had carried his fun and gallantry to one who would be -less cross to him! - -She could hear as she was walking, that while Lady Margaretta was with -them, their voices were loud and merry; and her sharp ear could also -hear, when Lady Margaretta left them, that Frank's voice became low and -tender. So she walked on, saying nothing, looking straight before her, -and by degrees separating herself from all the others. - -The Greshamsbury grounds were on one side somewhat too closely hemmed -in by the village. On this side was a path running the length of one -of the streets of the village; and far down the path, near the -extremity of the gardens, and near also to a wicket-gate which led out -into the village, and which could be opened from the inside, was a -seat, under a big yew-tree, from which, through a breach in the houses, -might be seen the parish church, standing in the park on the other -side. Hither Mary walked alone, and here she seated herself, -determined to get rid of her tears and their traces before she again -showed herself to the world. - -'I shall never be happy here again,' said she to herself; 'never. I am -no longer one of them, and I cannot live among them unless I am so.' -And then an idea came across her mind that she hated Patience Oriel; -and then, instantly another idea followed--quick as such thoughts are -quick--that she did not hate Patience Oriel at all; that she liked her, -nay, loved her; that Patience Oriel was a sweet girl; and that she -hoped the time would come when she might see her the lady of -Greshamsbury. And then the tear, which had been no whit controlled, -which indeed had now made itself master of her, came to a head, and, -bursting through the floodgates of the eye, came rolling down, and in -its fall, wetted her hand as it lay on her lap. 'What a fool! what an -idiot! what an empty-headed cowardly fool I am!' said she, springing -up from the bench on her feet. - -As she did so, she heard voices close to her, at the little gate. They -were those of her uncle and Frank Gresham. - -'God bless you, Frank!' said the doctor, as he passed out of the -grounds. 'You will excuse a lecture, won't you, from so old a -friend?--though you are a man now, and discreet of course, by Act of -Parliament.' - -'Indeed I will, doctor,' said Frank. 'I will excuse a longer lecture -than that from you.' - -'At any rate it won't be tonight,' said the doctor, as he disappeared. -'And if you see Mary, tell her that I am obliged to go; and that I will -send Janet down to fetch her.' - -Now Janet was the doctor's ancient maid-servant. - -Mary could not move on, without being perceived; she therefore stood -still till she heard the click of the door, and then began walking -rapidly back to the house by the path which had brought her thither. -The moment, however, that she did so, she found that she was followed; -and in a very few moments Frank was alongside of her. - -'Oh, Mary!' said he, calling to her, but not loudly, before he quite -overtook her, 'how odd that I should come across you just when I have a -message for you! and why are you all alone?' - -Mary's first impulse was to reiterate her command to him to call her no -more by her Christian name; but her second impulse told her that such -an injunction at the present moment would not be prudent on her part. -The traces of her tears were still there; and she well knew that a very -little, the slightest show of tenderness on his part, the slightest -effort on her own to appear indifferent, would bring down more than one -other such intruder. It would, moreover, be better for her to drop all -outward sign that she remembered what had taken place. So long, then, -as he and she were at Greshamsbury together, he should call her Mary if -he pleased. He would soon be gone; and while he remained, she would -keep out of his way. - -'Your uncle has been obliged to go away to see an old woman at -Silverbridge.' - -'At Silverbridge! why, he won't be back all night. Why could not the -old woman send for Dr Century?' - -'I suppose she thought two old women could not get on well together.' - -Mary could not help smiling. She did not like her uncle going off so -late on such a journey; but it was always felt a triumph when he was -invited into the strongholds of the enemies. - -'And Janet is to come over for you. However, I told him it was quite -unnecessary to disturb another old woman, for that I should see you -home.' - -'Oh, no, Mr Gresham; indeed you'll not do that.' - -'Indeed, and indeed, I shall.' - -'What! on this great day, when every lady is looking for you, and -talking of you. I suppose you want to set the countess against me for -ever. Think, too, how angry Lady Arabella will be if you are absent on -such and errand as this.' - -'To hear you talk, Mary, one would think that you were going to -Silverbridge yourself.' - -'Perhaps I am.' - -'If I did not go with you, some of the other fellows would. John, or -George--' - -'Good gracious, Frank! Fancy either of the Mr De Courceys walking home -with me!' - -She had forgotten herself, and the strict propriety on which she had -resolved, in the impossibility of forgoing her little joke against the -De Courcy grandeur; she had forgotten herself, and had called him Frank -in her old, former, eager, free tone of voice; and then, remembering -she had done so, she drew herself up, but her lips, and determined to -be doubly on her guard in the future. - -'Well, it shall be either one of them, or I,' said Frank: 'perhaps you -would prefer my cousin George to me?' - -'I should prefer Janet to either, seeing that with her I should not -suffer the extreme nuisance of knowing that I was a bore.' - -'A bore! Mary, to me?' - -'Yes, Mr Gresham, a bore to you. Having to walk home through the mud -with village young ladies is boring. All gentlemen feel it so.' - -'There is no mud; if there were you would not be allowed to walk at -all.' - -'Oh! village young ladies never care for such things, though -fashionable gentlemen do.' - -'I would carry you home, Mary, if it would do you a service,' said -Frank, with considerable pathos in his voice. - -'Oh, dear me! pray do not, Mr Gresham. I should not like it at all,' -said she: 'a wheelbarrow would be preferable to that.' - -'Of course. Anything would be preferable to my arm, I know.' - -'Certainly; anything in the way of a conveyance. If I were to act -baby; and you were to act nurse, it really would not be comfortable for -either of us.' - -Frank Gresham felt disconcerted, though he hardly knew why. He was -striving to say something tender to his lady-love; but every word that -he spoke she turned into joke. Mary did not answer him coldly or -unkindly; but, nevertheless, he was displeased. One does not like to -have one's little offerings of sentimental service turned into -burlesque when one is in love in earnest. Mary's jokes had appeared so -easy too; they seemed to come from a heart so little troubled. This, -also, was cause of vexation to Frank. If he could but have known it -all, he would, perhaps, have been better pleased. - -He determined not to be absolutely laughed out of his tenderness. When, -three days ago, he had been repulsed, he had gone away owning to -himself that he had been beaten; owning so much, but owning it with -great sorrow and much shame. Since that he had come of age; since that -he had made speeches, and speeches had been made to him; since that he -had gained courage by flirting with Patience Oriel. No faint heart -ever won a fair lady, as he was well aware; he resolved, therefore, -that his heart should not be faint, and that he would see whether the -fair lady might not be won by becoming audacity. - -'Mary,' said he, stopping in the path--for they were now near the spot -where it broke out upon the lawn, and they could already hear the -voices of the guests--'Mary, you are unkind to me.' - -'I am not aware of it, Mr Gresham; but if I am, do not you retaliate. I -am weaker than you, and in your power; do not you, therefore, be unkind -to me.' - -'You refused my hand just now,' continued he. 'Of all the people here -at Greshamsbury, you are the only one that has not wished me joy; the -only one--' - -'I do wish you joy; I will wish you joy: there is my hand,' and she -frankly put out her ungloved hand. 'You are quite man enough to -understand me: there is my hand; I trust you use it only as it is meant -to be used.' - -He took it in his hand and pressed it cordially, as he might have done -that of any other friend in such a case; and then--did not drop it as -he should have done. He was not a St Anthony, and it was most -imprudent in Miss Thorne to subject him to such a temptation. - -'Mary,' said he; 'dear Mary! dearest Mary! if you did but know how I -love you!' - -As he said this, holding Miss Thorne's hand he stood on the pathway -with his back towards the lawn and house, and, therefore, did not at -first see his sister Augusta, who had just at that moment come upon -them. Mary blushed up to her straw hat, and, with a quick jerk, -recovered her hand. Augusta saw the motion, and Mary saw that Augusta -had seen it. - -From my tedious way of telling it, the reader will be led to imagine -that the hand-squeezing had been protracted to a duration quite -incompatible with any objection to such an arrangement on the part of -the lady; but the fault is mine: in no part hers. Were I possessed of -a quick spasmodic style of narrative, I should have been able to -include it all--Frank's misbehaviour, Mary's immediate anger, Augusta's -arrival, and keen, Argus-eyed inspection, and then Mary's subsequent -misery--in five words and half a dozen dashes and inverted commas. The -thing would have been so told; for, to do Mary justice, she did not -leave her hand in Frank's a moment longer than she could help herself. - -Frank, feeling the hand withdrawn, and hearing, when it was too late, -the step on the gravel, turned sharply round. 'Oh, it's you, is it, -Augusta? Well, what do you want?' - -Augusta was not naturally very ill-natured, seeing that in her veins -the high De Courcy blood was somewhat tempered by an admixture of the -Gresham attributes; nor was she predisposed to make her brother her -enemy by publishing to the world any of his little tender peccadilloes; -but she could not but bethink herself of what her aunt had been saying -as to the danger of any such encounters as that she just now had -beheld; she could not but start at seeing her brother thus, on the very -brink of the precipice of which the countess had specially forewarned -her mother. She, Augusta, was, as she well knew, doing her duty by her -family by marrying a tailor's son for whom she did not care a chip, -seeing that the tailor's son was possessed of untold wealth. Now when -one member of a household is making a struggle for a family, it is -painful to see the benefit of that struggle negatived by the folly of -another member. The future Mrs Moffat did feel aggrieved by the -fatuity of the young heir, and, consequently, took upon herself to look -as much like her Aunt De Courcy as she could do. - -'Well, what is it?' said Frank, looking rather disgusted. 'What makes -you stick your chin up and look in that way?' Frank had hitherto been -rather a despot among his sisters, and forgot that the eldest of them -was now passing altogether from under his sway to that of the tailor's -son. - -'Frank,' said Augusta, in a tone of voice which did honour to the great -lessons she had lately received. 'Aunt De Courcy wants to see you -immediately in the small drawing-room;' and, as she said so, she -resolved to say a few words of advice to Miss Thorne as soon as her -brother should have left them. - -'In the small drawing-room, does she? Well, Mary, we may as well go -together, for I suppose it is tea-time now.' - -'You had better go at once, Frank,' said Augusta; 'the countess will be -angry if you keep her waiting. She has been expecting you these twenty -minutes. Mary Thorne and I can return together.' - -There was something in the tone in which the word, 'Mary Thorne', were -uttered, which made Mary at once draw herself up. 'I hope,' said she, -'that Mary Thorne will never be a hindrance to either of you.' - -Frank's ear had also perceived that there was something in the tone of -his sister's voice not boding comfort to Mary; he perceived that the De -Courcy blood in Augusta's veins was already rebelling against the -doctor's niece on his part, though it had condescended to submit itself -to the tailor's son on her own part. - -'Well, I am going,' said he; 'but look here Augusta, if you say one -word of Mary--' - -Oh, Frank! Frank! you boy, you very boy! you goose, you silly goose! -Is that the way you make love, desiring one girl not to tell another, -as though you were three children, tearing your frocks and trousers in -getting through the same hedge together? Oh, Frank! Frank! you, the -full-blown heir of Greshamsbury? You, a man already endowed with a -man's discretion? You, the forward rider, that did but now threaten -young Harry Baker and the Honourable John to eclipse them by prowess in -the field? You, of age? Why, thou canst not as yet have left thy -mother's apron-string. - -'If you say one word of Mary--' - -So far had he got in his injunction to his sister, but further than -that, in such a case, was he never destined to proceed. Mary's -indignation flashed upon him, striking him dumb long before the sound -of her voice reached his ears; and yet she spoke as quick as the words -would come to her call, and somewhat loudly too. - -'Say one word of Mary, Mr Gresham! And why should she not say as many -words of Mary as she may please? I must tell you all now, Augusta! and -I must also beg you not to be silent for my sake. As far as I am -concerned, tell it to whom you please. This was the second time your -brother--' - -'Mary, Mary,' said Frank, deprecating her loquacity. - -'I beg your pardon, Mr Gresham; you have made it necessary that I -should tell your sister all. He has now twice thought it well to amuse -himself by saying to me words which it was ill-natured in him to speak, -and--' - -'Ill-natured, Mary!' - -'Ill-natured in him to speak,' continued Mary, 'and to which it would -be absurd for me to listen. He probably does the same to others,' she -added, being unable in heart to forget that sharpest of her wounds, -that flirtation of his with Patience Oriel; 'but to me it is almost -cruel. Another girl might laugh at him, or listen to him, as he would -choose; but I can do neither. I shall now keep away from Greshamsbury, -at any rate till he has left it; and, Augusta, I can only beg you to -understand, that, as far as I am concerned, there is nothing which may -not be told to all the world.' - -And, so saying, she walked on a little in advance of them, as proud as -a queen. Had Lady de Courcy herself met her at this moment, she would -almost have felt herself forced to shrink out of the pathway. 'Not say -a word of me!' she repeated to herself, but still out loud. 'No word -need be left unsaid on my account; none, none.' - -Augusta followed her, dumfounded at her indignation; and Frank also -followed, but not in silence. When his first surprise at Mary's great -anger was over, he felt himself called upon to say some word that might -exonerate his lady-love; and some word also of protestation as to his -own purpose. - -'There is nothing to be told, at least of Mary,' he said, speaking to -his sister; 'but of me, you may tell this, if you choose to disoblige -your brother--that I love Mary Thorne with all my heart; and that I will -never love anyone else.' - -By this time they had reached the lawn, and Mary was able to turn away -from the path which led up to the house. As she left them she said in -a voice, now low enough, 'I cannot prevent him from talking nonsense, -Augusta; but you will bear me witness, that I do not willingly hear -it.' And, so saying, she started off almost in a run towards the -distant part of the gardens, in which she saw Beatrice. - -Frank, as he walked up to the house with his sister, endeavoured to -induce her to give him a promise that she would tell no tales as to -what she had heard and seen. - -'Of course, Frank, it must be all nonsense,' she had said; 'and you -shouldn't amuse yourself in such a way.' - -'Well, but, Guss, come, we have always been friends; don't let us -quarrel just when you are going to be married.' But Augusta would make -no promise. - -Frank, when he reached the house, found the countess waiting for him, -sitting in the little drawing-room by herself,--somewhat impatiently. -As he entered he became aware that there was some peculiar gravity -attached to the coming interview. Three persons, his mother, one of -his younger sisters, and the Lady Amelia, each stopped him to let him -know that the countess was waiting; and he perceived that a sort of -guard was kept upon the door to save her ladyship from any undesirable -intrusion. - -The countess frowned at the moment of his entrance, but soon smoothed -her brow, and invited him to take a chair ready prepared for him -opposite to the elbow of the sofa on which she was leaning. She had a -small table before her, on which was her teacup, so that she was able -to preach at him nearly as well as though she had been ensconced in a -pulpit. - -'My dear Frank,' said she, in a voice thoroughly suitable to the -importance of the communication, 'you have to-day come of age.' - -Frank remarked that he understood that such was the case, and added -that 'that was the reason for all the fuss.' - -'Yes; you have to-day come of age. Perhaps I should have been glad to -see such an occasion noticed at Greshamsbury with some more suitable -signs of rejoicing.' - -'Oh, aunt! I think we did it all very well.' - -'Greshamsbury, Frank, is, or at any rate ought to be, the seat of the -first commoner in Barsetshire. - -'Well; so it is. I am quite sure there isn't a better fellow than -father anywhere in the county.' - -The countess sighed. Her opinion of the poor squire was very different -from Frank's. 'It is no use now,' said she, 'looking back to that -which cannot be cured. The first commoner in Barsetshire should hold a -position--I will not of course say equal to that of a peer.' - -'Oh dear no; of course not,' said Frank; and a bystander might have -thought that there was a touch of satire in his tone. - -'No, not equal to that of a peer; but still of very paramount -importance. Of course my first ambition is bound up in Porlock.' - -'Of course,' said Frank, thinking how very weak was the staff on which -his aunt's ambition rested; for Lord Porlock's youthful career had not -been such as to give unmitigated satisfaction to his parents. - -'Is bound up in Porlock:' and then the countess plumed herself; but the -mother sighed. 'And next to Porlock, my anxiety is about you.' - -'Upon my honour, aunt, I am very much obliged. I shall be all right, -you know.' - -'Greshamsbury, my dear boy, is not now what it used to be.' - -'Isn't it?' asked Frank. - -'No, Frank; by no means. I do not wish to say a word against your -father. It may, perhaps have been his misfortune, rather than his -fault--' - -'She is always down on the governor; always,' said Frank to himself; -resolving to stick bravely to the side of the house to which he had -elected to belong. - -'But there is the fact, Frank, too plain to us all; Greshamsbury is not -what it was. It is your duty to restore it to its former importance.' - -'My duty!' said Frank, rather puzzled. - -'Yes, Frank, your duty. It all depends on you now. Of course you know -that your father owes a great deal of money.' - -Frank muttered something. Tidings had in some shape reached his ear -that his father was not comfortably circumstances as regards money. - -'And then, he has sold Boxall Hill. It cannot be expected that Boxall -Hill shall be purchased, as some horrid man, a railway-maker, I -believe--' - -'Yes; that's Scatcherd.' - -'Well, he has built a house there, I'm told; so I presume that it -cannot be bought back: but it will be your duty, Frank, to pay all the -debts that there are on the property, and to purchase what, at any -rate, will be equal to Boxall Hill.' - -Frank opened his eyes wide and stared at his aunt, as though doubting -much whether or no she were in her right mind. He pay off the family -debts! He buy up property of four thousand pounds a year! He -remained, however, quite quiet, waiting the elucidation of the mystery. - -'Frank, of course you understand me.' - -Frank was obliged to declare, that just at the present moment he did -not find his aunt so clear as usual. - -'You have but one line of conduct left you, Frank: your position, as -heir to Greshamsbury, is a good one; but your father has unfortunately -so hampered you with regard to money, that unless you set the matter -right yourself, you can never enjoy that position. Of course you must -marry money.' - -'Marry money!' said he, considering for the first time that in all -probability Mary Thorne's fortune would not be extensive. 'Marry -money!' - -'Yes, Frank. I know no man whose position so imperatively demands it; -and luckily for you, no man can have more facility for doing so. In -the first place you are very handsome.' - -Frank blushed like a girl of sixteen. - -'And then, as the matter is made plain to you at so early an age, you -are not of course hampered by any indiscreet tie; by any absurd -engagement.' - -Frank blushed again; and then saying to himself, 'How much the old girl -knows about it!' felt a little proud of his passion for Mary Thorne, -and of the declaration he had made to her. - -'And your connexion with Courcy Castle,' continued the countess, now -carrying up the list of Frank's advantages to its greatest climax, -'will make the matter so easy for you, that really, you will hardly -have any difficulty.' - -Frank could not but say how much obliged he felt to Courcy Castle and -its inmates. - -'Of course I would not wish to interfere with you in any underhand way, -Frank; but I will tell you what has occurred to me. You have heard, -probably, of Miss Dunstable?' - -'The daughter of the ointment of Lebanon man?' - -'And of course you know that her fortune is immense,' continued the -countess, not deigning to notice her nephew's allusion to the -ointment. 'Quite immense when compared with the wants and any position -of any commoner. Now she is coming to Courcy Castle, and I wish you to -come and meet her.' - -'But, aunt, just at this moment I have to read for my degree like -anything. I go up, you know, to Oxford.' - -'Degree!' said the countess. 'Why, Frank, I am talking to you of your -prospects in life, of your future position, of that on which everything -hangs, and you tell me of your degree!' - -Frank, however, obstinately persisted that he must take his degree, and -that he should commence reading hard at six a.m. tomorrow morning. - -'You can read just as well at Courcy Castle. Miss Dunstable will not -interfere with that,' said his aunt, who knew the expediency of -yielding occasionally; 'but I must beg you will come over and meet -her. You will find her a most charming young woman, remarkably well -educated I am told, and--' - -'How old is she?' asked Frank. - -'I really cannot say exactly,' said the countess; 'but it is not, I -imagine, a matter of much moment.' - -'Is she thirty?' asked Frank, who looked upon an unmarried woman of -that age as quite an old maid. - -'I dare say she may be about that age,' said the countess, who regarded -the subject from a very different point of view. - -'Thirty!' said Frank out loud, but speaking, nevertheless as though to -himself. - -'It is a matter of no moment,' said his aunt, almost angrily. 'When a -subject itself is of such vital importance, objections of no real -weight should not be brought into view. If you wish to hold up your -head in the country; if you wish to represent your county in -Parliament, as has been done by your father, your grandfather, and your -great-grandfathers; if you wish to keep a house over your head, and to -leave Greshamsbury to your son after you, you must marry money. What -does it signify whether Miss Dunstable be twenty-eight or thirty? She -has got money; and if you marry her, you may then consider that your -position in life is made.' - -Frank was astonished at his aunt's eloquence; but, in spite of that -eloquence, he made up his mind that he would not marry Miss Dunstable. -How could he, indeed, seeing that his troth was already plighted to -Mary Thorne in the presence of his sister? This circumstance, however, -he did not choose to plead to his aunt, so he recapitulated any other -objections that presented themselves to his mind. - -In the first place, he was so anxious about his degree that he could -not think of marrying at present; then he suggested that it might be -better to postpone the question till the season's hunting should be -over; he declared that he could not visit Courcy Castle till he got a -new suit of clothes home from the tailor; and ultimately remembered -that he had a particular engagement to go fly-fishing with Mr Oriel on -that day week. - -None, however, of these valid reasons were sufficiently potent to turn -the countess from her point. - -'Nonsense, Frank,' said she, 'I wonder that you can talk of fly-fishing -when the property of Greshamsbury is at stake. You will go with -Augusta and myself to Courcy Castle to-morrow.' - -'To-morrow, aunt!' he said, in the tone which a condemned criminal -might make his ejaculation on hearing that a very near day had been -named for his execution. 'To-morrow!' - -'Yes, we return to-morrow, and shall be happy to have your company. My -friends, including Miss Dunstable, come on Thursday. I am quite sure -you will like Miss Dunstable. I have settled all that with your -mother, so we need say nothing further about it. And now, good-night, -Frank.' - -Frank, finding that there was nothing more to be said, took his -departure, and went out to look for Mary. But Mary had gone home with -Janet half an hour since, so he betook himself to his sister Beatrice. - -'Beatrice,' said he, 'I am to go to Courcy Castle to-morrow.' - -'So I heard mamma say.' - -'Well; I only came of age to-day, and I will not begin by running -counter to them. But I tell you what, I won't stay above a week at -Courcy Castle for all the De Courcys in Barsetshire. Tell me, -Beatrice, did you ever hear of a Miss Dunstable?' - - - -CHAPTER IX - -SIR ROGER SCATCHERD - -Enough has been said in this narrative to explain to the reader that -Roger Scatcherd, who was whilom a drunken stone-mason in Barchester, -and who had been so prompt to avenge the injury done to his sister, had -become a great man in the world. He had become a contractor, first for -little things, such as half a mile or so of a railway embankment, or -three or four canal bridges, and then a contractor for great things, -such as Government hospitals, locks, docks, and quays, and had latterly -had in his hands the making of whole lines of railway. - -He had been occasionally in partnership with one man for one thing, and -then with another for another; but had, on the whole, kept his -interests to himself, and now at the time of our story, he was a very -rich man. - -And he had acquired more than wealth. There had been a time when the -Government wanted the immediate performance of some extraordinary piece -of work, and Roger Scatcherd had been the man to do it. There had been -some extremely necessary bit of a railway to be made in half the time -that such work would properly demand, some speculation to be incurred -requiring great means and courage as well, and Roger Scatcherd had been -found to be the man for the time. He was then elevated for the moment -to the dizzy pinnacle of a newspaper hero, and became one of those -'whom the king delighteth to honour'. He went up one day to kiss Her -Majesty's hand, and come down to his new grand house at Boxall Hill, -Sir Roger Scatcherd, Bart. - -'And now, my lady,' said he, when he explained to his wife the high -state to which she had been called by his exertions and the Queen's -prerogative, 'let's have a bit of dinner, and a drop of som'at hot.' -Now the drop of som'at hot signified a dose of alcohol sufficient to -send three ordinary men very drunk to bed. - -While conquering the world Roger Scatcherd had not conquered his old -bad habits. Indeed, he was the same man at all points that he had been -when formerly seen about the streets of Barchester with his -stone-mason's apron tucked up round his waist. The apron he had -abandoned, but not the heavy prominent thoughtful brow, with the wildly -flashing eye beneath it. He was still the same good companion, and -still also the same hard-working hero. In this only had he changed, -that now he would work, and some said equally well, whether he were -drunk or sober. Those who were mostly inclined to make a miracle of -him--and there was a school of worshippers ready to adore him as their -idea of a divine, superhuman, miracle-moving, inspired prophet--declared -that his wondrous work was best done, his calculations most quickly and -most truly made, that he saw with most accurate eye into the -far-distant balance of profit and loss, when he was under the influence -of the rosy god. To these worshippers his breakings-out, as his -periods of intemperance were called in his own set, were his moments of -peculiar inspiration--his divine frenzies, in which he communicated most -closely with those deities who preside over trade transactions; his -Eleusinian mysteries, to approach him in which was permitted only a few -of the most favoured. - -'Scatcherd has been drunk this week past,' they would say one to -another, when the moment came at which it was to be decided whose offer -should be accepted for constructing a harbour to hold all the commerce -of Lancashire, or to make a railway from Bombay to Canton. 'Scatcherd -has been drunk this week past; I am told that he has taken over three -gallons of brandy.' And then they felt sure that none but Scatcherd -would be called upon to construct the dock or make the railway. - -But be this as it may, be it true or false that Sir Roger was most -efficacious when in his cups, there can be no doubt that he could not -wallow for a week in brandy, six or seven times every year, without in -a great measure injuring, and permanently injuring, the outward man. -Whatever immediate effect such symposiums might have on the inner mind- -symposiums indeed they were not; posiums I will call them, if I may be -allowed; for in latter life, when he drank heavily, he drank -alone--however little for evil, or however much for good the working of -his brain might be affected, his body suffered greatly. It was not -that he became feeble or emaciated, old-looking or inactive, that his -hand shook, or that his eye was watery; but that in the moments of his -intemperance his life was often worth a day's purchase. The frame -which God had given to him was powerful beyond the power of ordinary -men; powerful to act in spite of these violent perturbations; powerful -to repress and conquer the qualms and headaches and inward sicknesses -to which the votaries of Bacchus are ordinarily subject; but this power -was not without its limit. If encroached on too far, it would break and -fall and come asunder, and then the strong man would at once become a -corpse. - -Scatcherd had but one friend in the world. And, indeed, this friend -was not friend in the ordinary acceptance of the word. He neither ate -with him nor drank with him, nor even frequently talked with him. Their -pursuits in life were wide asunder. Their tastes were all different. -The society in which they moved very seldom came together. Scatcherd -had nothing in unison with this solitary friend; but he trusted him, -and he trusted no other living creature in God's earth. - -He trusted this man; but even him he did not trust thoroughly; not at -least as one friend should trust another. He believed that this man -would not rob him; would probably not lie to him; would not endeavour -to make money of him; would not count him up or speculate on him, and -make out a balance of profit and loss; and, therefore, he determined to -use him. But he put no trust whatever in his friend's counsel, in his -modes of thought; none in his theory, and none in his practice. He -disliked his friend's counsel, and, in fact, disliked his society, for -his friend was somewhat apt to speak to him in a manner approaching to -severity. Now Roger Scatcherd had done many things in the world, and -made much money; whereas his friend had done but few things, and made -no money. It was not to be endured that the practical, efficient man -should be taken to task by the man who proved himself to be neither -practical nor efficient; not to be endured, certainly, by Roger -Scatcherd, who looked on men of his own class as the men of the day, -and on himself as by no means the least among them. - -The friend was our friend Dr Thorne. - -The doctor's first acquaintance with Scatcherd has been already -explained. He was necessarily thrown into communication with the man -at the time of the trial, and Scatcherd then had not only sufficient -sense, but sufficient feeling also to know that the doctor behaved very -well. This communication had in different ways been kept up between -them. Soon after the trial Scatcherd had begun to rise, and his first -savings had been entrusted to the doctor's care. This had been the -beginning of a pecuniary connexion which had never wholly ceased, and -which had led to the purchase of Boxall Hill, and to the loan of large -sums of money to the squire. - -In another way also there had been a close alliance between them, and -one not always of a very pleasant description. The doctor was, and -long had been, Sir Roger's medical attendant, and, in his unceasing -attempts to rescue the drunkard from the fate which was so much to be -dreaded, he not unfrequently was driven to quarrel with his patient. - -One thing further must be told of Sir Roger. In politics he was as -violent a Radical as ever, and was very anxious to obtain a position in -which he could bring his violence to bear. With this view he was about -to contest his native borough of Barchester, in the hope of being -returned in opposition to the De Courcy candidate; and with this object -he had now come down to Boxall Hill. - -Nor were his claims to sit for Barchester such as could be despised. If -money were to be of no avail, he had plenty of it, and was prepared to -spend it; whereas, rumour said that Mr Moffat was equally determined to -do nothing so foolish. Then again, Sir Roger had a sort of rough -eloquence, and was bold to address the men of Barchester in language -that would come home to their hearts, in words that would endear him to -one party while they made him offensively odious to the other; but Mr -Moffat could make neither friends nor enemies by his eloquence. The -Barchester roughs called him a dumb dog that could not bark, and -sometimes sarcastically added that neither could he bite. The De -Courcy interest, however, was at his back, and he had also the -advantage of possession. Sir Roger, therefore, knew that the battle -was not to be won without a struggle. - -Dr Thorne got safely back from Silverbridge that evening, and found -Mary waiting to give him his tea. He had been called there to a -consultation with Dr Century, that amiable old gentleman having so far -fallen away from the high Fillgrave tenets as to consent to the -occasional endurance of such degradation. - -The next morning he breakfasted early, and, having mounted his strong -iron-grey cob, started for Boxall Hill. Not only had he there to -negotiate the squire's further loan, but also to exercise his medical -skill. Sir Roger having been declared contractor for cutting a canal -from sea to sea, through the isthmus of Panama, had been making a week -of it; and the result was that Lady Scatcherd had written rather -peremptorily to her husband's medical friend. - -The doctor consequently trotted off to Boxall Hill on his iron-grey -cob. Among his other merits was that of being a good horseman, and he -did much of his work on horseback. The fact that he occasionally took -a day with the East Barsetshires, and that when he did so he thoroughly -enjoyed it, had probably not failed to add something to the strength of -the squire's friendship. - -'Well, my lady, how is he? Not much the matter, I hope?' said the -doctor, as he shook hands with the titled mistress of Boxall Hill in a -small breakfast-parlour in the rear of the house. The showrooms of -Boxall Hill were furnished most magnificently, but they were set apart -for company; and as the company never came--seeing that they were never -invited--the grand rooms and the grand furniture were not of much -material use to Lady Scatcherd. - -'Indeed then, doctor, he's just bad enough,' said her ladyship, not in -a very happy tone of voice; 'just bad enough. There's been some'at the -back of his head, rapping, and rapping, and rapping; and if you don't -do something, I'm thinking it will rap him too hard yet.' - -'Is he in bed?' - -'Why, yes, he is in bed; for when he was first took he couldn't very -well help hisself, so we put him to bed. And then, he don't seem to be -quite right yet about the legs, so he hasn't got up; but he's got that -Winterbones with him to write for him, and when Winterbones is there, -Scatcherd might as well be up for any good that bed'll do him.' - -Mr Winterbones was confidential clerk to Sir Roger. That is to say, he -was a writing-machine of which Sir Roger made use to do certain work -which could not well be adjusted without some contrivance. He was a -little, withered, dissipated, broken-down man, whom gin and poverty had -nearly burnt to a cinder, and dried to an ash. Mind he had none left, -nor care for earthly things, except the smallest modicum of substantial -food, and the largest allowance of liquid sustenance. All that he had -ever known he had forgotten, except how to count up figures and to -write: the results of his counting and his writing never stayed with -him from one hour to another; nay, not from one folio to another. Let -him, however, be adequately screwed up with gin, and adequately screwed -down by the presence of his master, and then no amount of counting and -writing would be too much for him. This was Mr Winterbones, -confidential clerk to the great Sir Roger Scatcherd. - -'We must send Winterbones away, I take it,' said the doctor. - -'Indeed, doctor, I wish you would. I wish you'd send him to Bath, or -anywhere else out of the way. There is Scatcherd, he takes brandy; and -there is Winterbones, he takes gin; and it'd puzzle a woman to say -which is worst, master or man.' - -It will seem from this, that Lady Scatcherd and the doctor were on very -familiar terms as regarded her little domestic inconveniences. - -'Tell Sir Roger I am here, will you?' said the doctor. - -'You'll take a drop of sherry before you go up?' said the lady. - -'Not a drop, thank you,' said the doctor. - -'Or, perhaps a little cordial?' - -'Not of drop of anything, thank you; I never do, you know.' - -'Just a thimbleful of this?' said the lady, producing from some recess -under a sideboard a bottle of brandy; 'just a thimbleful? It's what he -takes himself.' - -When Lady Scatcherd found that even this argument failed, she led the -way to the great man's bedroom. - -'Well doctor! well doctor!, well, doctor!' was the greeting with which -our son of Galen was saluted some time before he entered the -sick-room. His approaching step was heard, and thus the ci-devant -Barchester stone-mason saluted his coming friend. The voice was loud -and powerful, but not clear and sonorous. What voice that is nurtured -on brandy can ever be clear? It had about it a peculiar huskiness, a -dissipated guttural tone, which Thorne immediately recognized, and -recognized as being more marked, more guttural, and more husky than -heretofore. - -'So you've smelt me out, have you, and come for your fee? Ha! ha! ha! -Well, I have had a sharpish bout of it, as her ladyship there no doubt -has told you. Let her alone to make the worst of it. But, you see, -you're too late, man. I've bilked the old gentleman again without -troubling you.' - -'Anyway, I'm glad you're something better, Scatcherd.' - -'Something! I don't know what you call something. I never was better -in my life. Ask Winterbones here.' - -'Indeed, now, Scatcherd, you ain't; you're bad enough if you only knew -it. And as for Winterbones, he has no business here up in your -bedroom, which stinks of gin so, it does. Don't you believe him, -doctor; he ain't well, nor yet nigh well.' - -Winterbones, when the above ill-natured allusion was made to the aroma -coming from his libations, might be seen to deposit surreptitiously -beneath the little table at which he sat, the cup with which he had -performed them. - -The doctor, in the meantime, had taken Sir Roger's hand on the pretext -of feeling his pulse, but was drawing quite as much information from -the touch of the sick man's skin, and the look of the sick man's eye. - -'I think Mr Winterbones had better go back to the London office,' said -he. 'Lady Scatcherd will be your best clerk for some time, Sir Roger.' - -'Then I'll be d--- if Mr Winterbones does anything of the kind,' said -he; 'so there's an end of that.' - -'Very well,' said the doctor. 'A man can die but once. It is my duty -to suggest measures for putting off the ceremony as long as possible. -Perhaps, however, you may wish to hasten it.' - -'Well, I am not anxious about it, one way or the other,' said -Scatcherd. And as he spoke there came a fierce gleam from his eye, -which seemed to say--'If that's the bugbear with which you wish to -frighten me, you will be mistaken.' - -'Now, doctor, don't let him talk that way, don't,' said Lady Scatcherd, -with her handkerchief to her eyes. - -'Now, my lady, do you cut it; cut at once,' said Sir Roger, turning -hastily round to his better-half; and his better-half, knowing that -the province of a woman is to obey, did cut it. But as she went she -gave the doctor a pull by the coat's sleeve, so that thereby his -healing faculties might be sharpened to the very utmost. - -'The best woman in the world, doctor; the very best,' said he, as the -door closed behind the wife of his bosom. - -'I'm sure of it,' said the doctor. - -'Yes, till you find a better one,' said Scatcherd. 'Ha! ha! ha! but -for good or bad, there are some things which a woman can't understand, -and some things which she ought not to be let to understand.' - -'It's natural she should be anxious about your health, you know.' - -'I don't know that,' said the contractor. 'She'll be very well off. -All that whining won't keep a man alive, at any rate.' - -There was a pause, during which the doctor continued his medical -examination. To this the patient submitted with a bad grace; but still -he did submit. - -'We must turn over a new leaf, Sir Roger; indeed we must.' - -'Bother,' said Sir Roger. - -'Well, Scatcherd; I must do my duty to you, whether you like it or -not.' - -'That is to say, I am to pay you for trying to frighten me.' - -'No human nature can stand such shocks as those much longer.' - -'Winterbones,' said the contractor, turning to his clerk, 'go down, go -down, I say; but don't be out of the way. If you go to the -public-house, by G-- you may stay there for me. When I take a -drop,--that is if I ever do, it does not stand in the way of work.' So -Mr Winterbones, picking up his cup again, and concealing it in some way -beneath his coat flap, retreated out of the room, and the two friends -were alone. - -'Scatcherd,' said the doctor, 'you have been as near your God, as any -man ever was who afterwards ate and drank in this world.' - -'Have I, now?' said the railway here, apparently somewhat startled. - -'Indeed you have; indeed you have.' - -'And now I'm all right again?' - -'All right! How can you be all right, when you know that your limbs -refuse to carry you? All right! why the blood is still beating round -you brain with a violence that would destroy any other brain but -yours.' - -'Ha! ha! ha!,' laughed Scatcherd. He was very proud of thinking -himself to be differently organized from other men. 'Ha! ha! ha! Well -and what am I to do now?' - -The whole of the doctor's prescription we will not give at length. To -some of his ordinances Sir Roger promised obedience; to others he -objected violently, and to one or two he flatly refused to listen. The -great stumbling-block was this, that total abstinence from business for -two weeks was enjoined; and that it was impossible, so Sir Roger said, -that he should abstain for two days. - -'If you work,' said the doctor, 'in your present state, you will -certainly have recourse to the stimulus of drink; and if you drink, -most assuredly will die.' - -'Stimulus! Why do you think I can't work without Dutch courage?' - -'Scatcherd, I know that there is brandy in this room at the moment, and -that you have been taking it within these two hours.' - -'You smell that fellow's gin,' said Scatcherd. - -'I feel the alcohol working within your veins,' said the doctor, who -still had his hand on his patient's arm. - -Sir Roger turned himself roughly in the bed so as to get away from his -Mentor, and then he began to threaten in his turn. - -'I'll tell you what it is, doctor; I've made up my mind, and I'll do -it. I'll send for Fillgrave.' - -'Very well,' said he of Greshamsbury, 'send for Fillgrave. Your case -is one in which even he can hardly go wrong.' - -'You think you can hector me, and do as you like because you had me -under your thumb in other days. You're a very good fellow, Thorne, but -I ain't sure that you are the best doctor in all England.' - -'You may be sure I am not; you may take me for the worst if you will. -But while I am here as your medical adviser, I can only tell you the -truth to the best of my thinking. Now the truth is, that another bout -of drinking will in all probability kill you; and any recourse to -stimulus in your present condition may do so.' - -'I'll send for Fillgrave--' - -'Well, send for Fillgrave, only do it at once. Believe me at any rate -in this, that whatever you do, you should do at once. Oblige me in -this; let Lady Scatcherd take away that brandy bottle till Dr Fillgrave -comes.' - -'I'm d--- if I do. Do you think I can't have a bottle of brandy in my -room without swigging?' - -'I think you'll be less likely to swig if you can't get at it.' - -Sir Roger made another angry turn in his bed as well as his -half-paralysed limbs would let him; and then, after a few moments' -peace, renewed his threats with increased violence. - -'Yes; I'll have Fillgrave over here. If a man be ill, really ill, he -should have the best advice he can get. I'll have Fillgrave, and I'll -have that other fellow from Silverbridge to meet him. What's his -name?--Century.' - -The doctor turned his head away; for though the occasion was serious, -he could not help smiling at the malicious vengeance with which his -friend proposed to gratify himself. - -'I will; and Rerechild too. What's the expense? I suppose five or six -pounds apiece will do it; eh, Thorne?' - -'Oh, yes; that will be liberal I should say. But, Sir Roger, will you -allow me to suggest what you ought to do? I don't know how far you may -be joking--' - -'Joking!' shouted the baronet; 'you tell a man he's dying and joking in -the same breath. You'll find I'm not joking.' - -'Well I dare say not. But if you have not full confidence in me--' - -'I have no confidence in you at all.' - -'Then why not send to London? Expense is no object to you.' - -'It is an object; a great object.' - -'Nonsense! Send to London for Sir Omicron Pie: send for some man whom -you will really trust when you see him. - -'There's not one of the lot I'd trust as soon as Fillgrave. I've known -Fillgrave all my life and I trust him. I'll send for Fillgrave and put -my case in his hands. If any one can do anything for me, Fillgrave is -the man.' - -'Then in God's name send for Fillgrave,' said the doctor. 'And now, -good-bye, Scatcherd; and as you do send for him, give him a fair -chance. Do not destroy yourself by more brandy before he comes.' - -'That's my affair, and his; not yours,' said the patient. - -'So be it; give me your hand, at any rate, before I go. I wish you -well through it, and when you are well, I'll come and see you.' - -'Good-bye--good-bye; and look here, Thorne, you'll be talking to Lady -Scatcherd downstairs I know; now, no nonsense. You understand me, eh? -no nonsense.' - - - -CHAPTER X - -SIR ROGER'S WILL - -Dr Thorne left the room and went downstairs, being fully aware that he -could not leave the house without having some communication with Lady -Scatcherd. He was not sooner within the passage than he heard the sick -man's bell ring violently; and then the servant, passing him on the -staircase, received orders to send a mounted messenger immediately to -Barchester. Dr Fillgrave was to be summoned to come as quickly as -possible to the sick man's room, and Mr Winterbones was to be sent up -to write the note. - -Sir Roger was quite right in supposing that there would be some words -between the doctor and her ladyship. How, indeed, was the doctor to -get out of the house without such, let him wish it ever so much? There -were words; and these were protracted, while the doctor's cob was being -ordered round, till very many were uttered which the contractor would -probably have regarded as nonsense. - -Lady Scatcherd was no fit associate for the wives of English -baronets;--was no doubt by education and manners much better fitted to -sit in their servants' halls; but not on that account was she a bad -wife or a bad woman. She was painfully, fearfully, anxious for that -husband of hers, whom she honoured and worshipped, as it behoved her to -do, above all other men. She was fearfully anxious as to his life, and -faithfully believed, that if any man could prolong it, it was that old -and faithful friend whom she had known to be true to her lord since -their early married troubles. - -When, therefore, she found that she had been dismissed, and that a -stranger was to be sent for in his place, her heart sank below within -her. - -'But, doctor,' she said, with her apron up to her eyes, 'you ain't -going to leave him, are you?' - -Dr Thorne did not find it easy to explain to her ladyship that medical -etiquette would not permit him to remain in attendance on her husband -after he had been dismissed and another physician called in his place. - -'Etiquette!' said she, crying. 'What's etiquette to do with it when a -man is a-killing hisself with brandy?' - -'Fillgrave will forbid that quite as strongly as I can do.' - -'Fillgrave!' said she. 'Fiddlesticks! Fillgrave, indeed!' - -Dr Thorne could almost have embraced her for the strong feeling of -thorough confidence on the one side, and thorough distrust on the -other, which she contrived to throw into those few words. - -'I'll tell you what, doctor; I won't let that messenger go. I'll bear -the brunt of it. He can't do much now he ain't up, you know. I'll -stop the boy; we won't have no Fillgrave here.' - -This, however, was a step to which Dr Thorne would not assent. He -endeavoured to explain to the anxious wife, that after what had passed -he could not tender his medical services till they were again asked -for. - -'But you can slip in as a friend, you know; and then by degrees you can -come round him, eh? can't you now, doctor? And as to payment--' - -All that Dr Thorne said on the subject may easily be imagined. And in -this way, and in partaking of the lunch which was forced upon him, an -hour had nearly passed between his leaving Sir Roger's bedroom and -putting his foot in the stirrup. But no sooner had the cob begun to -move on the gravel-sweep before the house than one of the upper windows -opened, and the doctor was summoned to another conference with the sick -man. - -'He says you are to come back, whether or no,' said Mr Winterbones, -screeching out of the window, and putting all his emphasis on the last -words. - -'Thorne! Thorne! Thorne!' shouted the sick man from his sick-bed, so -loudly that the doctor heard him, seated as he was on horseback out -before the house. - -'You're to come back, whether or no,' repeated Winterbones, with more -emphasis, evidently conceiving that there was a strength of injunction -in that 'whether or no' which would be found quite invincible. - -Whether actuated by these magic words, or by some internal process of -thought, we will not say; but the doctor did slowly, and as though -unwillingly, dismount again from his steed, and slowly retrace his -steps into the house. - -'It is no use,' he said to himself, 'for that messenger has already -gone to Barchester.' - -'I have sent for Dr Fillgrave,' were the first words which the -contractor said to him when he again found himself by the bedside. - -'Did you call me back to tell me that?' said Thorne, who now felt -really angry at the impertinent petulance of the man before him: 'you -should consider, Scatcherd, that my time may be of value to others, if -not to you.' - -'Now don't be angry, old fellow,' said Scatcherd, turning to him, and -looking at him with a countenance quite different from any that he had -shown that day; a countenance in which there was a show of -manhood,--some show also of affection. 'You ain't angry now because -I've sent for Fillgrave?' - -'Not in the least,' said the doctor very complacently. 'Not in the -least. Fillgrave will do as much good as I can do.' - -'And that's none at all, I suppose; eh, Thorne?' - -'That depends on yourself. He will do you good if you will tell him -the truth, and will then be guided by him. Your wife, your servant, -any one can be as good a doctor to you as either he or I; as good, that -is, in the main point. But you have sent for Fillgrave now; and of -course you must see him. I have much to do, and you must let me go.' - -Scatcherd, however, would not let him go, but held his hand fast. -'Thorne,' said he, 'if you like it, I'll make them put Fillgrave under -the pump directly he comes here. I will indeed, and pay all the damage -myself.' - -This was another proposition to which the doctor could not consent; but -he was utterly unable to refrain from laughing. There was an earnest -look of entreaty about Sir Roger's face as he made the suggestion; and, -joined to this, there was a gleam of comic satisfaction in his eye -which seemed to promise, that if he received the least encouragement he -would put his threat into execution. Now our doctor was not inclined -to taking any steps towards subjecting his learned brother to pump -discipline; but he could not but admit to himself that the idea was not -a bad one. - -'I'll have it done, I will, by heavens! if you'll only say the word,' -protested Sir Roger. - -But the doctor did not say the word, and so the idea was passed off. - -'You shouldn't be so testy with a man when he is ill,' said Scatcherd, -still holding the doctor's hand, of which he had again got possession; -'specially not an old friend; and specially again when you're been -a-blowing him up.' - -It was not worth the doctor's while to aver that the testiness had all -been on the other side, and that he had never lost his good-humour; so -he merely smiled, and asked Sir Roger if he could do anything further -for him. - -'Indeed you can, doctor; and that's why I sent for you,--why I sent for -you yesterday. Get out of the room, Winterbones,' he then said -gruffly, as though he were dismissing from his chamber a dirty dog. -Winterbones, not a whit offended, again hid his cup under his coat-tail -and vanished. - -'Sit down, Thorne, sit down,' said the contractor, speaking in quite a -different manner from any that he had yet assumed. 'I know you're in a -hurry, but you must give me half an hour. I may be dead before you can -give me another; who knows?' - -The doctor of course declared that he hoped to have many a half-hour's -chat with him for many a year to come. - -'Well, that's as may be. You must stop now, at any rate. You can make -the cob pay for it, you know.' - -The doctor took a chair and sat down. Thus entreated to stop, he had -hardly any alternative but to do so. - -'It wasn't because I'm ill that I sent for you, or rather let her -ladyship send for you. Lord bless you, Thorne; do you think I don't -know what it is that makes me like this? When I see that poor wretch -Winterbones, killing himself with gin, do you think I don't know what's -coming to myself as well as him? - -'Why do you take it then? Why do you do it? Your life is not like -his. Oh, Scatcherd! Scatcherd!' and the doctor prepared to pour out -the flood of his eloquence in beseeching this singular man to abstain -from his well-known poison. - -'Is that all you know of human nature, doctor? Abstain. Can you -abstain from breathing, and live like a fish does under water?' - -'But Nature has not ordered you to drink, Scatcherd.' - -'Habit is second nature, man; and a stronger nature than the first. And -why should I not drink? What else has the world given me for all that -I have done for it? What other resource have I? What other -gratification?' - -'Oh, my God! Have you not unbounded wealth? Can you not do anything -you wish? be anything you choose?' - -'No,' and the sick man shrieked with an energy that made him audible -all through the house. 'I can do nothing that I would choose to do; be -nothing that I would wish to be! What can I do? What can I be? What -gratification can I have except the brandy bottle? If I go among -gentlemen, can I talk to them? If they have anything to say about a -railway, they will ask me a question: if they speak to me beyond that, -I must be dumb. If I go among my workmen, can they talk to me? No; I -am their master, and a stern master. They bob their heads and shake in -their shoes when they see me. Where are my friends? Here!' said he, -and he dragged a bottle from under his very pillow. 'Where are my -amusements? Here!' and he brandished the bottle almost in the doctor's -face. 'Where is my one resource, my one gratification, my only comfort -after all my toils. Here, doctor; here, here, here!' and, so saying, -he replaced his treasure beneath his pillow. - -There was something so horrifying in this, that Dr Thorne shrank back -amazed, and was for a moment unable to speak. - -'But, Scatcherd,' he said at last; 'surely you would not die for such a -passion as that?' 'Die for it? Aye, would I. Live for it while I can -live; and die for it when I can live no longer. Die for it! What is -that for a man to do? What is a man the worse for dying? What can I be -the worse for dying? A man can die but once, you said just now. I'd -die ten times for this.' - -'You are speaking now either in madness, or else in folly, to startle -me.' - -'Folly enough, perhaps, and madness enough, also. Such a life as mine -makes a man a fool, and makes him mad too. What have about me that I -should be afraid to die? I'm worth three hundred thousand pounds; and -I'd give it all to be able to go to work to-morrow with a hod and -mortar, and have a fellow clap his hand upon my shoulder, and say: -"Well, Roger, shall us have that 'ere other half-pint this morning?" -I'll tell you what, Thorne, when a man has made three hundred thousand -pounds, there's nothing left for him but to die. It's all he's good -for then. When money's been made, the next thing is to spend it. Now -the man who makes it has not the heart to do that.' - -The doctor, of course, in hearing all this, said something of a -tendency to comfort and console the mind of his patient. Not that -anything he could say would comfort or console the man; but that it was -impossible to sit there and hear such fearful truths--for as regarded -Scatcherd they were truths--without making some answer.' - -'This is as good as a play, isn't, doctor?' said the baronet. 'You -didn't know how I could come out like one of those actor fellows. Well, -now, come; at last I'll tell you why I have sent for you. Before that -last burst of mine I made my will.' - -'You had made a will before that.' - -'Yes, I had. That will is destroyed. I burnt it with my own hand, so -that there should be no mistake about it. In that will I had named two -executors, you and Jackson. I was then partner with Jackson in the -York and Yeovil Grand Central. I thought a deal of Jackson then. He's -not worth a shilling now.' - -'Well, I'm exactly in the same category.' - -'No, you're not. Jackson is nothing without money; but money'll never -make you.' - -'No, nor I shan't make money,' said the doctor. - -'No, you never will. Nevertheless, there's my other will, there, under -that desk there; and I've put you in as sole executor.' - -'You must alter that, Scatcherd; you must indeed; with three hundred -thousand pounds to be disposed of, the trust is far too much for any -one man: besides you must name a younger man; you and I are of the same -age, and I may die first.' - -'Now, doctor, no humbug; let's have no humbug from you. Remember this; -if you're not true, you're nothing.' - -'Well, but, Scatcherd--' - -'Well, but doctor, there's the will, it's already made. I don't want -to consult you about that. You are named as executor, and if you have -the heart to refuse to act when I'm dead, why, of course, you can do -so.' - -The doctor was not lawyer, and hardly knew whether he had any means of -extricating himself from this position in which his friend was -determined to place him. - -'You'll have to see that will carried out, Thorne. Now I'll tell you -what I have done.' - -'You're not going to tell me how you have disposed of your property?' - -'Not exactly; at least not all of it. One hundred thousand I've in -legacies, including, you know, what Lady Scatcherd will have.' - -'Have you not left the house to Lady Scatcherd?' - -'No; what the devil would she do with a house like this? She doesn't -know how to live in it now she has got it. I have provided for her; it -matters not how. The house and the estate, and the remainder of my -money I have left to Louis Philippe.' - -'What! two hundred thousand pounds?' said the doctor. - -'And why shouldn't I leave two hundred thousand pounds to my son, even -to my eldest son if I have more than one? Does not Mr Gresham leave -all his property to his heir? Why should not I make an eldest son as -well as Lord de Courcy or the Duke of Omnium? I suppose a railway -contractor ought not to be allowed an eldest son by Act of Parliament! -Won't my son have a title to keep up? And that's more than the -Greshams have among them.' - -The doctor explained away what he said as well as he could. He could -not explain that what he had really meant was this, that Sir Roger -Scatcherd's son was not a man fit to be trusted with the entire control -of an enormous fortune. - -Sir Roger Scatcherd had but one child; that child which had been born -in the days of his early troubles, and had been dismissed from his -mother's breast in order that the mother's milk might nourish the young -heir of Greshamsbury. The boy had grown up, but had become strong -neither in mind nor body. His father had determined to make a gentleman -of him, and had sent to Eton and Cambridge. But even this receipt, -generally as it is recognized, will not make a gentleman. It is hard, -indeed, to define what receipt will do so, though people do have in -their own minds some certain undefined, but yet tolerably correct ideas -on the subject. Be that as it may, two years at Eton, and three terms -at Cambridge, did not make a gentleman of Louis Philippe Scatcherd. - -Yes; he was christened Louis Philippe, after the King of the French. If -one wishes to look out in the world for royal nomenclature, to find -children who have been christened after kings and queens, or the uncles -and aunts of kings and queens, the search should be made in the -families of democrats. None have so servile a deference for the very -nail-parings of royalty; none feel so wondering an awe at the -exaltation of a crowned head; none are so anxious to secure themselves -some shred or fragment that has been consecrated by the royal touch. It -is the distance which they feel to exist between themselves, and the -throne which makes them covet the crumbs of majesty, the odds and ends -and chance splinters of royalty. - -There was nothing royal about Louis Philippe Scatcherd but his name. He -had now come to man's estate, and his father, finding the Cambridge -receipt to be inefficacious, had sent him abroad to travel with a -tutor. The doctor had from time to time heard tidings of this youth; -he knew that he had already shown symptoms of his father's vices, but -no symptoms of his father's talents; he knew that he had begun life by -being dissipated, without being generous; and that at the age of -twenty-one he had already suffered from delirium tremens. - -It was on this account that he had expressed disapprobation, rather -than surprise, when he heard that his father intended to bequeath the -bulk of his large fortune to the uncontrolled will of this unfortunate -boy. - -'I have toiled for my money hard, and I have a right to do as I like -with it. What other satisfaction can it give me?' - -The doctor assured him that he did not at all mean to dispute this. - -'Louis Philippe will do well enough, you'll find,' continued the -baronet, understanding what was passing within his companion's breast. -'Let a young fellow sow his wild oats while he is young, and he'll be -steady enough when he grows old.' - -'But what if he never lives to get through the sowing?' thought the -doctor to himself. 'What if the wild-oats operation is carried on in -so violent a manner as to leave no strength in the soil for the product -of a more valuable crop?' It was of no use saying this, however, so he -allowed Scatcherd to continue. - -'If I'd had a free fling when I was a youngster, I shouldn't have been -so fond of the brandy bottle now. But any way, my son shall be my -heir. I've had the gumption to make the money, but I haven't the -gumption to spend it. My son, however, shall be able to ruffle it with -the best of them. I'll go bail he shall hold his head higher than ever -young Gresham will be able to hold his. They are much of the same age, -as well I have cause to remember;--and so has her ladyship here.' - -Now the fact was, that Sir Roger Scatcherd felt in his heart no special -love for young Gresham; but with her ladyship it might almost be a -question whether she did not love the youth whom she had nursed almost -as well as that other one who was her own proper offspring. - -'And will you not put any check on thoughtless expenditure? If you live -ten or twenty years, as we hope you may, it will become unnecessary; -but in making a will, a man should always remember he may go off -suddenly.' - -'Especially if he goes to bed with a brandy bottle under his head; eh, -doctor? But, mind, that's a medical secret, you know; not a word of -that out of the bedroom.' - -Dr Thorne could but sigh. What could he say on such a subject to such -a man as this? - -'Yes, I have put a check on his expenditure. I will not let his daily -bread depend on any man; I have therefore let him five hundred a year -at his own disposal, from the day of my death. Let him make what ducks -and drakes of that he can.' - -'Five hundred a year is certainly not much,'said the doctor. - -'No; nor do I want to keep him to that. Let him have whatever he wants -if he sets about spending it properly. But the bulk of the -property--this estate of Boxall Hill, and the Greshamsbury mortgage, and -those other mortgages--I have tied up in this way: they shall be all his -at twenty-five; and up to that age it shall be in your power to give -him what he wants. If he shall die without children before he shall be -twenty-five years of age, they are all to go to Mary's eldest child.' - -Now Mary was Sir Roger's sister, the mother, therefore, of Miss Thorne, -and, consequently, the wife of the respectable ironmonger who went to -America, and the mother of a family there. - -'Mary's eldest child!' said the doctor, feeling that the perspiration -had nearly broken out on his forehead, and that he could hardly control -his feelings. 'Mary's eldest child! Scatcherd, you should be more -particular in your description, or you will leave your best legacy to -the lawyers.' - -'I don't know, and never heard the name of one of them.' - -'But do you mean a boy or a girl?' - -'They may be all girls for what I know, or all boys; besides, I don't -care which it is. A girl would probably do best with it. Only you'd -have to see that she married some decent fellow; you'd be her -guardian.' - -'Pooh, nonsense,' said the doctor. 'Louis will be five-and-twenty in -a year or two.' - -'In about four years.' - -'And for all that's come and gone yet, Scatcherd, you are not going to -leave us yourself quite so soon as all that.' - -'Not if I can help it; but that's as may be.' - -'The chances are ten to one that such a clause in your will will never -come to bear.' - -'Quite so, quite so. If I die, Louis Philippe won't, but I thought it -right to put in something to prevent his squandering it all before he -comes to his senses.' - -'Oh! quite right, quite right. I think I would have named a later age -than twenty-five.' - -'So would not I. Louis Philippe will be all right by that time. That's -my lookout. And now, doctor, you know my will; and if I die to-morrow, -you will know what I want you to do for me.' - -'You have merely said the eldest child, Scatcherd?' - -'That's all; give it here; and I'll read it to you.' - -'No; no; never mind. The eldest child! You should be more particular, -Scatcherd; you should, indeed. Consider what an enormous interest may -have to depend on those words.' - -'Why, what the devil could I say? I don't know their names; never even -heard them. But the eldest is the eldest, all the world over. Perhaps -I ought to say the youngest, seeing that I am only a railway -contractor.' - -Scatcherd began to think that the doctor might now as well go away and -leave him to the society of Winterbones and the brandy; but, much as -our friend had before expressed himself in a hurry, he now seemed -inclined to move very leisurely. He sat there by the bedside, resting -his hands on his knees and gazing unconsciously at the counterpane. At -last he gave a deep sigh, and then he said, 'Scatcherd, you must be -more particular in this. If I am to have anything to do with it, you -must, indeed, be more explicit.' - -'Why, how the deuce can I be more explicit? Isn't her eldest living -child plain enough, whether he be Jack, or she be Gill?' - -'What did your lawyer say to this, Scatcherd?' - -'Lawyer! You don't suppose I let my lawyer know what I was putting. -No; I got the form and the paper, and all that from him, and I did it -in another. It's all right enough. Though Winterbones wrote it, he -did it in such a way he did not know what he was writing.' - -The doctor sat a while longer, still looking at the counter-pane, and -then got up to depart. 'I'll see you again soon,' said he; 'to-morrow, -probably.' - -'To-morrow!' said Sir Roger, not at all understanding why Dr Thorne -should talk of returning so soon. 'To-morrow! why I ain't so bad as -that, man, am I? If you come so often as that you will ruin me.' - -'Oh, not as a medical man; not as that; but about this will, -Scatcherd. I must think if over; I must, indeed.' - -'You need not give yourself the least trouble in the world about my -will till I'm dead; not the least. And who knows--may be, I may be -settling your affairs yet; eh, doctor? looking after your niece when -you're dead and gone, and getting a husband for her, eh? Ha! ha! ha!' - -And then, without further speech, the doctor went his way. - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE DOCTOR DRINKS HIS TEA - -The doctor got on his cob and went his way, returning duly to -Greshamsbury. But, in truth, as he went he hardly knew whither he was -going, or what he was doing. Sir Roger had hinted that the cob would -be compelled to make up for lost time by extra exertion on the road; -but the cob had never been permitted to have his own way as to pace -more satisfactorily than on the present occasion. The doctor, indeed, -hardly knew that he was on horseback, so completely was he enveloped in -the cloud of his own thoughts. - -In the first place, that alternative which it had become him to put -before the baronet as one unlikely to occur--that of the speedy death of -both father and son--was one which he felt in his heart of hearts might -very probably come to pass. - -'The chances are ten to one that such a clause will never be brought to -bear.' This he had said partly to himself, so as to ease the thoughts -which came crowding on his brain; partly, also, in pity for the patient -and the father. But now that he thought the matter over, he felt that -there were no such odds. Were not the odds the other way? Was it not -almost probable that both these men might be gathered to their long -account within the next four years? One, the elder, was a strong man, -indeed; one who might yet live for years to come if he could but give -himself fair play. But then, he himself protested, and protested with -a truth too surely grounded, that fair play to himself was beyond his -own power to give. The other, the younger, had everything against -him. Not only was he a poor, puny creature, without physical strength, -one of whose life a friend could never feel sure under any -circumstances, but he also was already addicted to his father's vices; -he also was already killing himself with alcohol. - -And then, if these two men did die within the prescribed period, if -this clause of Sir Roger's will were brought to bear, it should become -his, Dr Thorne's, duty to see that clause carried out, how would he be -bound to act? That woman's eldest child was his own niece, his adopted -bairn, his darling, the pride of his heart, the cynosure of his eye, -his child also, his own Mary. Of all his duties on this earth, next to -that one great duty to his God and conscience, was his duty to her. -What, under these circumstances, did his duty to her require of him? - -But then, that one great duty, that duty which she would be the first -to expect from him; what did that demand of him? Had Scatcherd made -his will without saying what its clauses were, it seemed to Thorne that -Mary must have been the heiress, should that clause become necessarily -operative. Whether she were so or not would at any rate be for lawyers -to decide. But now the case was very different. This rich man had -confided in him, and would it not be a breach of confidence, an act of -absolute dishonesty--an act of dishonesty both to Scatcherd and to that -far-distant American family, to that father, who, in former days, had -behaved so nobly, and to that eldest child of his, would it not be -gross dishonesty to them all if he allowed this man to leave a will by -which his property might go to a person never intended to be his heir? - -Long before he had arrived at Greshamsbury his mind on this point had -been made up. Indeed, it had been made up while sitting there by -Scatcherd's bedside. It had not been difficult to make up his mind to -so much; but then, his way out of this dishonesty was not so easy for -him to find. How should he set this matter right to as to inflict no -injury on his niece, and no sorrow to himself--if that indeed could be -avoided? - -And then other thoughts crowded on his brain. He had always -professed--professed at any rate to himself and to her--that of all the -vile objects of a man's ambition, wealth, wealth merely for its own -sake, was the vilest. They, in their joint school of inherent -philosophy, had progressed to ideas which they might find it not easy -to carry out, should they be called on by events to do so. And if this -would have been difficult to either when acting on behalf of self -alone, how much more difficult when one might have to act for the -other! This difficulty had now come to the uncle. Should he, in this -emergency, take upon himself to fling away the golden chance which -might accrue to his niece if Scatcherd should be encouraged to make her -partly his heir? - -'He'd want her to go and live there--to live with him and his wife. -All the money in the Bank of England would not pay her for such misery,' -said the doctor to himself, as he slowly rode into is own yard. - -On one point, and one only, had he definitely made up his mind. On the -following day he would go over again to Boxall Hill, and would tell -Scatcherd the whole truth. Come what might, the truth must be best. -And so, with some gleam of comfort, he went into the house, and found -his niece in the drawing-room with Patience Oriel. - -'Mary and I have been quarrelling,' said Patience. 'She says the -doctor is the greatest man in a village; and I say the parson is of -course.' - -'I only say that the doctor is the most looked after,' said Mary. -'There's another horrid message for you to go to Silverbridge, uncle. -Why can't that Dr Century manage his own people?' - -'She says,' continued Miss Oriel, 'that if a parson was away for a -month, no one would miss him; but that a doctor is so precious that his -very minutes are counted.' - -'I am sure uncle's are. They begrudge him his meals. Mr Oriel never -gets called away to Silverbridge.' - -'No; we in the Church manage our parish arrangements better than you -do. We don't let strange practitioners in among our flocks because the -sheep may chance to fancy them. Our sheep have to put up with our -spiritual doses whether they like them or not. In that respect we are -much the best off. I advise you, Mary, to marry a clergyman, by all -means.' - -'I will when you marry a doctor,' said she. - -'I am sure nothing on earth would give me greater pleasure,' said Miss -Oriel, getting up and curtseying very low to Dr Thorne; 'but I am not -quite prepared for the agitation of an offer this morning, so I'll run -away.' - -And so she went; and the doctor, getting to his other horse, started -again for Silverbridge, wearily enough. 'She's happy now where she -is,' said he to himself, as he rode along. 'They all treat her there -as an equal at Greshamsbury. What though she be no cousin to the -Thornes of Ullathorne. She has found her place there among them all, -and keeps it on equal terms with the best of them. There is Miss -Oriel; her family is high; she is rich, fashionable, a beauty, courted -by every one; but yet she does not look down on Mary. They are equal -friends together. But how would it be if she were taken to Boxall -Hill, even as a recognized niece of the rich man there? Would Patience -Oriel and Beatrice Gresham go there after her? Could she be happy -there as she is in my house here, poor though it be? It would kill her -to pass a month with Lady Scatcherd and put up with that man's humours, -to see his mode of life, to be dependent on him, to belong to him.' And -then the doctor, hurrying on to Silverbridge, again met Dr Century at -the old lady's bedside, and having made his endeavours to stave off the -inexorable coming of the grim visitor, again returned to his own niece -and his own drawing-room. - -'You must be dead, uncle,' said Mary, as she poured out his tea for -him, and prepared the comforts of that most comfortable meal-tea, -dinner, and supper, all in one. 'I wish Silverbridge was fifty miles -off.' - -'That would only make the journey worse; but I am not dead yet, and, -what is more to the purpose, neither is my patient.' And as he spoke -he contrived to swallow a jorum of scalding tea, containing in measure -somewhat near a pint. Mary, not a whit amazed at this feat, merely -refilled the jorum without any observation; and the doctor went on -stirring the mixture with his spoon, evidently oblivious that any -ceremony had been performed by either of them since the first supply -had been administered to him. - -When the clatter of knives and forks was over, the doctor turned -himself to the hearthrug, and putting one leg over the other, he began -to nurse it as he looked with complacency at his third cup of tea, -which stood untasted beside him. The fragments of the solid banquet -had been removed, but no sacrilegious hand had been laid on the teapot -and the cream-jug. - -'Mary,' said he, 'suppose you were to find out to-morrow morning that, -by some accident, you had become a great heiress, would you be able to -suppress your exultation?' - -'The first thing I'd do, would be to pronounce a positive edict that -you should never go to Silverbridge again; at least without a day's -notice.' - -'Well, and what next? what would you do next?' - -'The next thing--the next thing would be to send to Paris for a French -bonnet exactly like the one Patience Oriel had on. Did you see it?' - -'Well I can't say I did; bonnets are invisible now; besides I never -remark anybody's clothes, except yours.' - -'Oh! do look at Miss Oriel's bonnet the next time you see her. I cannot -understand why it should be so, but I am sure of this--no English -fingers put together such a bonnet as that; and I am nearly sure that -no French fingers could do it in England.' - -'But you don't care so much about bonnets, Mary!' This the doctor said -as an assertion; but there was, nevertheless, somewhat of a question -involved in it. - -'Don't I though?' said she. 'I do care very much about bonnets; -especially since I saw Patience this morning. I asked how much it -cost--guess.' - -'Oh! I don't know--a pound?' - -'A pound, uncle!' - -'What! a great deal more? Ten pounds?' - -'Oh, uncle.' - -'What! more than ten pounds? Then I don't think even Patience Oriel -ought to give it.' - -'No, of course she would not; but, uncle, it really cost a hundred -francs!' - -'Oh! a hundred francs; that's four pounds, isn't it? Well, and how -much did your last new bonnet cost?' - -'Mine! oh, nothing--five and ninepence, perhaps; I trimmed it myself. -If I were left a great fortune, I'd send to Paris to-morrow; no, I'd -go myself to Paris to buy a bonnet, and I'd take you with me to choose -it.' - -The doctor sat silent for a while meditating about this, during which -he unconsciously absorbed the tea beside him; and Mary again -replenished his cup. - -'Come, Mary,' he said at last, 'I'm in a generous mood; and as I am -rather more rich than usual, we'll send to Paris for a French -bonnet. The going for it must wait a while longer I am afraid.' - -'You're joking.' - -'No, indeed. If you know the way to send--that I must confess would -puzzle me; but if you'll manage the sending, I'll manage the paying; -and you shall have a French bonnet.' - -'Uncle!' said she, looking up at him. - -'Oh, I'm not joking; I owe you a present, and I'll give you that.' - -'And if you do, I'll tell you what I'll do with it. I'll cut it into -fragments, and burn them before your face. Why, uncle, what do you -take me for? You're not a bit nice to-night to make such an offer as -that to me; not a bit, not a bit.' And then she came over from her -seat at the tea-tray and sat down on a foot-stool close at his knee. -'Because I'd have a French bonnet if I had a large fortune, is that a -reason why I should like one now? if you were to pay four pounds for a -bonnet for me, it would scorch my head every time I put it on.' - -'I don't see that: four pounds would not ruin me. However, I don't -think you'd look a bit better if you had it; and, certainly, I should -not like to scorch these locks,' and putting his hand upon her -shoulders, he played with her hair. - -'Patience has a pony-phaeton, and I'd have one if I were rich; and I'd -have all my books bound as she does; and, perhaps, I'd give fifty -guineas for a dressing-case.' - -'Fifty guineas!' - -'Patience did not tell me; but so Beatrice says. Patience showed it to -me once, and it is a darling. I think I'd have the dressing-case -before the bonnet. But, uncle--' - -'Well?' - -'You don't suppose I want such things?' - -'Not improperly. I am sure you do not.' - -'Not properly, or improperly; not much, or little. I covet many -things; but nothing of that sort. You know, or should know, that I do -not. Why do you talk of buying a French bonnet for me?' - -Dr Thorne did not answer this question, but went on nursing his leg. - -'After all,' said he, 'money is a fine thing.' - -'Very fine, when it is well come by,' she answered; 'that is, without -detriment to the heart and soul.' - -'I should be a happier man if you were provided for as Miss Oriel. -Suppose, now, I could give you up to a rich man who would be able to -insure you against all wants?' - -'Insure me against all wants! Oh, that would be a man. That would be -selling me, wouldn't it, uncle? Yes, selling me; and the price you -would receive would be freedom from future apprehensions as regards -me. It would be a cowardly sale for you to make; and then, as to me--me -the victim. No, uncle; you must bear the misery of having to provide -for me--bonnets and all. We are in the same boat, and you shan't turn -me overboard.' - -'But if I were to die, what would you do then?' - -'And if I were to die, what would you do? People must be bound -together. They must depend on each other. Of course, misfortunes may -come; but it is cowardly to be afraid of them beforehand. You and I -are bound together, uncle; and though you say these things to tease me, -I know you do not wish to get rid of me.' - -'Well, well; we shall win through, doubtless; if not in one way, then -in another.' - -'Win through! Of course we shall; who doubts our winning? but, uncle--' - -'But, Mary.' - -'Well?' - -'You haven't got another cup of tea, have you?' - -'Oh, uncle! you have had five.' - -'No, my dear! not five; only four--only four. I assure you; I have -been very particular to count. I had one while I was--' - -'Five uncle; indeed and indeed.' - -'Well, then, as I hate the prejudice which attaches luck to an odd -number, I'll have the sixth to show that I am not superstitious.' - -While Mary was preparing the sixth jorum, there came a knock at the -door. Those late summonses were hateful to Mary's ear, for they were -usually forerunners of a midnight ride through the dark lanes to some -farmer's house. The doctor had been in the saddle all day, and, as -Janet brought the note into the room, Mary stood up as though to defend -her uncle from any further invasion on his rest. - -'A note from the house, miss,' said Janet: now 'the house', in -Greshamsbury parlance, always meant the squire's mansion. - -'No one ill at the house, I hope,' said the doctor, taking the note -from Mary's hand. 'Oh--ah--yes; it's from the squire--there's nobody -ill: wait a minute, Janet, and I'll write a line. Mary, lend me your -desk.' - -The squire, anxious as usual for money, had written to ask what success -the doctor had had in negotiating the new loan with Sir Roger. That -fact, however, was, that in his visit to Boxall Hill, the doctor had -been altogether unable to bring on the carpet the matter of this loan. -Subjects had crowded themselves in too quickly during that -interview--those two interviews at Sir Roger's bedside; and he had been -obliged to leave without even alluding to the question. - -'I must at any rate go back now,' he said to himself. So he wrote to -the squire, saying that he was to be at Boxall Hill again on the -following day, and that he would call at the house on his return. - -'That's all settled, at any rate,' said he. - -'What's settled?' said Mary. - -'Why, I must go to Boxall Hill again to-morrow. I must go early, too, -so we'd better both be off to bed. Tell Janet I must breakfast at -half-past seven.' - -'You couldn't take me, could you? I should so like to see that Sir -Roger.' - -'To see Sir Roger! Why, he's ill in bed.' - -'That's an objection, certainly; but some day, when he's well, could -you not take me over? I have the greatest desire to see a man like -that; a man who began with nothing and now has more than enough to buy -the whole parish of Greshamsbury.' - -'I don't think you'd like him at all.' - -'Why not? I am sure I should; I am sure I should like him, and Lady -Scatcherd too. I've heard you say that she is an excellent woman.' - -'Yes, in her way; and he, too, is good in his way; but they are neither -of them in your way: they are extremely vulgar--' - -'Oh! I don't mind that; that would make them more amusing; one doesn't -go to those sort of people for polished manners.' - -'I don't think you'd find the Scatcherds pleasant acquaintances at -all,' said the doctor, taking his bed-candle, and kissing his niece's -forehead as he left the room. - - - -CHAPTER XII - -WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK, THEN COMES THE TUG OF WAR - -The doctor, that is our doctor, had thought nothing more of the message -which had been sent to that other doctor, Dr Fillgrave; nor in truth -did the baronet. Lady Scatcherd had thought of it, but her husband -during the rest of the day was not in a humour which allowed her to -remind him that he would soon have a new physician on his hands; so she -left the difficulty to arrange itself, waiting in some little -trepidation till Dr Fillgrave should show himself. - -It was well that Sir Roger was not dying for want of his assistance, -for when the message reached Barchester, Dr Fillgrave was some five or -six miles out of town, at Plumstead; and as he did not get back till -late in the evening, he felt himself necessitated to put off his visit -to Boxall Hill till next morning. Had he chanced to have been made -acquainted with that little conversation about the pump, he would -probably have postponed it even yet a while longer. - -He was, however, by no means sorry to be summoned to the bedside of Sir -Roger Scatcherd. It was well known at Barchester, and very well known -to Dr Fillgrave, that Sir Roger and Dr Thorne were old friends. It was -very well known to him also, that Sir Roger, in all his bodily -ailments, had hitherto been contented to entrust his safety to the -skill of his old friend. Sir Roger was in his way a great man, and -much talked of in Barchester, and rumour had already reached the ears -of the Barchester Galen, that the great railway contractor was ill. -When, therefore, he received a peremptory summons to go over to Boxall -Hill, he could not but think that some pure light had broken in upon -Sir Roger's darkness, and taught him at last where to look for true -medical accomplishment. - -And then, also, Sir Roger was the richest man in the county, and to -county practitioners a new patient with large means is a godsend; how -much greater a godsend when not only acquired, but taken also from -some rival practitioner, need hardly be explained. - -Dr Fillgrave, therefore, was somewhat elated when, after an early -breakfast, he stepped into the post-chaise which was to carry him to -Boxall Hill. Dr Fillgrave's professional advancement had been -sufficient to justify the establishment of a brougham, in which he paid -his ordinary visits round Barchester; but this was a special occasion, -requiring special speed, and about to produce no doubt a special -guerdon, and therefore a pair of post-horses were put into request. - -It was hardly yet nine when the post-boy somewhat loudly rang the bell -at Sir Roger's door; and then Dr Fillgrave, for the first time, found -himself in the new grand hall of Boxall Hill house. - -'I'll tell my lady,' said the servant, showing him into the grand -dining-room; and there for some fifteen minutes or twenty minutes Dr -Fillgrave walked up and down the length of the Turkey carpet all alone. - -Dr Fillgrave was not a tall man, and was perhaps rather more inclined -to corpulence than became his height. In his stocking-feet, according -to the usually received style of measurement, he was five feet five; -and he had a little round abdominal protuberance, which an inch and a -half added to the heels of his boots hardly enabled him to carry off as -well as he himself would have wished. Of this he was apparently -conscious, and it gave to him an air of not being entirely at his -ease. There was, however, a personal dignity in his demeanour, a -propriety in his gait, and an air of authority in his gestures which -should prohibit one from stigmatizing those efforts at altitude as a -failure. No doubt he did achieve much; but, nevertheless, the effort -would occasionally betray itself, and the story of the frog and the ox -would irresistibly force itself into one's mind at those moments when -it most behoved Dr Fillgrave to be magnificent. - -But if the bulgy roundness of his person and the shortness of his legs -in any way detracted from his personal importance, these trifling -defects were, he was well aware, more than atoned for by the peculiar -dignity of his countenance. If his legs were short, his face was not; -if there was any undue preponderance below the waistcoat, all was in -due symmetry above the necktie. His hair was grey, not grizzled, nor -white, but properly grey; and stood up straight from his temples on -each side, with an unbending determination of purpose. His whiskers, -which were of an admirable shape, coming down and turning gracefully at -the angle of his jaw, were grey also, but somewhat darker than his -hair. His enemies in Barchester declared that their perfect shade was -produced by a leaden comb. His eyes were not brilliant, but were very -effective, and well under command. He was rather short-sighted, and a -pair of eye-glasses was always on his nose, or in his hand. His nose -was long, and well pronounced, and his chin, also, was sufficiently -prominent; but the great feature of his face was his mouth. The amount -of secret medical knowledge of which he could give assurance by the -pressure of those lips was truly wonderful. By his lips, also, he -could be most exquisitely courteous, or most sternly forbidding. And -not only could he be either the one or the other; but he could at his -will assume any shade of difference between the two, and produce any -mixture of sentiment. - -When Dr Fillgrave was first shown into Sir Roger's dining-room, he -walked up and down the room for a while with easy, jaunty step, with -his hands joined together behind his back, calculating the price of the -furniture, and counting the heads which might be adequately entertained -in a room of such noble proportions; but in seven or eight minutes an -air of impatience might have been seen to suffuse his face. Why could -he not be shown into the sick man's room? What necessity could there -be for keeping him there, as though he were some apothecary with a box -of leeches in his pocket? He then rang the bell, perhaps a little -violently. 'Does Sir Roger know that I am here?' he said to the -servant. 'I'll tell my lady,' said the man, again vanishing. - -For five minutes more he walked up and down, calculating no longer the -value of the furniture, but rather that of his own importance. He was -not wont to be kept waiting in this way; and though Sir Roger Scatcherd -was at present a great and rich man, Dr Fillgrave had remembered him a -very small and a very poor man. He now began to think of Sir Roger as -the stone-mason, and to chafe somewhat more violently at being so kept -by such a man. - -When one is impatient, five minutes is as the duration of all time, and -a quarter of an hour is eternity. At the end of twenty minutes the -step of Dr Fillgrave up and down the room had become very quick, and he -had just made up his mind that he would not stay there all day to the -serious detriment, perhaps fatal injury, of his other expectant -patients. His hand was again on the bell, and was about to be used with -vigour, when the door opened and Lady Scatcherd entered. - -'Oh, laws!' Such had been her first exclamation on hearing that the -doctor was in the dining-room. She was standing at the time with her -housekeeper in a small room in which she kept her linen and jam, and in -which, in company with the same housekeeper, she spent the happiest -moments of her life. - -'Oh laws! now, Hannah, what shall we do?' - -'Send 'un up at once to master, my lady! let John take 'un up.' - -'There'll be such a row in the house, Hannah; I know there will.' - -'But surely didn't he send for 'un? Let the master have the row -himself, then; that's what I'd do, my lady,' added Hannah, seeing that -her ladyship still stood trembling in doubt, biting her thumb-nail. - -'You couldn't go up to the master yourself, could now, Hannah?' said -Lady Scatcherd in her most persuasive tone. - -'Why no,' said Hannah, after a little deliberation; 'no, I'm afeard I -couldn't.' - -'Then I must just face it myself.' And up went the wife to tell her -lord that the physician for whom he had sent had come to attend his -bidding. - -In the interview which then took place the baronet had not indeed been -violent, but he had been very determined. Nothing on earth, he said, -should induce him to see Dr Fillgrave and offend his dear old friend Dr -Thorne. - -'But Roger,' said her ladyship, half crying, or rather pretending to -cry in vexation, 'what shall I do with the man? How shall I get him out -of the house?' - -'Put him under the pump,' said the baronet; and he laughed his peculiar -low guttural laugh, which told so plainly of the havoc which brandy had -made in his throat. - -'That's nonsense, Roger; you know I can't put him under the pump. Now -you are ill, and you'd better see him just for five minutes. I'll make -it right with Dr Thorne.' - -'I'll be d--- if I do, my lady.' All the people about Boxall Hill called -poor Lady Scatcherd 'my lady' as if there was some excellent joke in -it; and, so, indeed, there was. - -'You know you needn't mind nothing he says, nor yet take nothing he -sends: and I'll tell him not to come no more. Now do 'ee see him, -Roger.' - -But there was not coaxing Roger over now, indeed ever: he was a wilful, -headstrong, masterful man; a tyrant always though never a cruel one; -and accustomed to rule his wife and household as despotically as he did -his gangs of workmen. Such men it is not easy to coax over. - -'You go down and tell him I don't want him, and won't see him, and -that's an end of it. If he chose to earn his money, why didn't he come -yesterday when he was sent for? I'm well now, and don't want him; and -what's more, I won't have him. Winterbones, lock the door.' - -So Winterbones, who during this interview had been at work at his -little table, got up to lock the door, and Lady Scatcherd had no -alternative but to pass through it before the last edict was obeyed. - -Lady Scatcherd, with slow step, went downstairs and again sought -counsel with Hannah, and the two, putting their heads together, agreed -that the only cure for the present evil was to found in a good fee. So -Lady Scatcherd, with a five-pound note in her hand, and trembling in -every limb, went forth to encounter the august presence of Dr -Fillgrave. - -As the door opened, Dr Fillgrave dropped the bell-rope which was in his -hand, and bowed low to the lady. Those who knew the doctor well, would -have known from his bow that he was not well pleased; it was as much as -though he said, 'Lady Scatcherd, I am your most obedient servant; at -any rate it appears that it is your pleasure to treat me as such.' - -Lady Scatcherd did not understand all this; but she perceived at once -that he was angry. - -'I hope Sir Roger does not find himself worse,' said the doctor. 'The -morning is getting on; shall I step up and see him?' - -'Hem! ha! oh! Why, you see, Dr Fillgrave, Sir Roger finds hisself -vastly better this morning, vastly so.' - -'I'm very glad to hear it; but as the morning is getting on, shall I -step up to see Sir Roger?' - -'Why, Dr Fillgrave, sir, you see, he finds hisself so much hisself this -morning, that he a'most thinks it would be a shame to trouble you.' - -'A shame to trouble me!' This was the sort of shame which Dr Fillgrave -did not at all comprehend. 'A shame to trouble me! Why Lady -Scatcherd--' - -Lady Scatcherd saw that she had nothing for it but to make the whole -matter intelligible. Moreover, seeing that she appreciated more -thoroughly the smallness of Dr Fillgrave's person more thoroughly than -she did the peculiar greatness of his demeanour, she began to be a -shade less afraid of him than she had thought she should have been. - -'Yes, Dr Fillgrave; you see, when a man like he gets well, he can't -abide the idea of doctors: now, yesterday, he was all for sending for -you; but to-day he comes to hisself, and don't seem to want no doctor -at all.' - -Then did Dr Fillgrave seem to grow out of his boots, so suddenly did he -take upon himself sundry modes of expansive attitude;--to grow out of -his boots and to swell upwards, till his angry eyes almost looked down -on Lady Scatcherd, and each erect hair bristled up towards the heavens. - -'This is very singular, very singular, Lady Scatcherd; very singular -indeed; very singular; quite unusual. I have come here from Barchester, -at some considerable inconvenience, at some very considerable -inconvenience, I may say, to my regular patients; and--and--and--I don't -know that anything so very singular ever occurred to me before.' And -then Dr Fillgrave, with a compression of his lips which almost made the -poor woman sink into the ground, moved towards the door. - -Then Lady Scatcherd bethought of her great panacea. 'It isn't about -the money, you know, doctor,' said she; 'of course Sir Roger don't -expect you to come here with post-horses for nothing.' In this, by -the by, Lady Scatcherd did not stick quite close to veracity, for Sir -Roger, had he known it, would by no means have assented to any payment; -and the note which her ladyship held in her hand was taken from her own -private purse. 'It ain't about the money, doctor;' and then she -tendered the bank-note, which she thought would immediately make all -things smooth. - -Now Dr Fillgrave dearly loved a five-pound fee. What physician is so -unnatural as not to love it? He dearly loved a five-pound fee; but he -loved his dignity better. He was angry also; and like all angry men, -he loved his grievance. He felt that he had been badly treated; but if -he took the money he would throw away his right to indulge in any such -feeling. At that moment his outraged dignity and cherished anger were -worth more than a five-pound note. He looked at it with wishful but -still averted eyes, and then sternly refused the tender. - -'No, madam,' said he; 'no, no;' and with his right hand raised with his -eye-glasses in it, he motioned away the tempting paper. 'No; I should -have been happy to have given Sir Roger the benefit of any medical -skill I may have, seeing that I was specially called in--' - -'But, doctor; if the man's well, you know--' - -'Oh, of course; if he's well, and does not choose to see me, there's an -end of it. Should he have any relapse, as my time is valuable, he will -perhaps oblige me by sending elsewhere. Madam, good morning. I will, -if you will allow me, ring for my carriage--that is, post-chaise.' - -'But, doctor, you'll take the money; you must take the money; indeed -you'll take the money,' said Lady Scatcherd, who had now become really -unhappy at the idea of her husband's unpardonable whim had brought this -man with post-horses all the way from Barchester, and that he was to be -paid nothing for his time or costs. - -'No, madam, no. I could not think of it. Sir Roger, I have no doubt, -will know better another time. It is not a question of money; not at -all.' - -'But it is a question of money, doctor; and you really shall, you -must.' And poor Lady Scatcherd, in her anxiety to acquit herself at -any rate of any pecuniary debt to the doctor, came to personal close -quarters with him, with a view of forcing the note into his hands. - -'Quite impossible, quite impossible,' said the doctor, still cherishing -his grievance, and valiantly rejecting the root of all evil. 'I shall -not do anything of the kind, Lady Scatcherd.' - -'Now doctor, do 'ee; to oblige me.' - -'Quite out of the question.' And so, with his hands and hat behind his -back, in token of his utter refusal to accept any pecuniary -accommodation of his injury, he made his way backwards to the door, her -ladyship perseveringly pressing him in front. So eager had been the -attack on him, that he had not waited to give his order about the -post-chaise, but made his way at once towards the hall. - -'Now, do 'ee take it, do 'ee,' pressed Lady Scatcherd. - -'Utterly out of the question,' said Dr Fillgrave, with great -deliberation, as he backed his way into the hall. As he did so, of -course he turned round,--and he found himself almost in the arms of Dr -Thorne. - -As Burley might have glared at Bothwell when they rushed together in -the dread encounter on the mountain side; as Achilles may have glared -at Hector when at last they met, each resolved to test in fatal -conflict the prowess of the other, so did Dr Fillgrave glare at his foe -from Greshamsbury, when, on turning round on his exalted heel, he found -his nose on a level with the top button of Dr Thorne's waistcoat. - -And here, if it be not too tedious, let us pause a while to -recapitulate and add up the undoubted grievances of the Barchester -practitioner. He had made no effort to ingratiate himself into the -sheepfold of that other shepherd-dog; it was not by his seeking that he -was not at Boxall Hill; much as he hated Dr Thorne, full sure as he -felt of that man's utter ignorance, of his incapacity to administer -properly even a black dose, of his murdering propensities and his low, -mean, unprofessional style of practice; nevertheless, he had done -nothing to undermine him with these Scatcherds. Dr Thorne might have -sent every mother's son at Boxall Hill to his long account, and Dr -Fillgrave would not have interfered;--would not have interfered unless -specially and duly called upon to do so. - -But he had been and duly called on. Before such a step was taken some -words must undoubtedly have passed on the subject between Thorne and -Scatcherds. Thorne must have known what was to be done. Having been -so called, Dr Fillgrave had come--had come all the way in a -post-chaise--had been refused admittance to the sick man's room, on the -plea that the sick man was no longer sick; and just as he was about to -retire fee-less--for the want of the fee was not the less a grievance -from the fact of its having been tendered and refused--feeless, -dishonoured, and in dudgeon, he encountered this other doctor--this -very rival whom he had bee sent to supplant; he encountered him in the -very act of going to the sick man's room. - -What mad fanatic Burley, what god-succoured insolent Achilles, ever had -such cause to swell with wrath as at that moment had Dr Fillgrave? Had -I the pen of Moliere, I could fitly tell of such medical anger, but -with no other pen can it be fitly told. He did swell, and when the huge -bulk of his wrath was added to his natural proportions, he loomed -gigantic before the eyes of the surrounding followers of Sir Roger. - -Dr Thorne stepped back three steps and took his hat from his head, -having, in the passage from the hall-door to the dining-room, hitherto -omitted to do so. It must be borne in mind that he had to conception -whatever that Sir Roger had declined to see the physician for whom he -had sent; none whatever that the physician was not about to return, -feeless, to Barchester. - -Dr Thorne and Dr Fillgrave were doubtless well-known enemies. All the -world of Barchester, and all that portion of the world of London which -is concerned with the lancet and the scalping-knife, were well aware of -this: they were continually writing against each other; continually -speaking against each other; but yet they had never hitherto come to -that positive personal collision which is held to justify a cut -direct. They very rarely saw each other; and when they did meet, it -was in some casual way in the streets of Barchester or elsewhere, and -on such occasions their habit had been to bow with very cold propriety. - -On the present occasion, Dr Thorne of course felt that Dr Fillgrave had -the whip-hand of him; and, with a sort of manly feeling on such a -point, he conceived it to be most compatible with his own dignity to -show, under such circumstances, more than his usual courtesy--something, -perhaps, amounting almost to cordiality. He had been supplanted, quoad -doctor, in the house of this rich, eccentric, railway baronet, and he -would show that he bore no malice on that account. - -So he smiled blandly as he took off his hat, and in a civil speech he -expressed a hope that Dr Fillgrave had not found his patient to be in -any very unfavourable state. - -Here was an aggravation to the already lacerated feelings of the -injured man. He had been brought thither to be scoffed at and scorned -at, that he might be a laughing-stock to his enemies, and food for -mirth to the vile-minded. He swelled with noble anger till he would -have burst, had it not been for the opportune padding of his -frock-coat. - -'Sir,' said he; 'sir:' and he could hardly get his lips open to give -vent to the tumult of his heart. Perhaps he was not wrong; for it may -be that his lips were more eloquent than would have been his words. - -'What's the matter?' said Dr Thorne, opening his eyes wide, and -addressing Lady Scatcherd over his head and across the hairs of the -irritated man below him. 'What on earth is the matter? Is anything -wrong with Sir Roger?' - -'Oh, laws, doctor!' said her ladyship. 'Oh, laws; I'm sure it ain't my -fault. Here's Dr Fillgrave, in a taking, and I'm quite ready to pay -him--quite. If a man gets paid, what more can he want?' And she again -held out the five-pound note over Dr Fillgrave's head. - -What more, indeed, Lady Scatcherd, can any of us want, if only we could -keep our tempers and feelings a little in abeyance? Dr Fillgrave, -however, could not so keep his; and, therefore, he did want something -more, though at the present moment he could hardly have said what. - -Lady Scatcherd's courage was somewhat resuscitated by the presence of -her ancient trusty ally; and, moreover, she began to conceive that the -little man before her was unreasonable beyond all conscience with his -anger, seeing that that for which he was ready to work had been offered -him without any work at all. - -'Madam,' said he, again turning round at Lady Scatcherd, 'I was never -before treated in such a way in any house in Barchester--never--never.' - -'Good heavens, Dr Fillgrave!' said he of Greshamsbury, 'what is the -matter?' - -'I'll let you know what is the matter, sir,' said he, turning round -again as quickly as before. 'I'll let you know what is the matter. -I'll publish this, sir, to the medical world;' and as he shrieked out -the words of the threat, he stood on tiptoes and brandished his -eye-glasses up almost into his enemy's face. - -'Don't be angry with Dr Thorne,' said Lady Scatcherd. 'Any ways, you -needn't be angry with him. If you must be angry with anybody--' - -'I shall be angry with him, madam,' ejaculated Dr Fillgrave, making -another sudden demi-pirouette. 'I am angry with him--or, rather, I -despise him;' and completing the circle, Dr Fillgrave again brought -himself round in full front of his foe. - -Dr Thorne raised his eyebrows and looked inquiringly at Lady Scatcherd; -but there was a quiet sarcastic motion round his mouth which by no -means had the effect of throwing oil on the troubled waters. - -'I'll publish the whole of this transaction to the medical world, Dr -Thorne--the whole of it; and if that has not the effect of rescuing the -people of Greshamsbury out of your hands, then--then--then, I don't know -what will. Is my carriage--that is, the post-chaise there?' and Dr -Fillgrave, speaking very loudly, turned majestically to one of the -servants. - -'What have I done to you, Dr Fillgrave,' said Dr Thorne, now absolutely -laughing, 'that you should determined to take the bread out of my -mouth? I am not interfering with your patient. I have come here simply -with reference to money matters appertaining to Sir Roger.' - -'Money matters! Very well--very well; money matters. That is your idea -of medical practice. Very well--very well. Is my post-chaise at the -door? I'll publish it all to the medical world--every word--every word -of it, every word of it.' - -'Publish what, you unreasonable man?' - -'Man! sir; whom do you call a man? I'll let you know whether I'm a -man--post-chaise there!' - -'Don't 'ee call him names now, doctor; don't 'ee pray don't 'ee,' said -Lady Scatcherd. - -By this time they had all got somewhere nearer the hall-door; but the -Scatcherd retainers were too fond of the row to absent themselves -willingly at Dr Fillgrave's bidding, and it did not appear that any one -went in search of the post-chaise. - -'Man! sir; I'll let you know what it is to speak to me in that style. I -think, sir, you hardly know who I am.' - -'All that I know of you at present is, that you are my friend Sir -Roger's physician, and I cannot conceive what has occurred to make you -so angry.' And as he spoke, Dr Thorne looked carefully at him to see -whether that pump-discipline had in truth been applied. There were no -signs whatever that cold water had been thrown upon Dr Fillgrave. - -'My post-chaise--is may post-chaise there? The medical world shall know -all; you may be sure, sir, the medical world shall know it all;' and -thus, ordering his post-chaise and threatening Dr Thorne with the -medical world, Dr Fillgrave made his way to the door. - -But the moment he put on his hat he returned. 'No, madam,' said he. -'No; quite out of the question: such an affair is not to be arranged by -such means. I'll publish it all to the medical world--post-chaise -there!' and then, using all his force, he flung as far as he could into -the hall a light bit of paper. It fell at Dr Thorne's feet, who, -raising it, found that it was a five-pound note. - -'I put it into his hat just while he was in his tantrum,' said Lady -Scatcherd. 'And I thought that perhaps he would not find it till he -got to Barchester. Well I wish he'd been paid, certainly, although Sir -Roger wouldn't see him;' and in this manner Dr Thorne got some glimpse -of understanding into the cause of the great offence. - -'I wonder whether Sir Roger will see me,' said he, laughing. - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE TWO UNCLES - -'Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha!' laughed Sir Roger, lustily, as Dr Thorne -entered the room. 'Well, if that ain't rich, I don't know what is. Ha! -ha! ha! But why didn't they put him under the pump, doctor?' - -The doctor, however, had too much tact, and too many things of -importance to say, to allow of his giving up much time to the -discussion of Dr Fillgrave's wrath. He had come determined to open the -baronet's eyes as to what would be the real effect of his will, and he -had also to negotiate a loan for Mr Gresham, if that might be -possible. Dr Thorne therefore began about the loan, that being the -easier subject, and found that Sir Roger was quite clear-headed as to -his many money concerns, in spite of his illness. Sir Roger was -willing enough to lend Mr Gresham more money--six, eight, ten, twenty -thousand; but then, in doing so, he should insist on possession of the -title-deeds. - -'What! the title-deeds of Greshamsbury for a few thousand pounds?' said -the doctor. - -'I don't know whether you call ninety thousand pounds a few thousands; -but the debt will about amount to that.' - -'Ah! that's the old debt.' - -'Old and new together, of course; every shilling I lend more weakens my -security for what I have lent before.' - -'But you have the first claim, Sir Roger.' - -'It ought to be first and last to cover such a debt as that. If he -wants further accommodation, he must part with his deeds, doctor.' - -The point was argued backwards and forwards for some time without -avail, and the doctor then thought it well to introduce the other -subject. - -'Sir Roger, you're a hard man.' - -'No I ain't,' said Sir Roger; 'not a bit hard; that is, not a bit too -hard. Money is always hard. I know I found it hard to come by; and -there is no reason why Squire Gresham should expect to find me so very -soft.' - -'Very well; there is an end of that. I thought you would have done as -much to oblige me, that is all.' - -'What! take bad security too oblige you?' - -'Well, there's an end of that.' - -'I'll tell you what; I'll do as much to oblige a friend as any one. -I'll lend you five thousand pounds, you yourself, without security at -all, if you want it.' - -'But you know I don't want it; or, at any rate, shan't take it.' - -'But to ask me to go on lending money to a third party, and he over -head and ears in debt, by way of obliging you, why, it's a little too -much.' - -'Well, there's and end of it. Now I've something to say to you about -that will of yours.' - -'Oh! that's settled.' - -'No, Scatcherd; it isn't settled. It must be a great deal more settled -before we have done with it, as you'll find when you hear what I have -to tell you.' - -'What you have to tell me!' said Sir Roger, sitting up in bed; 'and -what have you to tell me?' - -'Your will says you sister's eldest child.' - -'Yes; but that's only in the event of Louis Philippe dying before he is -twenty-five.' - -'Exactly; and now I know something about your sister's eldest child, -and, therefore, I have come to tell you.' - -'You know something about Mary's eldest child?' - -'I do, Scatcherd; it is a strange story, and maybe it will make you -angry. I cannot help it if it does so. I should not tell you this if -I could avoid it; but as I do tell you, for your sake, as you will see, -and not for my own, I must implore you not to tell my secret to -others.' - -Sir Roger now looked at him with an altered countenance. There was -something in his voice of the authoritative tone of other days, -something in the doctor's look which had on the baronet the same effect -which in former days it had sometimes had on the stone-mason. - -'Can you give me a promise, Scatcherd, that what I am about to tell you -shall not be repeated?' - -'A promise! Well, I don't know what it's about, you know. I don't -like promises in the dark.' - -'Then I must leave it to your honour; for what I have to say must be -said. You remember my brother, Scatcherd?' - -Remember his brother! thought the rich man to himself. The name of the -doctor's brother had not been alluded to between them since the days of -that trial; but still it was impossible but that Scatcherd should well -remember him. - -'Yes, yes; certainly. I remember your brother,' said he. 'I remember -him well; there's no doubt about that.' - -'Well, Scatcherd,' and, as he spoke, the doctor laid his hand with -kindness on the other's arm. 'Mary's eldest child was my brother's -child as well. - -'But there is no such child living,' said Sir Roger; and, in his -violence, as he spoke he threw from off him the bedclothes, and tried -to stand up on the floor. He found, however, that he had no strength -for such an effort, and was obliged to remain leaning on the bed and -resting on the doctor's arm. - -'There was no such child ever lived,' said he. 'What do you mean by -this?' - -Dr Thorne would say nothing further till he had got the man into bed -again. This he at last affected, and then he went on with the story in -his own way. - -'Yes, Scatcherd, that child is alive; and for fear that you should -unintentionally make her your heir, I have thought it right to tell you -this.' - -'A girl, is it?' - -'Yes, a girl.' - -'And why should you want to spite her? If she is Mary's child, she is -your brother's child also. If she is my niece, she must be your niece -also. Why should you want to spite her? Why should you try to do her -such a terrible injury?' - -'I do not want to spite her.' - -'Where is she? Who is she? What is she called? Where does she live?' - -The doctor did not at once answer all these questions. He had made up -his mind that he would tell Sir Roger that this child was living, but -he had not as yet resolved to make known all the circumstances of her -history. He was not even yet quite aware whether it would be necessary -to say that this foundling orphan was the cherished darling of his own -house. - -'Such a child, is, at any rate, living,' said he; 'of that I give you -my assurance; and under your will, as now worded, it might come to pass -that that child should be your heir. I do not want to spite her, but I -should be wrong to let you make your will without such knowledge, -seeing that I am in possession of it myself.' - -'But where is the girl?' - -'I do not know that that signifies.' - -'Signifies! Yes; it does signify, a great deal. But, Thorne, Thorne, -now that I remember it, now that I can think of things, it was--was it -not you yourself who told me that the baby did not live?' - -'Very possibly.' - -'And was it a lie that you told me?' - -'If so, yes. But it is no lie that I tell you now.' - -'I believed you then, Thorne; then, when I was a poor, broken-down -day-labourer, lying in jail, rotting there; but I tell you fairly, I do -not believe you now. You have some scheme in this.' - -'Whatever scheme I may have, you can frustrate by making another will. -What can I gain by telling you this? I only do so to induce you to be -more explicit in naming your heir.' - -They both remained silent for a while, during which the baronet poured -out from his hidden resource a glass of brandy and swallowed it. - -'When a man is taken aback suddenly by such tidings as these, he must -take a drop of something, eh, doctor?' - -Dr Thorne did not seen the necessity; but the present, he felt, was no -time for arguing the point. - -'Come, Thorne, where is the girl? You must tell me that. She is my -niece, and I have a right to know. She shall come here, and I will do -something for her. By the Lord! I would as soon she had the money as -anyone else, if she's anything of a good 'un;--some of it, that is. Is -she a good 'un?' - -'Good!' said the doctor, turning away his face. 'Yes; she is good -enough.' - -'She must be grown up by now. None of your light skirts, eh?' - -'She is a good girl,' said the doctor somewhat loudly and sternly. He -could hardly trust himself to say much on this point. - -'Mary was a good girl, a very good girl, till'--and Sir Roger raised -himself up in his bed with his fist clenched, as though he were again -about to strike that fatal blow at the farm-yard gate. 'But come, it's -no good thinking of that; you behaved well and manly, always. And so -poor Mary's child is alive; at least, you say so.' - -'I say so, and you may believe it. Why should I deceive you?' - -'No, no; I don't see why. But then why did you deceive me before?' - -To this the doctor chose to make no answer, and again there was silence -for a while. - -'What do you call her, doctor?' - -'Her name is Mary.' - -'The prettiest women's name going; there's no name like it,' said the -contractor, with an unusual tenderness in his voice. 'Mary--yes; but -Mary what? What other name does she go by?' - -Here the doctor hesitated. - -'Mary Scatcherd--eh?' - -'No. Not Mary Scatcherd.' - -'Not Mary Scatcherd! Mary what, then? you, with your d--- pride, -wouldn't let her be called Mary Thorne, I know.' - -This was too much for the doctor. He felt that there were tears in his -eyes, so he walked away to the window to dry them, unseen. He had -fifty names, each more sacred than the other, the most sacred of them -all would hardly have been good enough for her. - -'Mary what, doctor? Come, if the girl is to belong to me, if I am to -provide for her, I must know what to call her, and where to look for -her.' - -'Who talked of your providing for her?,' said the doctor, turning round -at the rival uncle. 'Who said that she was to belong to you? She will -be no burden to you; you are only told of this that you may not leave -your money to her without knowing it. She is provided for--that is, -she wants nothing; she will do well enough; you need not trouble -yourself about her.' - -'But is she's Mary's child, Mary's child in real truth, I will trouble -myself about her. Who else should do so? For the matter of that, I'd -soon say her as any of those others in America. What do I care about -blood? I shan't mind her being a bastard. That is to say, of course, -if she's decently good. Did she ever get any kind of teaching; -book-learning, or anything of that sort?' - -Dr Thorne at this moment hated his friend the baronet with almost a -deadly hatred; that he, rough brute as he was--for he was a rough -brute--that he should speak in such language of the angel who gave to -that home in Greshamsbury so many of the joys of Paradise--that he -should speak of her as in some degree his own, that he should inquire -doubtingly as to her attributes and her virtues. And then the doctor -thought of her Italian and French readings, of her music, of her nice -books, and sweet lady ways, of her happy companionship with Patience -Oriel, and her dear, bosom friendship with Beatrice Gresham. He -thought of her grace, and winning manners, and soft, polished feminine -beauty; and, as he did so, he hated Sir Roger Scatcherd, and regarded -him with loathing, as he might have regarded a wallowing-hog. - -At last a light seemed to break in upon Sir Roger's mind. Dr Thorne, -he perceived, did not answer his last question. He perceived, also, -that the doctor was affected with some more than ordinary emotion. Why -should it be that this subject of Mary Scatcherd's child moved him so -deeply? Sir Roger had never been at the doctor's house at -Greshamsbury, had never seen Mary Thorne, but he had heard that there -lived with the doctor some young female relative; and thus a glimmering -light seemed to come in upon Sir Roger's bed. - -He had twitted the doctor with his pride; had said that it was -impossible that the girl should be called Mary Thorne. What if she -were so called? What if she were now warming herself at the doctor's -hearth? - -'Well, come, Thorne, what is it you call her? Tell it out, man. And, -look you, if it's your name she bears, I shall think more of you, a -deal more than ever I did yet. Come, Thorne, I'm her uncle too. I -have a right to know. She is Mary Thorne, isn't she?' - -The doctor had not the hardihood nor the resolution to deny it. 'Yes,' -said he, 'that is her name; she lives with me.' - -'Yes, and lives with all those grand folks at Greshamsbury too. I have -heard of that.' - -'She lives with me, and belongs to me, and is as my daughter.' - -'She shall come over here. Lady Scatcherd shall have her to stay with -her. She shall come to us. And as for my will, I'll make another. -I'll--' - -'Yes, make another will--or else alter that one. But as to Miss Thorne -coming here--' - -'What! Mary--' - -'Well, Mary. As to Mary Thorne coming here, that I fear will not be -possible. She cannot have two homes. She has cast her lot with one of -her uncles, and she must remain with him now.' - -'Do you mean to say that she must have any relation but one?' - -'But one such as I am. She would not be happy over here. She does not -like new faces. You have enough depending on you; I have but her.' - -'Enough! why, I have only Louis Philippe. I could provide for a dozen -girls.' - -'Well, well, well, we will not talk about that.' - -'Ah! but, Thorne, you have told me of this girl now, and I cannot but -talk of her. If you wished to keep the matter dark, you should have -said nothing about it. She is my niece as much as yours. And, Thorne, -I loved my sister Mary quite as well as you loved your brother; quite -as well.' - -Any one who might have heard and seen the contractor would have hardly -thought him to be the same man who, a few hours before, was urging that -the Barchester physician should be put under the pump. - -'You have your son, Scatcherd. I have no one but that girl.' - -'I don't want to take her from you. I don't want to take her; but -surely there can be no harm in her coming here to see us? I can provide -for her, Thorne, remember that. I can provide for her without -reference to Louis Philippe. What are ten or fifteen thousand pounds -to me? Remember that, Thorne.' - -Dr Thorne did remember it. In that interview he remembered many -things, and much passed through his mind on which he felt himself -compelled to resolve somewhat too suddenly. Would he be justified in -rejecting, on behalf of Mary, the offer of pecuniary provision which -this rich relative would be so well inclined to make? Or, if he -accepted ti, would be in truth be studying her interests? Scatcherd -was a self-willed, obstinate man--now indeed touched by unwonted -tenderness; but he was one of those whose lasting tenderness Dr Thorne -would be very unwilling to trust his darling. He did resolve, that on -the whole he should best discharge his duty, even to her, by keeping -her to himself, and rejecting, on her behalf, any participation in the -baronet's wealth. As Mary herself had said, 'some people must be bound -together;' and their destiny, that of himself and his niece, seemed to -have so bound them. She had found her place at Greshamsbury, her place -in the world; and it would be better for her now to keep it, than to go -forth and seek another that would be richer, but at the same time less -suited to her. - -'No, Scatcherd,' he said at last, 'she cannot come here; she would not -be happy here, and, to tell the truth I do not wish her to know that -she has other relatives.' - -'Ah! she would be ashamed of her mother, you mean, and of her mother's -brother too, eh? She's too fine a lady, I suppose, to take me by the -hand and give me a kiss, and call me her uncle? I and Lady Scatcherd -would not be grand enough for her, eh?' - -'You may say what you please, Scatcherd: I of course cannot stop you.' - -'But I don't know how you'll reconcile what you are doing with your -conscience. What right can you have to throw away the girl's chance, -now that she has a chance? What fortune can you give her?' - -'I have done what little I could,' said Thorne, proudly. - -'Well, well, well, well, I never heard such a thing in my life; never. -Mary's child, my own Mary's child, and I'm not to see her! But, -Thorne, I tell you what; I will see her. I'll go over to her, I'll go -to Greshamsbury, and tell her who I am, and what I can do for her. I -tell you fairly I will. You shall not keep her away from those who -belong to her, and can do her a good turn. Mary's daughter; another -Mary Scatcherd! I almost wish she were called Mary Scatcherd. Is she -like her, Thorne? Come tell me that; is she like her mother.' - -'I do not remember her mother; at least not in health.' - -'Not remember her! ah, well. She was the handsomest girl in -Barchester, anyhow. That was given up to her. Well, I didn't think to -be talking of her again. Thorne, you cannot but expect that I shall go -over and see Mary's child?' - -'Now, Scatcherd, look here,' and the doctor, coming away from the -window, where he had been standing, sat himself down by the bedside, -'you must not come over to Greshamsbury.' - -'Oh! but I shall.' - -'Listen to me, Scatcherd. I do not want to praise myself in any way; -but when that girl was an infant, six months old, she was like to be a -thorough obstacle to her mother's fortune in life. Tomlinson was -willing to marry your sister, but he would not marry the child too. Then -I took the baby, and I promised her mother that I would be to her as a -father. I have kept my word as fairly as I have been able. She has sat -at my hearth, and drunk of my cup, and been to me as my own child. -After that, I have the right to judge what is best for her. Her life -is not like your life, and her ways are not as your ways--' - -'Ah, that is just it; we are too vulgar for her.' - -'You may take it as you will,' said the doctor, who was too much in -earnest to be in the least afraid of offending his companion. 'I have -not said so; but I do say that you and she are unlike in the way of -living.' - -'She wouldn't like an uncle with a brandy bottle under his head, eh?' - -'You could not see her without letting her know what is the connexion -between you; of that I wish to keep her in ignorance.' - -'I never knew any one yet who is ashamed of a rich connexion. How do -you mean to get a husband for her, eh?' - -'I have told you of her existence,' continued the doctor, not appearing -to notice what the baronet had last said, 'because I found it necessary -that you should know the fact of your sister having left a child behind -her; you would otherwise have made a will different from that intended, -and there might have been a lawsuit, and mischief, and misery when we -are gone. You must perceive that I have done this in honesty to you; -and you yourself are too honest to repay me by taking advantage of this -knowledge to make me unhappy.' - -'Oh, very well, doctor. At any rate, you are a brick, I will say -that. But I'll think of this, I'll think of it; but it does startle me -to find that poor Mary has a child living so near to me.' - -'And now, Scatcherd, I will say good-bye. We part as friends, don't -we?' - -'Oh, but doctor, you ain't going to leave me so. What am I to do? What -doses shall I take? How much brandy may I drink? May I have a grill -for dinner? D--- me, doctor, you have turned Fillgrave out of the -house. You mustn't go and desert me.' - -Dr Thorne laughed, and then, sitting himself down to write medically, -gave such prescriptions and ordinances as he found to be necessary. -They announced but to this: that the man was to drink, if possible, no -brandy; and if that were not possible, then as little as might be. - -This having been done, the doctor again proceeded to take his leave; -but when he got to the door he was called back. 'Thorne! Thorne! -About that money for Mr Gresham; do what you like, do just what you -like. Ten thousand is it? Well, he shall have it. I'll make -Winterbones write about it at once. Five per cent., isn't it? No, four -and a half. Well, he shall have ten thousand more.' - -'Thank you, Scatcherd, thank you, I am really very much obliged to you, -I am indeed. I wouldn't ask it if I was not sure your money is safe. -Good-bye, old fellow, and get rid of that bedfellow of yours,' and -again he was at the door. - -'Thorne,' said Sir Roger once more. 'Thorne, just come back for a -minute. You wouldn't let me send a present would you--fifty pounds or -so,--just to buy a few flounces?' - -The doctor contrived to escape without giving a definite answer to this -question; and then, having paid his compliments to Lady Scatcherd, -remounted his cob and rode back to Greshamsbury. - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -SENTENCE OF EXILE - -Dr Thorne did not at once go home to his own house. When he reached -the Greshamsbury gates, he sent his horse to its own stable by one of -the people at the lodge, and then walked on to the mansion. He had to -see the squire on the subject of the forthcoming loan, and he had also -to see the Lady Arabella. - -The Lady Arabella, though she was not personally attached to the doctor -with quite so much warmth as some others of her family, still had -reasons of her own for not dispensing with his visits to the house. She -was one of his patients, and a patient fearful of the disease with -which she was threatened. Though she thought the doctor to be arrogant, -deficient as to properly submissive demeanour towards herself, an -instigator to marital parsimony in her lord, one altogether opposed to -herself and her interest in Greshamsbury politics, nevertheless she did -feel trust in him as a medical man. She had no wish to be rescued out -of his hands by any Dr Fillgrave, as regarded that complaint of hers, -much as she may have desired, and did desire, to sever him from all -Greshamsbury councils in all matters not touching the healing art. - -Now the complaint of which the Lady Arabella was afraid, was cancer: -and her only present confidant in this matter was Dr Thorne. - -The first of the Greshamsbury circle whom he saw was Beatrice, and he -met her in the garden. - -'Oh, doctor,' said she, 'where has Mary been this age? She has not -been up here since Frank's birthday.' - -'Well, that was only three days ago. Why don't you go down and ferret -her out in the village?' - -'So I have done. I was there just now, and found her out. She was out -with Patience Oriel. Patience is all and all with her now. Patience -is all very well, but if they throw me over--' - -'My dear Miss Gresham, Patience is and always was a virtue.' - -'A poor, beggarly, sneaking virtue after all, doctor. They should have -come up, seeing how deserted I am here. There's absolutely nobody -left.' - -'Has Lady de Courcy gone?' - -'Oh, yes! All the De Courcys have gone. I think, between ourselves, -Mary stays away because she does not love them too well. They have all -gone, and taken Augusta and Frank with them.' - -'Has Frank gone to Courcy Castle?' - -'Oh, yes; did you not hear? There was rather a fight about it. Master -Frank wanted to get off, and was as hard to catch as an eel, and then -the countess was offended; and papa said he didn't see why Frank was to -go if he didn't like it. Papa is very anxious about his degree, you -know.' - -The doctor understood it all as well as though it had been described to -him at full length. The countess had claimed her prey, in order that -she might carry him off to Miss Dunstable's golden embrace. The prey, -not yet old enough and wise enough to connect the worship of Plutus -with that of Venus, had made sundry futile feints and dodges in the -vain hope of escape. Then the anxious mother had enforced the De -Courcy behests with all a mother's authority. But the father, whose -ideas on the subject of Miss Dunstable's wealth had probably not been -consulted, had, as a matter of course, taken exactly the other side of -the question. The doctor did not require to be told all this in order -to know how the battle had raged. He had not yet heard of the great -Dunstable scheme; but he was sufficiently acquainted with Greshamsbury -tactics to understand that the war had been carried on somewhat after -this fashion. - -As a rule, when the squire took a point warmly to heart, he was wont to -carry his way against the De Courcy interest. He could be obstinate -enough when it so pleased him, and had before now gone so far as to tell -his wife, that her thrice-noble sister-in-law might remain at home at -Courcy Castle--or, at any rate, not come to Greshamsbury--if she could -not do so without striving to rule him and every one else when she got -here. This had of course been repeated to the countess, who had merely -replied to it by a sisterly whisper, in which she sorrowfully intimated -that some men were born brutes, and always would remain so. - -'I think they all are,' the Lady Arabella had replied; wishing, -perhaps, to remind her sister-in-law that the breed of brutes was as -rampant in West Barsetshire as in the eastern division of that county. - -The squire, however, had not fought on this occasion with all his -vigour. There had, of course, been some passages between him and his -son, and it had been agreed that Frank should go for a fortnight to -Courcy Castle. - -'We mustn't quarrel with them, you know, if we can help it,' said the -father; 'and, therefore, you must go sooner or later.' - -'Well, I suppose so; but you don't know how dull it is, governor.' - -'Don't I!' said Gresham. - -'There's a Miss Dunstable to be there; did you ever hear of her, sir?' - -'No, never.' - -'She's a girl whose father used to make ointment, or something of that -sort.' - -'Oh, yes, to be sure; the ointment of Lebanon. He used to cover all -the walls of London. I haven't heard of him this year past.' - -'No; that is because he's dead. Well, she carries on the ointment now, -I believe; at any rate, she has got all the money. I wonder what she's -like?' - -'You'd better go and see,' said the father, who now began to have some -inkling of an idea why the two ladies were so anxious to carry his son -off to Courcy Castle at this exact time. And so Frank had packed up his -best clothes, given a last fond look at the new black horse, repeated -his last special injunctions to Peter, and had then made one of the -stately cortege which proceeded through the county from Greshamsbury to -Courcy Castle. - -'I am very glad of that, very,' said the squire, when he heard that the -money was to be forthcoming. 'I shall get it on easier terms from him -than elsewhere; and it kills me to have continual bother about such -things.' And Mr Gresham, feeling that that difficulty was tided over for -a time, and that the immediate pressure of little debts would be abated, -stretched himself on his easy chair as though he were quite -comfortable;--one may say almost elated. - -How frequent it is that men on their road to ruin feel elation such as -this! A man signs away moiety of his substance; nay, that were -nothing; but a moiety of the substance of his children; he puts his pen -to the paper that ruins him and them; but in doing so he frees himself -from a source of immediate little pestering, stinging troubles: and, -therefore, feels as though fortune has been almost kind to him. - -The doctor felt angry with himself for what he had done when he saw how -easily the squire adapted himself to this new loan. 'It will make -Scatcherd's claim upon you very heavy,' said he. - -Mr Gresham at once read all that was passing through the doctor's -mind. 'Well, what else can I do?' said he. 'You wouldn't have me -allow my daughter to lose this match for the sake of a few thousand -pounds? It will be well at any rate to have one of them settled. Look -at that letter from Moffat.' - -The doctor took the letter and read it. It was a long, wordy, -ill-written rigmarole, in which that amorous gentleman spoke with much -rapture of his love and devotion for Miss Gresham; but at the same time -declared, and most positively swore, that the adverse cruelty of his -circumstances was such, that it would not allow him to stand up like a -man at the hymeneal altar until six thousand pounds hard cash had been -paid down at his banker's. - -'It may be all right,' said the squire; 'but in my time gentlemen were -not used to write such letters as that to each other.' - -The doctor shrugged his shoulders. He did not know how far he would be -justified in saying much, even to his friend the squire, in dispraise -of his future son-in-law. - -'I told him that he should have the money; and one would have thought -that that would have been enough for him. Well: I suppose Augusta -likes him. I suppose she wishes the match; otherwise, I would give him -such an answer to that letter as would startle him a little.' - -'What settlement is he to make?' said Thorne. - -'Oh, that's satisfactory enough; couldn't be more so; a thousand a year -and the house at Wimbledon for her; that's all very well. But such a -lie, you know, Thorne. He's rolling in money, and yet he talks of this -beggarly sum as though he couldn't possibly stir without it.' - -'If I might venture to speak my mind,' said Thorne. - -'Well?' said the squire, looking at him earnestly. - -'I should be inclined to say that Mr Moffat wants to cry off, himself.' - -'Oh, impossible; quite impossible. In the first place, he was so very -anxious for the match. In the next place, it is such a great thing for -him. And then, he would never dare; you see, he is dependent on the De -Courcys for his seat.' - -'But suppose he loses his seat?' - -'But there is not much fear of that, I think. Scatcherd may be a very -fine fellow, but I think they'll hardly return him at Barchester.' - -'I don't understand much about it,' said Thorne; 'but such things do -happen.' - -'And you believe that this man absolutely wants to get off the match; -absolutely thinks of playing such a trick as that on my daughter;--on -me?' - -'I don't say he intends to do it; but it looks to me as though he were -making a door for himself, or trying to make a door: if so, your having -the money will stop him there.' - -'But, Thorne, don't you think he loves the girl? If I thought not--' - -The doctor was silent for a moment, and then he said, 'I am not a -love-making man myself, but I think that if I were much in love with a -young lady, I should not write such a letter as that to her father.' - -'By heavens! If I thought so,' said the squire--'but, Thorne, we can't -judge of those fellows as one does of gentlemen; they are so used to -making money, and seeing money made, that they have an eye to business -in everything.' - -'Perhaps so, perhaps so,' muttered the doctor, showing evidently that -he still doubted the warmth of Mr Moffat's affection. - -'The match was none of my making, and I cannot interfere now to break -it off: it will give her a good position in the world; for, after all, -money goes a great way, and it is something to be in Parliament. I can -only hope she likes him. I do truly hope she likes him;' and the -squire also showed by the tone of his voice that, though he might hope -that his daughter was in love with her intended husband, he hardly -conceived it to be possible that she should be so. - -And what was the truth of the matter? Miss Gresham was no more in love -with Mr Moffat than you are--oh, sweet, young, blooming beauty! Not a -whit more; not, at least, in your sense of the word, nor in mine. She -had by no means resolved within her heart that of all the men whom she -had ever seen, or ever could see, he was far away the nicest and the -best. That is what you will do when you are in love, if you be good -for anything. She had no longing to sit near to him--the nearer the -better; she had no thought of his taste and his choice when she bought -her ribbons and bonnets; she had not indescribable desire that all her -female friends should be ever talking to her about him. When she wrote -to him, she did not copy her letters again and again, so that she might -be, as it were, ever speaking to him; she took no special pride in -herself because he had chosen her to be his life's partner. In point -of fact, she did not care one straw about him. - -And yet she thought she loved him; was, indeed, quite confident that -she did so; told her mother that she was sure Gustavus would wish this, -she knew Gustavus would like that, and so on; but as for Gustavus -himself, she did not care one chip about him. - -She was in love with her match just as farmers are in love with wheat -and eighty shillings a quarter; or shareholders--innocent gudgeons--with -seven and half per cent interest on their paid up capital. Eighty -shillings a quarter, and seven and half per cent interest, such were -the returns which she had been taught to look for in exchange for her -young heart; and, having obtained them, or being thus about to obtain -them, why should not her young heart be satisfied? Had she not sat -herself down obediently at the feet of her lady Gamaliel, and should -she not be rewarded? Yes, indeed, she shall be rewarded. - -And then the doctor went to the lady. On their medical secrets we will -not intrude; but there were other matters bearing on the course of our -narrative, as to which Lady Arabella found it necessary to say a word -of so to the doctor; and it is essential that we should know what was -the tenor of those few words so spoken. - -How the aspirations, and instincts, and feelings of a household become -changed as the young birds begin to flutter those feathered wings, and -have half-formed thoughts of leaving the parental nest! A few months -back, Frank had reigned almost autocratic over the lesser subjects of -the kingdom of Greshamsbury. The servants, for instance, always obeyed -him, and his sisters never dreamed of telling anything which he -directed should not be told. All his mischief, all his troubles, and -all his loves were confided to them, with the sure conviction that they -would never be made to stand in evidence against him. - -Trusting to this well-ascertained state of things, he had not hesitated -to declare his love for Miss Thorne before his sister Augusta. But his -sister Augusta had now, as it were, been received into the upper house; -having duly profited by the lessons of her great instructress, she was -now admitted to sit in conclave with the higher powers: her sympathies, -of course, became changed, and her confidence was removed from the -young and giddy and given to the ancient and discreet. She was as a -schoolboy, who, having finished his schooling, and being fairly forced -by necessity into the stern bread-earning world, undertakes the new -duties of tutoring. Yesterday he was taught, and fought, of course, -against the schoolmaster; to-day he teaches, and fights as keenly for -him. So it was with Augusta Gresham, when, with careful brow, she -whispered to her mother that there was something wrong between Frank -and Mary Thorne. - -'Stop it at once, Arabella: stop it at once,' the countess had said; -'that, indeed, will be the ruin. If he does not marry money, he is -lost. Good heavens! the doctor's niece! A girl that nobody knows -where she comes from!' - -'He's going with you to-morrow, you know,' said the anxious mother. - -'Yes; and that is so far well: if he will be led by me, the evil may be -remedied before he returns; but it is very, very hard to lead young -men. Arabella, you must forbid that girl to come to Greshamsbury again -on any pretext whatever. The evil must be stopped at once.' - -'But she is here so much as a matter of course.' - -'Then she must be here as a matter of course no more: there has been -folly, very great folly, in having her here. Of course she would turn -out to be a designing creature with such temptation before her; with -such a prize within her reach, how could she help it?' - -'I must say, aunt, she answered him very properly,' said Augusta. - -'Nonsense,' said the countess; 'before you of course she did. Arabella, -the matter must not be left to the girl's propriety. I never knew the -propriety of a girl of that sort to be fit to be depended on yet. If -you wish to save the whole family from ruin, you must take steps to -keep her away from Greshamsbury now at once. Now is the time; now that -Frank is going away. Where so much, so very much depends on a young -man's marrying money, not one day ought to be lost.' - -Instigated in this manner, Lady Arabella resolved to open her mind to -the doctor, and to make it intelligible to him, that under present -circumstances, Mary's visits at Greshamsbury had better be -discontinued. She would have given much, however, to have escaped this -business. She had in her time tried one or two falls with the doctor, -and she was conscious that she had never yet got the better of him: and -then she was in a slight degree afraid of Mary herself. She had a -presentiment that it would not be so easy to banish Mary from -Greshamsbury: she was not sure that that young lady would not boldly -assert her right to her place in the school-room; appeal loudly to the -squire, and perhaps, declare her determination of marrying the heir, -out before them all. The squire would be sure to uphold her in that, -or in anything else. - -And then, too, there would be the greatest difficulty in wording her -request to the doctor; and Lady Arabella was sufficiently conscious of -her own weakness to know that she was not always very good at words. -But the doctor, when hard pressed, was never at fault: he could say the -bitterest things in the quietest tone, and Lady Arabella had a great -dread of these bitter things. What, also, if he should desert her -himself; withdraw from her his skill and knowledge of her bodily wants -and ailments now that he was so necessary to her? She had once before -taken that measure of sending to Barchester for Dr Fillgrave, but it -had answered with her hardly better than with Sir Roger and Lady -Scatcherd. - -When, therefore, Lady Arabella found herself alone with the doctor, and -called upon to say out in what best language she could select for the -occasion, she did not feel to very much at her ease. There was that -about the man before her which cowed her, in spite of her being the -wife of the squire, the sister of an earl, a person quite acknowledged -to be of the great world, and the mother of a very important young man -whose affections were now about to be called in question. -Nevertheless, there was the task to be done, and with a mother's -courage she essayed it. - -'Dr Thorne,' said she, as soon as their medical conference was at an -end, 'I am very glad you came over to-day, for I have something special -which I wanted to say to you:' so far she got, and then stopped; but, -as the doctor did not seem inclined to give her any assistance, she was -forced to flounder on as best she could. - -'Something very particular indeed. You know what a respect and esteem, -and I may say affection, we all have for you,'--here the doctor made a -low bow--'and I may say for Mary also;' here the doctor bowed himself -again. 'We have done what little we could to be pleasant neighbours, -and I think you'll believe me when I say that I am a true friend to you -and dear Mary--' - -The doctor knew that something very unpleasant was coming, but he could -not at all guess what might be its nature. He felt, however, that he -must say something; so he expressed a hope that he was duly sensible of -all the acts of kindness he had ever received from the squire and the -family at large. - -'I hope, therefore, my dear doctor, you won't take amiss what I am -going to say.' - -'Well, Lady Arabella, I'll endeavour not to do so.' - -'I am sure I would not give any pain if I could help it, much less to -you. But there are occasions, doctor, in which duty must be paramount; -paramount to all other considerations, you know, and, certainly, this -occasion is one of them.' - -'But what is the occasion, Lady Arabella?' - -'I'll tell you, doctor. You know what Frank's position is?' - -'Frank's position?' - -'Why his position in life; an only son, you know.' - -'Oh, yes; I know his position in that respect; an only son, and his -father's heir; and a very fine fellow, he is. You have but one son, Lady -Arabella, and you may well be proud of him.' - -Lady Arabella sighed. She did not wish at the present moment to -express herself as being in any way proud of Frank. She was desirous -rather, on the other hand, of showing that she was a good deal ashamed -of him; only not quite so much ashamed of him as it behoved the doctor -to be of his niece.' - -'Well, perhaps so; yes,' said Lady Arabella, 'he is, I believe, a very -good young man, with an excellent disposition; but, doctor, his -position is very precarious; and he is just at that time of life when -caution is necessary.' - -To the doctor's ears, Lady Arabella was now talking of her son as a -mother might of her infant when whooping-cough was abroad our croup -imminent. 'There is nothing on earth the matter with him, I should -say,' said the doctor. 'He has every possible sign of perfect health.' - -'Oh yes; his health! Yes, thank God, his health is good; that is a -great blessing.' And Lady Arabella thought of her four flowerets that -had already faded. 'I am sure I am most thankful to see him growing up -so strong. But it is not that I mean, doctor.' - -'Then what is it, Lady Arabella?' - -'Why, doctor, the squire's position with regard to money matters.' - -Now the doctor undoubtedly did know the squire's position with regard -to money matters,--knew it much better than Lady Arabella; but he was by -no means inclined to talk on that subject to her ladyship. He remained -quite silent, therefore, although Lady Arabella's last speech had taken -the form of a question. Lady Arabella was a little offended at this -want of freedom on his part, and become somewhat sterner in her tone--a -thought less condescending in her manner. - -'The squire has unfortunately embarrassed the property, and Frank must -look forward to inherit it with very heavy encumbrances; I fear very -heavy indeed, though of what exact nature I am kept in ignorance.' - -Looking at the doctor's face, she perceived that there was no -probability whatever that her ignorance would be enlightened by him. - -'And, therefore, it is highly necessary that Frank should be very -careful.' - -'As to his private expenditure, you mean?' said the doctor. - -'No; not exactly that: though of course he must be careful as to that, -too; that's of course. But that is not what I mean, doctor; his only -hope of retrieving his circumstances is by marrying money.' - -'With every other conjugal blessing that a man can have, I hope he may -have that also.' So the doctor replied with imperturbable face; but -not the less did he begin to have a shade of suspicion of what might be -the coming subject of the conference. It would be untrue to say that -he had ever thought it probable that the young heir should fall in love -with his niece; that he had ever looked forward to such a chance, -either with complacency or with fear; nevertheless, the idea had of -late passed through his mind. Some word had fallen from Mary, some -closely watched expression of her eye, or some quiver in her lip when -Frank's name was mentioned, had of late made him involuntarily think -that such a thing might not be impossible; and then, when the chance of -Mary becoming the heiress to so large a fortune had been forced upon -his consideration, he had been unable to prevent himself from building -happy castles in the air, as he rode slowly home from Boxall Hill. But -not a whit the more on that account was he prepared to be untrue to the -squire's interest or to encourage a feeling which must be distasteful -to all the squire's friends. - -'Yes, doctor; he must marry money.' - -'And worth, Lady Arabella; and a pure feminine heart; and youth and -beauty. I hope he will marry them all.' - -Could it be possible, that in speaking of a pure feminine heart, and -youth and beauty, and such like gewgaws, the doctor was thinking of his -niece? Could it be that he had absolutely made up his mind to foster -and encourage this odious match? - -The bare idea made Lady Arabella wrathful, and her wrath gave her -courage. 'He must marry money, or he will be a ruined man. Now, -doctor, I am informed that things--words that is--have passed between -him and Mary which never ought to have been allowed.' - -And now the doctor was wrathful. 'What things? what words?' said he, -appearing to Lady Arabella as though he rose in his anger nearly a foot -in altitude before her eyes. 'What has passed between them? and who -says so?' - -'Doctor, there have been love-makings, you may take my word for it; -love-makings of a very, very advanced description.' - -This, the doctor could not stand. No, not for Greshamsbury and its -heir; not for the squire and all his misfortunes; not for Lady Arabella -and the blood of the De Courcys could he stand quiet and hear Mary -accused. He sprang up another foot in height, and expanded equally in -width as he flung back the insinuation. - -'Who says so? Whoever says so, whoever speaks of Miss Thorne in such -language, says what is not true. I will pledge my word--' - -'My dear doctor, my dear doctor, what took place was quite clearly -heard; there was no mistake about it, indeed.' - -'What took place? What was heard?' - -'Well, then, I don't want, you know, to make more of it than can be -helped. The thing must be stopped, that is all.' - -'What thing? Speak out, Lady Arabella. I will not have Mary's conduct -impugned by innuendoes. What is that eavesdroppers have heard?' - -Dr Thorne, there have been no eavesdroppers.' - -'And not talebearers either? Will you ladyship oblige me by letting me -know what is this accusation which you bring against my niece?' - -'There has been most positively an offer made, Dr Thorne.' - -'And who made it?' - -'Oh, of course I am not going to say but what Frank must have been very -imprudent. Of course he has been to blame. There has been fault on -both sides, no doubt.' - -'I utterly deny it. I positively deny it. I know nothing of the -circumstances; have heard nothing about it--' - -'Then of course you can't say,' said Lady Arabella. - -'I know nothing of the circumstance; have heard nothing about it,' -continued Dr Thorne; 'but I do know my niece, and am ready to assert -that there has not been fault on both sides. Whether there has been any -fault on any side, that I do not know.' - -'I can assure you, Dr Thorne, that an offer was made by Frank; such an -offer cannot be without its allurements to a young lady circumstanced -like your niece.' - -'Allurements!' almost shouted the doctor, and, as he did so, Lady -Arabella stepped back a pace or two, retreating from the fire which -shot out of his eyes. 'But the truth is, Lady Arabella, you do not -know my niece. If you will have the goodness to let me understand what -it is that you desire I will tell you whether I can comply with your -wishes.' - -'Of course it will be very inexpedient that the young people should be -thrown together again;--for the present, I mean.' - -'Well!' - -'Frank has now gone to Courcy Castle; and he talks of going from thence -to Cambridge. But he will doubtless be here, backwards and forwards; -and perhaps it will be better for all parties--safer, that is, doctor--if -Miss Thorne were to discontinue her visits to Greshamsbury for a -while.' - -'Very well!' thundered out the doctor. 'Her visits to Greshamsbury -shall be discontinued.' - -'Of course, doctor, this won't change intercourse between us; between -you and the and the family.' - -'Not change it!' said he. 'Do you think that I will break bread in a -house from whence she has been ignominiously banished? Do you think -that I can sit in friendship with those who have spoken of her as you -have now spoken? You have many daughters; what would you say if I -accused them one of them as you have accused her?' - -'Accused, doctor! No, I don't accuse her. But prudence, you know, -does sometimes require us--' - -'Very well; prudence requires you to look after those who belong to -you. And prudence requires me to look after my one lamb. Good -morning, Lady Arabella.' - -'But, doctor, you are not going to quarrel with us? You will come when -we want you; eh! won't you?' - -Quarrel! quarrel with Greshamsbury! Angry as he was, the doctor felt -that he could ill bear to quarrel with Greshamsbury. A man past fifty -cannot easily throw over the ties that have taken twenty years to form, -and wrench himself away from the various close ligatures with which, in -such a period, he has become bound. He could not quarrel with the -squire; he could ill bear to quarrel with Frank; though he now began to -conceive that Frank had used him badly, he could not do so; he could -not quarrel with the children, who had almost been born into his arms; -nor even with the very walls, and trees, and grassy knolls with which -he was so dearly intimate. He could not proclaim himself an enemy to -Greshamsbury; and yet he felt that fealty to Mary required of him that, -for the present, he should put on an enemy's guise. - -'If you want me, Lady Arabella, and send for me, I will come to you; -otherwise, if you please, share the sentence which has been passed on -Mary. I will now wish you good morning.' And then bowing low to her, -he left the room and the house, and sauntered slowly away to his own -home. - -What was he to say to Mary? He walked very slowly, down the -Greshamsbury avenue with his hands clasped behind his back, thinking -over the whole matter; thinking of it, or rather trying to think of -it. When a man's heart is warmly concerned in any matter, it is almost -useless for him to endeavour to think of it. Instead of thinking, he -gives play to his feelings, and feeds his passion by indulging it. -'Allurements!' he said to himself, repeating Lady Arabella's words. 'A -girl circumstanced like my niece! How utterly incapable is such a -woman as that to understand the mind, and the heart, and soul of such a -one as Mary Thorne!' And then his thoughts recurred to Frank. 'It has -been ill done of him; ill done of him: young as he is, he should have -had feeling enough to spared me this. A thoughtless word has been -spoken which will now make her miserable!' And then, as he walked on, -he could not divest his mind of the remembrance of what had passed -between him and Sir Roger. What, if after all, Mary should become the -heiress to all that money? What, if she should become, in fact, the -owner of Greshamsbury? for, indeed it seemed too possible that Sir -Roger's heir would be the owner of Greshamsbury. - -The idea was one which he disliked to entertain, but it would recur to -him again and again. It might be, that a marriage between his niece -and the nominal heir to the estate might be of all the matches the best -for young Gresham to make. How sweet would be the revenge, how -glorious the retaliation on Lady Arabella, if, after what had now been -said, it should come to pass that all the difficulties of Greshamsbury -should be made smooth by Mary's love, and Mary's hand! It was a -dangerous subject on which to ponder. And, as he sauntered down the -road, the doctor did his best to banish it from his mind--not altogether -successfully. - -But as he went he again encountered Beatrice. 'Tell Mary I went up to -her to-day,' said she, 'and that I expect her up here to-morrow. If -she does not come here, I shall be savage.' - -'Do not be savage,' said he, putting out his hand, 'even though she -should not come.' - -Beatrice immediately saw that his manner with her was not playful, and -that his face was serious. 'I was only in joke,' said she; 'of course -I was only joking. But is anything the matter? Is Mary ill?' - -'Oh, no; not ill at all; but she will not be here to-morrow, nor -probably for some time. But, Miss Gresham, you must not be savage with -her.' - -Beatrice tried to interrogate him, but he would not wait to answer her -questions. While she was speaking he bowed to her in his usual -old-fashioned courteous way, and passed on out of hearing. 'She will -not come up for some time,' said Beatrice to herself. 'Then mamma must -have quarrelled with her.' And at once in her heart she acquitted her -friend of all blame in the matter, whatever it might be, and condemned -her mother unheard. - -The doctor, when he arrived in his own house, had in nowise made up his -mind as to the manner in which he would break the matter to Mary; but -by the time that he had reached the drawing-room, he had made up his -mind to this, that he would put off the evil hour till the morrow. He -would sleep on the matter--lie awake on it, more probably--and then at -breakfast, as best he could, tell her what had been said of her. - -Mary that evening was more than usually inclined to be playful. She had -not been quite certain till the morning, whether Frank had absolutely -left Greshamsbury, and had, therefore, preferred the company of Miss -Oriel to going up to the house. There was a peculiar cheerfulness -about her friend Patience, a feeling of satisfaction with the world and -those in it, which Mary always shared with her; and now she had brought -home to the doctor's fireside, in spite of her young troubles, a -smiling face, if not a heart altogether happy. - -'Uncle,' she said at last, 'what makes you so sombre? Shall I read to -you?' - -'No; not to-night, dearest.' - -'Why, uncle; what is the matter?' - -'Nothing, nothing.' - -'Ah, but it is something, and you shall tell me;' getting up, she came -over to his arm-chair, and leant over his shoulder. - -He looked up at her for a minute in silence, and then, getting up from -his chair, passed his arm round her waist, and pressed her closely to -his heart. - -'My darling!' he said, almost convulsively. 'My best own, truest -darling!' and Mary looked up into his face, saw that big tears were -running down his cheeks. - -But still he told her nothing that night. - - - -CHAPTER XV - -COURCY - -When Frank Gresham expressed to his father an opinion that Courcy -Castle was dull, the squire, as may be remembered, did not pretend to -differ from him. To men such as the squire, and such as the squire's -son, Courcy Castle was dull. To what class of men it would not be dull -the author is not prepared to say; but it may be presumed that the De -Courcys found it to their liking, or they would have made it other than -it was. - -The castle itself was a huge brick pile, built in the days of William -III, which, though they were grand for days of the construction of the -Constitution, were not very grand for architecture of a more material -description. It had, no doubt, a perfect right to be called a castle, -as it was entered by a castle-gate which led into a court the porter's -lodge for which was built as it were into the wall; there were attached -to it also two round, stumpy adjuncts, which were, perhaps properly, -called towers, though they did not do much in the way of towering; and, -moreover, along one side of the house, over what would otherwise have -been the cornice, there ran a castellated parapet, through the -assistance of which, the imagination no doubt was intended to supply -the muzzles of defiant artillery. But any artillery which would have so -presented its muzzle must have been very small, and it may be doubted -whether even a bowman could have obtained shelter there. - -The grounds about the castle were not very inviting, nor, as grounds, -very extensive; though, no doubt, the entire domain was such as suited -the importance of so puissant a nobleman as Earl de Courcy. What, -indeed, should have been the park was divided out into various large -paddocks. The surface was flat and unbroken; and though there were -magnificent elm-trees standing in straight lines, like hedgerows, the -timber had not that beautiful, wild, scattered look which generally -gives the great charm to English scenery. - -The town of Courcy--for the place claimed to rank as a town--was in many -particulars like the castle. It was built of dingy-red brick--almost -more brown than red--and was solid, dull-looking, ugly and comfortable. -It consisted of four streets, which were formed by two roads crossing -each other, making at the point of junction a centre for the town. Here -stood the Red Lion; had it been called the brown lion, the nomenclature -would have been more strictly correct; and here, in the old days of -coaching, some life had been wont to stir itself at those house in the -day and night when the Freetraders, Tallyhoes, and Royal Mails changed -their horses. But now there was a railway station a mile and a half -distant, and the moving life of the town of Courcy was confined to the -Red Lion omnibus, which seemed to pass its entire time in going up and -down between the town and the station, quite unembarrassed by any great -weight of passengers. - -There were, so said the Courcyites when away from Courcy, excellent -shops in the place; but they were not the less accustomed, when at home -among themselves, to complain to each other of the vile extortion with -which they were treated by their neighbours. The ironmonger, -therefore, though he loudly asserted that he could beat Bristol in the -quality of his wares in one direction, and undersell Gloucester in -another, bought his tea and sugar on the sly in one of those larger -towns; and the grocer, on the other hand equally distrusted the pots -and pans of home production. Trade, therefore, at Courcy, had not -thriven since the railway opened: and, indeed, had any patient inquirer -stood at the cross through one entire day, counting customers who -entered the neighbouring shops, he might well have wondered that any -shops in Courcy could be kept open. - -And how changed has been the bustle of that once noisy inn to the -present death-like silence of its green courtyard! There, a lame -ostler crawls about with the hands thrust into the capacious pockets of -his jacket, feeding on memory. That weary pair of omnibus jades, and -three sorry posters are all that now grace those stables where horses -used to be stalled in close contiguity by the dozen; where twenty -grains apiece, abstracted from every feed of oats consumed during the -day, would have afforded a daily quart to the lucky pilferer. - -Come, my friend, and discourse with me. Let us know what are thy ideas -of the inestimable benefits which science has conferred on us in these, -our latter days. How dost thou, among others, appreciate railways and -the power of steam, telegraphs, telegrams, and our new expresses? But -indifferently, you say. 'Time was I've zeed vifteen pair o' 'osses go -out of this 'ere yard in vour-and-twenty hour; and now there be'ant -vifteen, no, not ten, in vour-and-twenty days! There was the duik-not -this 'un; he be'ant no gude; but this 'un's vather-why, when he'd come -down the road, the cattle did be a-going, vour days an eend. Here'd be -the tooter and the young gen'lmen, and the governess and the young -leddies, and then the servants-they'd be al'ays the grandest folk of -all--and then the duik and doochess--Lord love 'ee, zur; the money did -fly in them days! But now--' and the feeling of scorn and contempt -which the lame ostler was enabled by his native talent to throw into -the word 'now', was quite as eloquent against the power of steam as -anything that has been spoken at dinners, or written in pamphlets by -the keenest admirers of latter-day lights. - -'Why, luke at this 'ere town,' continued he of the sieve, 'the grass be -a-growing in the very streets;--that can't be no gude. Why, luke 'ee -here, zur; I do be a-standing at this 'ere gateway, just this way, hour -arter hour, and my heyes is hopen mostly;--I zees who's a-coming and -who's a-going. Nobody's a-coming and nobody's a-going; that can't be -no gude. Luke at that there homnibus; why, darn me--' and now, in his -eloquence at this peculiar point, my friend became more loud and -powerful than ever--'why, darn me, if maister harns enough with that -there bus to put hiron on them osses' feet, I'll-be-blowed!' And as he -uttered this hypothetical denunciation on himself he spoke very slowly, -bringing out every word as it were separately, and lowering himself at -his knees at every sound, moving at the same time his right hand up and -down. When he had finished, he fixed his eyes upon the ground, -pointing downwards, as if there was to be the site of his doom if the -curse that he had called down upon himself should ever come to pass; -and then, waiting no further converse, he hobbled away, melancholy, to -his deserted stables. - -Oh, my friend! my poor lame friend! it will avail nothing to tell thee -of Liverpool and Manchester; of the glories of Glasgow, with her -flourishing banks; of London, with its third millions of inhabitants; -of the great things which commerce is doing for this nation of thine! -What is commerce to thee, unless it be commerce in posting on that -worn-out, all but useless great western turnpike-road? There is -nothing left for thee but to be carted away as rubbish--for thee and for -many of us in these now prosperous days; oh, my melancholy, care-ridden -friend! - -Courcy Castle was certainly a dull place to look at, and Frank, in his -former visits, had found that the appearance did not belie the -reality. He had been but little there when the earl had been at -Courcy; and as he had always felt from his childhood a peculiar taste -to the governance of his aunt the countess, this perhaps may have added -to his feeling of dislike. Now, however, the castle was to be fuller -than he had ever before known it; the earl was to be at home; there was -some talk of the Duke of Omnium coming for a day or two, though that -seemed doubtful; there was some faint doubt of Lord Porlock; Mr Moffat, -intent on the coming election--and also, let us hope, on his coming -bliss--was to be one of the guests; and there was also to be the great -Miss Dunstable. - -Frank, however, found that those grandees were not expected quite -immediately. 'I might go back to Greshamsbury for three or four days -as she is not to be here,' he said naively to his aunt, expressing, -with tolerable perspicuity, his feeling, that he regarded his visit to -Courcy Castle quite as a matter of business. But the countess would -hear of no such arrangement. Now that she had got him, she was not -going to let him fall back into the perils of Miss Thorne's intrigues, -or even of Miss Thorne's propriety. 'It is quite essential,' she said, -'that you should be here a few days before her, so that she may see -that you are at home.' Frank did not understand the reasoning; but he -felt himself unable to rebel, and he therefore, remained there, -comforting himself, as best he might, with the eloquence of the -Honourable George, and the sporting humours of the Honourable John. - -Mr Moffat was the earliest arrival of any importance. Frank had not -hitherto made the acquaintance of his future brother-in-law, and there -was, therefore, some little interest in the first interview. Mr Moffat -was shown into the drawing-room before the ladies had gone up to dress, -and it so happened that Frank was there also. As no one else was in -the room but his sister and two of his cousins, he had expected to see -the lovers rush into each other's arms. But Mr Moffat restrained his -ardour, and Miss Gresham seemed contented that he should do so. - -He was a nice, dapper man, rather above the middle height, and -good-looking enough had he had a little more expression in his face. He -had dark hair, very nicely brushed, small black whiskers, and a small -black moustache. His boots were excellently well made, and his hands -were very white. He simpered gently as he took hold of Augusta's -fingers, and expressed a hope that she had been quite will since last -he had the pleasure of seeing her. Then he touched the hands of the -Lady Rosina and the Lady Margaretta. - -'Mr Moffat, allow me to introduce you to my brother?' - -'Most happy, I'm sure,' said Mr Moffat, again putting out his hand, and -allowing it to slip through Frank's grasp, as he spoke in a pretty, -mincing voice: 'Lady Arabella quite well?--and your father, and -sisters? Very warm isn't it?--quite hot in town, I do assure you.' - -'I hope Augusta likes him,' said Frank to himself, arguing on the -subject exactly as his father had done; 'but for an engaged lover he -seems to me to have a very queer way with him.' Frank, poor fellow! who -was of a coarser mould, would, under such circumstances, have been all -for kissing--sometimes, indeed, even under other circumstances. - -Mr Moffat did not do much towards improving the conviviality of the -castle. He was, of course, a good deal intent upon his coming -election, and spent much of his time with Mr Nearthewinde, the -celebrated parliamentary agent. It behoved him to be a good deal at -Barchester, canvassing the electors and undermining, by Mr -Nearthewinde's aid, the mines for blowing him out of his seat, which -were daily being contrived by Mr Closerstil, on behalf of Sir Roger. -The battle was to be fought on the internecine principle, no quarter -being given or taken on either side; and of course this gave Mr Moffat -as much as he knew how to do. - -Mr Closerstil was well known to be the sharpest man at his business in -all England, unless the palm should be given to his great rival Mr -Nearthewinde; and in this instance he was to be assisted in the battle -by a very clever young barrister, Mr Romer, who was an admirer of Sir -Roger's career in life. Some people in Barchester, when they saw Sir -Roger, Closerstil and Mr Romer saunter down the High Street, arm in -arm, declared that it was all up with poor Moffat; but others, in whose -head the bump of veneration was strongly pronounced, whispered to each -other that great shibboleth--the name of the Duke of Omnium--and mildly -asserted it to be impossible that the duke's nominee should be thrown -out. - -Our poor friend the squire did not take much interest in the matter -except in so far that he liked his son-in-law to be in Parliament. Both -the candidates were in his eye equally wrong in their opinions. He had -long since recanted those errors of his early youth, which had cost him -his seat for the county, and had abjured the De Courcy politics. He -was staunch enough as a Tory now that his being so would no longer be -of the slightest use to him; but the Duke of Omnium, and Lord de -Courcy, and Mr Moffat were all Whigs; Whigs, however, differing -altogether in politics from Sir Roger, who belonged to the Manchester -school, and whose pretensions, through some of those inscrutable twists -in modern politics which are quite unintelligible to the minds of -ordinary men outside the circle, were on this occasion secretly -favoured by the high Conservative party. - -How Mr Moffat, who had been brought into the political world by Lord de -Courcy, obtained the weight of the duke's interest I never could -exactly learn. For the duke and the earl did not generally act as -twin-brothers on such occasions. - -There is a great difference in Whigs. Lord de Courcy was a Court Whig, -following the fortunes, and enjoying, when he could get it, the -sunshine of the throne. He was a sojourner at Windsor, and a visitor -at Balmoral. He delighted in gold sticks, and was never so happy as -when holding some cap of maintenance or spur of precedence with due -dignity and acknowledged grace in the presence of all the Court. His -means had been somewhat embarrassed by early extravagance; and, -therefore, as it was to his taste to shine, it suited him to shine at -the cost of the Court rather than at his own. - -The Duke of Omnium was a Whig of a very different calibre. He rarely -went near the presence of majesty, and when he did so, he did it merely -as a disagreeable duty incident to his position. He was very willing -that the Queen should be queen so long as he was allowed to be Duke of -Omnium. Nor had he begrudged Prince Albert any of his honours till he -was called Prince Consort. Then, indeed, he had, to his own intimate -friends, made some remark in three words not flattering to the -discretion of the Prime Minister. The Queen might be queen so long as -he was Duke of Omnium. Their revenues were about the same, with the -exception, that the duke's were his own, and he could do what he liked -with them. This remembrance did not unfrequently present itself to the -duke's mind. In person, he was a plain, thin man, tall, but -undistinguished in appearance, except that there was a gleam of pride -in his eye which seemed every moment to be saying, 'I am the Duke of -Omnium'. He was unmarried, and, if report said true, a great -debauchee; but if so he had always kept his debaucheries decently away -from the eyes of the world, and was not, therefore, open to that loud -condemnation which should fall like a hailstorm round the ears of some -more open sinners. - -Why these two mighty nobles put their heads together in order that the -tailor's son should represent Barchester in Parliament, I cannot -explain. Mr Moffat, was, as has been said, Lord de Courcy's friend; -and it may be that Lord de Courcy was able to repay the duke for his -kindness, as touching Barchester, with some little assistance in the -county representation. - -The next arrival was that of the Bishop of Barchester. A meek, good, -worthy man, much attached to his wife, and somewhat addicted to his -ease. She, apparently, was made in a different mould, and by her -energy and diligence atoned for any want of those qualities which might -be observed in the bishop himself. When asked his opinion, his lordship -would generally reply by saying--'Mrs Proudie and I think so and so.' -But before that opinion was given, Mrs Proudie would take up the tale, -and she, in her more concise manner, was not wont to quote the bishop -as having at all assisted in the consideration of the subject. It was -well known in Barsetshire that no married pair consorted more closely -or more tenderly together; and the example of such conjugal affection -among persons in the upper classes is worth mentioning, as it is -believed by those below them, and too often with truth, that the sweet -bliss of connubial reciprocity is not so common as it should be among -the magnates of the earth. - -But the arrival even of the bishop and his wife did not make the place -cheerful to Frank Gresham, and he began to long for Miss Dunstable, in -order that he might have something to do. He could not get on at all -with Mr Moffat. He had expected that the man would at once have called -him Frank, and that he would have called the man Gustavus; but they did -not even get beyond Mr Moffat and Mr Gresham. 'Very hot in Barchester, -today, very,' was the nearest approach to conversation which Frank -could attain with him; and as far as he, Frank, could see, Augusta -never got much beyond it. There might be tete-a-tete meetings between -them, but, if so, Frank could not detect when they took place; and so, -opening his heart at last to the Honourable George, for the want of -a better confidant, he expressed his opinion that his future -brother-in-law was a muff. - -'A muff--I believe you too. What do you think now? I have been with -him and Nearthewinde in Barchester these three days past, looking up -the electors' wives and daughters, and that kind of thing.' - -'I say, if there is any fun in it you might as well take me with you.' - -'Oh, there is not much fun; they are mostly so slobbered and dirty. A -sharp fellow in Nearthewinde, and knows what he is about well.' - -'Does he look up the wives and daughters too?' - -'Oh, he goes on every tack just as it's wanted. But there was Moffat, -yesterday, in a room behind the milliner's shop near Cuthbert's Gate; I -was with him. The woman's husband is one of the choristers and an -elector, you know, and Moffat went to look for his vote. Now, there -was no one there when we got there but the three young women, the wife, -that is, and her two girls--very pretty women they are too.' - -'I say, George, I'll go and get the chorister's vote for Moffat; I -ought to do it as he's to be my brother-in-law.' - -'But what do you think Moffat said to the women?' - -'Can't guess--he didn't kiss them, did he?' - -'Kiss any of them? No; but he begged to give them his positive -assurance as a gentleman that if he was returned to Parliament he would -vote for an extension of the franchise, and the admission of the Jews -into the Parliament.' - -'Well, he is a muff,' said Frank. - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -MISS DUNSTABLE - -At last the great Miss Dunstable came. Frank, when he heard that the -heiress had arrived, felt some slight palpitation at his heart. He had -not the remotest idea in the world of marrying her; indeed, during the -last week past, absence had so heightened his love for Mary Thorne that -he was more than ever resolved that he would never marry any one but -her. He knew that he had made her a formal offer for her hand, and -that it behoved him to keep to it, let the charms of Miss Dunstable be -what they might; but, nevertheless, he was prepared to go through a -certain amount of courtship, in obedience to his aunt's behests, and he -felt a little nervous at being brought up in that way, face to face, to -do battle with two hundred thousand pounds. - -'Miss Dunstable has arrived,' said his aunt to him, with great -complacency, on his return from an electioneering visit to the beauties -of Barchester which he made with his cousin George on the day after the -conversation which was repeated at the end of the last chapter. 'She -has arrived, and is looking remarkably well; she has quite a distingue -air, and will grace any circle to which she may be introduced. I will -introduce you before dinner, and you can take her out.' - -'I couldn't propose to her tonight, I suppose?' said Frank, -maliciously. - -'Don't talk nonsense, Frank,' said the countess angrily. 'I am doing -what I can for you, and taking on an infinity of trouble to endeavour -to place you in an independent position; and now you talk nonsense to -me.' - -Frank muttered some sort of apology, and then went to prepare himself -for the encounter. - -Miss Dunstable, though she had come by train, had brought with her her -own carriage, her own horses, her own coachman and footman, and her own -maid, of course. She had also brought with her half a score of trunks, -full of wearing apparel; some of them nearly as rich as that wonderful -box which was stolen a short time since from the top of a cab. But she -brought these things, not in the least because she wanted them herself, -but because she had been instructed to do so. - -Frank was a little more than ordinarily careful in dressing. He spoilt -a couple of white neckties before he was satisfied, and was rather -fastidious as the set of his hair. There was not much of the dandy -about him in the ordinary meaning of the word. But he felt that it was -incumbent on him to look his best, seeing what it was expected he -should now do. He certainly did not mean to marry Miss Dunstable; but -as he was to have a flirtation with her, it was well that he should do -so under the best possible auspices. - -When he entered the drawing-room he perceived at once that the lady was -there. She was seated between the countess and Mrs Proudie; and -mammon, in her person, was receiving worship from the temporalities and -spiritualities of the land. He tried to look unconcerned, and remained -in the farther part of the room, talking with some of his cousins; but -he could not keep his eye off the future possible Mrs Frank Gresham; -and it seemed as though she was as much constrained to scrutinize him -as he felt to scrutinize her. - -Lady de Courcy had declared that she was looking extremely well, and -had particularly alluded to her distingue appearance. Frank at once -felt that he could not altogether go along with his aunt in this -opinion. Miss Dunstable might be very well; but her style of beauty -was one which did not quite meet with his warmest admiration. - -In age she was about thirty; but Frank, who was no great judge in these -matters, and who was accustomed to have very young girls round him, at -once put her down as being ten years older. She had a very high colour, -very red cheeks, a large mouth, big white teeth, a broad nose, and -bright, small, black eyes. Her hair also was black and bright, but -very crisp, and strong, and was combed close round her face in small -crisp black ringlets. Since she had been brought out into the -fashionable world some of her instructors in fashion had given her to -understand that curls were not the thing. 'They'll always pass -muster,' Miss Dunstable had replied, 'when they are done up with -bank-notes.' It may therefore be presumed that Miss Dunstable had a -will of her own. - -'Frank,' said the countess, in the most natural and unpremeditated way, -as soon as she caught her nephew's eye, 'come here. I want to -introduce you to Miss Dunstable.' The introduction was then made. 'Mrs -Proudie, would you excuse me? I must positively go and say a few words -to Mrs Barlow, or the poor woman will feel herself huffed'; and so -saying, she moved off, leaving the coast clear for Master Frank. - -He of course slipped into his aunt's place, and expressed a hope that -Miss Dunstable was not fatigued by her journey. - -'Fatigued!' said she, in a voice rather loud, but very good-humoured, -and not altogether unpleasing; 'I am not to be fatigued by such a thing -as that. Why, in May we came through all the way from Rome to Paris -without sleeping--that is, without sleeping in a bed--and we were upset -three times out of the sledges coming over the Simpton. It was such -fun! Why, I wasn't to say tired even then.' - -'All the way from Rome to Paris!' said Mrs Proudie--in a tone of -astonishment, meant to flatter the heiress--'and what made you in such a -hurry?' - -'Something about money matters,' said Miss Dunstable, speaking rather -louder than usual. 'Something to do with the ointment. I was selling -the business just then.' - -Mrs Proudie bowed, and immediately changed the conversation. 'Idolatry -is, I believe, more rampant than ever in Rome,' said she; 'and I fear -there is no such thing at all as Sabbath observance.' - -'Oh, not in the least,' said Miss Dunstable, with rather a joyous air; -'Sundays and week-days are all the same there.' - -'How very frightful!' said Mrs Proudie. - -'But it's a delicious place. I do like Rome, I must say. And as for -the Pope, if he wasn't quite so fat he would be the nicest old fellow -in the world. Have you been in Rome, Mrs Proudie?' - -Mrs Proudie sighed as she replied in the negative, and declared her -belief that danger was apprehended from such visits. - -'Oh!--ah!--the malaria--of course--yes; if you go at the wrong time; but -nobody is such a fool as that now.' - -'I was thinking of the soul, Miss Dunstable,' said the lady-bishop, in -her peculiar grave tone. 'A place where there are no Sabbath -observances--' - -'And have you been at Rome, Mr Gresham?' said the young lady, turning -almost abruptly round to Frank, and giving a somewhat uncivilly cold -shoulder to Mrs Proudie's exhortation. She, poor lady, was forced to -finish her speech to the Honourable George, who was standing near to -her. He having an idea that bishops and all their belongings, like -other things appertaining to religion, should, if possible, be avoided; -but if that were not possible, should be treated with much assumed -gravity, immediately put on a long face, and remarked that--'it was a -deuced shame: for his part he always liked to see people go quiet on -Sundays. The parsons had only one day out of seven, and he thought -they were fully entitled to that.' Satisfied with which, or not -satisfied, Mrs Proudie had to remain silent till dinner-time. - -'No,' said Frank; 'I never was in Rome. I was in Paris once, that's -all.' And then, feeling not unnatural anxiety as to the present state -of Miss Dunstable's worldly concerns, he took an opportunity of falling -back on that part of her conversation which Mrs Proudie had exercised -so much tact in avoiding. - -'And was it sold?' said he. - -'Sold! what sold?' - -'You were saying about the business--that you came back without going to -bed because of selling the business.' - -'Oh!--the ointment. No; it was not sold. After all, the affair did not -come off, and I might have remained and had another roll in the snow. -Wasn't it a pity?' - -'So,' said Frank to himself, 'if I should do it, I should be owner of -the ointment of Lebanon: how odd!' And then he gave her his arm and -handed her down to dinner. - -He certainly found that his dinner was less dull than any other he had -sat down to at Courcy Castle. He did not fancy that he should ever -fall in love with Miss Dunstable; but she certainly was an agreeable -companion. She told him of her tour, and the fun she had in her -journeys; how she took a physician with her for the benefit of her -health, whom she generally was forced to nurse; of the trouble it was -to her to look after and wait upon her numerous servants; of the tricks -she played to bamboozle people who came to stare at her; and, lastly, -she told him of a lover who followed her from country to country, and -was now in hot pursuit of her, having arrived in London the evening -before she left. - -'A lover?' said Frank, somewhat startled by the suddenness of the -confidence. - -'A lover--yes--Mr Gresham; why should I not have a lover?' - -'Oh!--no--of course not. I dare say you have had a good many.' - -'Only three or four, upon my word; that is, only three or four that I -favour. One is not bound to reckon the others, you know.' - -'No, they'd be too numerous. And so you have three whom you favour, -Miss Dunstable;' and Frank sighed, as though he intended to say that -the number was too many for his peace of mind. - -'Is not that quite enough? But of course I change them sometimes;' and -she smiled on him very good-naturedly. 'It would be very dull if I -were always to keep the same.' - -'Very dull indeed,' said Frank, who did not quite know what to say. - -'Do you think the countess would mind my having or two of them here if -I were to ask her?' - -'I am quite sure she would,' said Frank, very briskly. 'She would not -approve of it; nor should I.' - -'You--why, what have you to do with it?' - -'A great deal--so much so that I positively forbid it; but, Miss -Dunstable--' - -'Well, Mr Gresham?' - -'We will contrive to make up for the deficiency as well as possible, if -you will permit us to do so. Now for myself--' - -'Well, for yourself?' - -At this moment the countess gleamed her accomplished eye round the -table, and Miss Dunstable rose from her chair as Frank was preparing -his attack, and accompanied the other ladies into the drawing-room. - -His aunt, as she passed him, touched his arm lightly with her fan, so -lightly that the action was perceived by no one else. But Frank well -understood the meaning of the touch, and appreciated the approbation -which it conveyed. He merely blushed however at his own dissimulation; -for he felt more certain that ever that he would never marry Miss -Dunstable, and he felt nearly equally sure that Miss Dunstable would -never marry him. - -Lord de Courcy was now at home; but his presence did not add much -hilarity to the claret-cup. The young men, however, were very keen -about the election, and Mr Nearthewinde, who was one of the party, was -full of the most sanguine hopes. - -'I have done a good one at any rate,' said Frank; 'I have secured the -chorister's vote.' - -'What! Bagley?' said Neathewinde. 'The fellow kept out of my way, and -I couldn't see him.' - -'I haven't exactly seen him,' said Frank; 'but I've got his vote all -the same.' - -'What! by a letter?' said Mr Moffat. - -'No, not by letter,' said Frank, speaking rather low as he looked at -the bishop and the earl; 'I got a promise from his wife: I think he's a -little in the henpecked line.' - -'Ha--ha--ha!' laughed the good bishop, who, in spite of Frank's -modulation of voice, had overheard what had passed. 'Is that the way -you manage electioneering matters in our cathedral city?' The idea of -one of his choristers being in the henpecked line was very amusing to -the bishop. - -'Oh, I got a distinct promise,' said Frank, in his pride; and then -added incautiously, 'but I had to order bonnets for the whole family.' - -'Hush-h-h-h!' said Mr Nearthewinde, absolutely flabbergasted by such -imprudence on the part of one of his client's friends. 'I am quite -sure that you order had no effect, and was intended to have no effect -on Mr Bagley's vote.' - -'Is that wrong?' said Frank; 'upon my word I thought it was quite -legitimate.' - -'One should never admit anything in electioneering matters, should -one?' said George, turning to Mr Nearthewinde. - -'Very little, Mr de Courcy; very little indeed--the less the better. -It's hard to say in these days what is wrong and what is not. Now, -there's Reddypalm, the publican, the man who has the Brown Bear. Well, -I was there, of course: he's a voter, and if any man in Barchester -ought to feel himself bound to vote for a friend of the duke's he -ought. Now, I was so thirsty when I was in that man's house, that I -was dying for a glass of beer; but for the life of me I didn't dare -order one.' - -'Why not?' said Frank, whose mind was only just beginning to be -enlightened by the great doctrine of purity of election as practised in -English provincial towns. - -'Oh, Closerstil had some fellow looking at me; why, I can't walk down -that town without having my very steps counted. I like sharp fighting -myself, but I never go so sharp as that.' - -'Nevertheless I got Bagley's vote,' said Frank, persisting in praise of -his own electioneering prowess; 'and you may be sure of this, Mr -Nearthewinde, none of Closerstil's men were looking at me when I got -it.' - -'Who'll pay for the bonnets, Frank?' said George. - -'Oh, I'll pay for them if Moffat won't. I think I shall keep an -account there; they seem to have good gloves and those sort of things.' - -'Very good, I have no doubt,' said George. - -'I suppose your lordship will be in town soon after the meeting of -Parliament?' said the bishop, questioning the earl. - -'Oh! yes; I suppose I must be there. I am never allowed to remain very -long in the quiet. It is a great nuisance; but it is too late to think -of that now.' - -'Men in high places, my lord, never were, and never will be, allowed to -consider themselves. They burn their torches not in their own behalf,' -said the bishop, thinking, perhaps, as much of himself as he did of his -noble friend. 'Rest and quiet are the comforts of those who have been -content to remain in obscurity.' - -'Perhaps so,' said the earl, finishing his glass of claret with an air -of virtuous resignation. 'Perhaps so.' His own martyrdom, however, -had not been severe, for the rest and quiet of home had never been -peculiarly satisfactory to his tastes. Soon after this they went to the -ladies. - -It was some little time before Frank could find an opportunity of -recommencing his allotted task with Miss Dunstable. She got into -conversation with the bishop and with some other people, and, except -that he took her teacup and nearly managed to squeeze one of her -fingers as she did so, he made very little further progress till -towards the close of the evening. - -At last he found her so nearly alone as to admit of his speaking to her -in a low confidential voice. - -'Have you managed that matter with my aunt?' - -'What matter?' said Miss Dunstable; and her voice was not low, nor -particularly confidential. - -'About those three or four gentlemen whom you wish to invite here?' - -'Oh! my attendant knights! no, indeed; you gave me such very slight -hope of success; besides, you said something about my not wanting -them.' - -'Yes I did; I really think they'd be quite unnecessary. If you should -want any one to defend you--' - -'At these coming elections, for instance.' - -'Then, or at any other time, there are plenty here who will be ready to -stand up for you.' - -'Plenty! I don't want plenty: one good lance in the olden days was -always worth more than a score of ordinary men-at-arms.' - -'But you talked about three or four.' - -'Yes; but then you see, Mr Gresham, I have never yet found the one good -lance--at least, not good enough to suit my ideas of true prowess.' - -What could Frank do but declare that he was ready to lay his own -in rest, now and always in her behalf? - -His aunt had been quite angry with him, and had thought that he turned -her into ridicule, when he spoke of making an offer to her guest that -very evening; and yet here he was so placed that he had hardly an -alternative. Let his inward resolution to abjure the heiress be ever -so strong, he was now in a position which allowed him no choice in the -matter. Even Mary Thorne could hardly have blamed him for saying, that -so far as his own prowess went, it was quite at Miss Dunstable's -service. Had Mary been looking on, she perhaps, might have thought -that he could have done so with less of that look of devotion which he -threw into his eyes. - -'Well, Mr Gresham, that's very civil--very civil indeed,' said Miss -Dunstable. 'Upon my word, if a lady wanted a true knight she might do -worse than trust to you. Only I fear that your courage is of so -exalted a nature that you would be ever ready to do battle for any -beauty that might be in distress--or, indeed, who might not. You could -never confine your valour to the protection of one maiden.' - -'Oh, yes! but I would though if I liked her,' said Frank. 'There isn't -a more constant fellow in the world than I am in that way--you try me, -Miss Dunstable.' - -'When young ladies make such trials as that, they sometimes find it too -late to go back if the trial doesn't succeed, Mr Gresham.' - -'Oh, of course, there's always some risk. It's like hunting; there -would be no fun if there was no danger.' - -'But if you get a tumble one day you can retrieve your honour the next; -but a poor girl if she once trusts a man who says that he loves her, -has no such chance. For myself, I would never listen to a man unless -I'd known him for seven years at least.' - -'Seven years!' said Frank, who could not help thinking that in seven -years' time Miss Dunstable would be almost an old woman. 'Seven days is -enough to know any person.' - -'Or perhaps seven hours; eh, Mr Gresham?' - -'Seven hours--well, perhaps seven hours, if they happen to be a good -deal together during that time.' - -'There's nothing after all like love at first sight, is there, Mr -Gresham?' - -Frank knew well enough that she was quizzing him, and could not resist -the temptation he felt to be revenged on her. 'I am sure it's very -pleasant,' said he; 'but as for myself, I have never experienced it.' - -'Ha, ha, ha!' laughed Miss Dunstable. 'Upon my word, Mr Gresham, I -like you amazingly. I didn't expect to meet anybody down here that I -could like half so much. You must come and see me in London, and I'll -introduce you to my three knights,' and so saying, she moved away and -fell into conversation with some of the higher powers. - -Frank felt himself to be rather snubbed, in spite of the strong -expression which Miss Dunstable had made in his favour. It was not -quite clear to him that she did not take him for a boy. He was, to be -sure, avenged on her for that by taking her for a middle-aged woman; -but, nevertheless, he was hardly satisfied with himself; 'and she might -find afterwards that she was left in the lurch with all her money.' And -so he retired, solitary, into a far part of the room, and began to -think of Mary Thorne. As he did so, and as his eyes fell upon Miss -Dunstable's stiff curls, he almost shuddered. - -And then the ladies retired. His aunt, with a good-natured smile on -her face, come to him as she was leaving the room, the last of the -bevy, and putting her hand on his arm, led him out into a small -unoccupied chamber which opened from the grand saloon. - -'Upon my word, Master Frank,' said she, 'you seem to be losing no time -with the heiress. You have quite made an impression already.' - -'I don't know much about that, aunt,' said he, looking rather sheepish. - -'Oh, I declare you have; but, Frank, my dear boy, you should not -precipitate these sort of things too much. It is well to take a little -more time: it is more valued; and perhaps, you know, on the whole--' - -Perhaps Frank might know; but it was clear that Lady de Courcy did not: -at any rate, she did not know how to express herself. Had she said out -her mind plainly, she would probably have spoken thus: 'I want you to -make love to Miss Dunstable, certainly; or at any rate to make an offer -to her; but you need not make a show of yourself and of her, by doing -it so openly as all that.' The countess, however, did not want to -reprimand her obedient nephew, and therefore did not speak out her -thoughts. - -'Well?' said Frank, looking up into her face. - -'Take a leetle more time--that is all, my dear boy; slow and sure, you -know,' so the countess again patted his arm and went away to bed. - -'Old fool!' muttered Frank to himself, as he returned to the room where -the men were still standing. He was right in this: she was an old -fool, or she would have seen that there was no chance whatever that her -nephew and Miss Dunstable should become man and wife. - -'Well Frank,' said the Honourable John; 'so you're after the heiress -already.' - -'He won't give any of us a chance,' said the Honourable George. 'If he -goes on in that way she'll be Mrs Gresham before a month is over. But, -Frank, what will she say of your manner of looking for Barchester -votes?' - -'Mr Gresham is certainly an excellent hand at canvassing,' said Mr -Nearthewinde; 'only a little too open in his manner of proceeding.' - -'I got that chorister for you at any rate,' said Frank. 'And you would -never have had him without me.' - -'I don't think half so much of the chorister's vote as that of Miss -Dunstable,' said the Honourable George: 'that's the interest that is -really worth looking after.' - -'But, surely,' said Mr Moffat, 'Miss Dunstable has not property in -Barchester?' Poor man! his heart was so intent on his election that he -had no a moment to devote to the claims of love. - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE ELECTION - -And now the important day of the election had arrived, and some men's -hearts beat quickly enough. To be or not to a member of the British -Parliament is a question of very considerable moment in a man's mind. -Much is often said of the great penalties which the ambitious pay for -enjoying this honour; of the tremendous expenses of election; of the -long, tedious hours of unpaid labour: of the weary days passed in the -House; but, nevertheless, the prize is one very well worth the price -paid for it--well worth any price that can be paid for it short of -wading through dirt and dishonour. - -No other great European nation has anything like it to offer to the -ambition of its citizens; for in no other great country of Europe, not -even in those which are free, has the popular constitution obtained, as -with us, true sovereignty and power of rule. Here it is so; and when a -man lays himself out to be a member of Parliament, he plays the highest -game and for the highest stakes which the country affords. - -To some men, born silver-spooned, a seat in Parliament comes as a -matter of course. From the time of their early manhood they hardly -know what it is not to sit there; and the honour is hardly appreciated, -being too much a matter of course. As a rule, they never know how -great a thing it is to be in Parliament; though, when reverse comes, as -reverses occasionally will come, they fully feel how dreadful it is to -be left out. - -But to men aspiring to be members, or to those who having been once -fortunate have again to fight the battle without assurance of success, -the coming election must be matter of dread concern. Of, how -delightful to hear that the long-talked of rival has declined the -contest, and that the course is clear! or to find by a short canvass -that one's majority is safe, and the pleasures of crowing over an -unlucky, friendless foe quite secured! - -No such gratification as this filled the bosom of Mr Moffat on the -morning of the Barchester election. To him had been brought no -positive assurance of success by his indefatigable agent, Mr -Nearthewinde. It was admitted on all sides that the contest would be a -very close one; and Mr Nearthewinde would not do more than assert that -they ought to win unless things went wrong with them. - -Mr Nearthewinde had other elections to attend to, and had not been -remaining at Courcy Castle ever since the coming of Miss Dunstable: but -he had been there, and at Barchester, as often as possible, and Mr -Moffat was made greatly uneasy by reflecting how very high the bill -would be. - -The two parties had outdone each other in the loudness of their -assertions, that each would on his side conduct the election in strict -conformity to law. There was to be no bribery. Bribery! who indeed in -these days would dare to bribe; to give absolute money for an absolute -vote, and pay for such an article in downright palpable sovereigns? -No. Purity was much too rampant for that, and the means of detection -too well understood. But purity was to be carried much further than -this. There should be no treating; no hiring of two hundred votes to -act as messengers at twenty shillings a day in looking up some four -hundred other voters; no bands were to be paid for; no carriages -furnished; no ribbons supplied. British voters were to vote, if vote -they would, for the love and respect they bore to their chosen -candidate. If so actuated, they would not vote, they might stay away; -no other inducement would be offered. - -So much was said loudly--very loudly--by each party; but, nevertheless, -Mr Moffat, early in these election days, began to have some misgivings -about the bill. The proclaimed arrangement had been one exactly -suitable to his taste; for Mr Moffat loved his money. He was a man in -whose breast the ambition of being great in the world, and of joining -himself to aristocratic people was continually at war with the great -cost which such tastes occasioned. His last election had not been a -cheap triumph. In one way or another money had been dragged from him -for purposes which had been to his mind unintelligible; and when, about -the middle of his first session, he had, with much grumbling, settled -all demands, he had questioned with himself whether his whistle was -worth its cost. - -He was therefore a great stickler for purity of election; although, had -he considered the matter, he should have known that with him money was -his only passport into that Elysium in which he had now lived for two -years. He probably did not consider it; for when, in those canvassing -days immediately preceding the election, he had seen that all the -beer-houses were open, and half the population was drunk, he had asked -Mr Nearthewinde whether this violation of the treaty was taking place -only on the part of the opponent, and whether, in such case, it would -not by duly noticed with a view to a possible petition. - -Mr Nearthewinde assured him triumphantly that half at least of the -wallowing swine were his own especial friends; and that somewhat more -than half of the publicans of the town were eagerly engaged in fighting -his, Mr Moffat's battle. Mr Moffat groaned, and would have -expostulated had Mr Nearthewinde been willing to hear him. But that -gentleman's services had been put into requisition by Lord De Courcy -rather than by the candidate. For the candidate he cared but little. -To pay the bill would be enough for him. He, Mr Nearthewinde, was -doing his business as he well knew how to do it; and it was not likely -that he should submit to be lectured by such as Mr Moffat on a trumpery -score of expense. - -It certainly did appear on the morning of the election as though some -great change had been made in that resolution of the candidates to be -very pure. From and early hour rough bands of music were to be heard -in every part of the usually quiet town; carts and gigs, omnibuses and -flys, all the old carriages from all the inn-yards, and every vehicle -of any description which could be pressed into the service were in -motion; if the horses and post-boys were not to be paid for by the -candidates, the voters themselves were certainly very liberal in their -mode of bringing themselves to the poll. The election district of the -city of Barchester extended for some miles on each side of the city, so -that the omnibuses and flys had enough to do. Beer was to be had at -the public-houses, almost without question, by all who chose to ask -for it; and rum and brandy were dispensed to select circles within the -bars with equal profusion. As for ribbons, the mercers' shops must -have been emptied of that article, as far as scarlet and yellow were -concerned. Scarlet was Sir Roger's colour, while the friends of Mr -Moffat were decked with yellow. Seeing what he did see, Mr Moffat -might well ask whether there had not been a violation of the treaty of -purity! - -At the time of this election there was some question whether England -should go to war with all her energy; or whether it would not be better -for her to save her breath to cool her porridge, and not meddle more -than could be helped with foreign quarrels. The last view of the -matter was advocated by Sir Roger, and his motto of course proclaimed -the merits of domestic peace and quiet. 'Peace abroad and a big loaf at -home', was consequently displayed on four or five huge scarlet banners, -and carried waving over the heads of the people. But Mr Moffat was a -staunch supporter of the Government, who were already inclined to be -belligerent, and 'England's honour' was therefore the legend under -which he selected to do battle. It may, however, be doubted whether -there was in all Barchester one inhabitant--let alone one elector--so -fatuous to suppose that England's honour was in any special manner dear -to Mr Moffat; or that he would be whit more sure of a big loaf than he -was now, should Sir Roger happily become a member of the legislature. - -And then the fine arts were resorted to, seeing that language fell -short in telling all that was found necessary to be told. Poor Sir -Roger's failing as regards the bottle were too well known; and it was -also known that, in acquiring this title, he had not quite laid aside -the rough mode of speech which he had used in his early years. There -was, consequently, a great daub painted up on sundry walls, on which a -navvy, with a pimply, bloated face, was to be seen standing on a -railway bank, leaning on a spade holding a bottle in one hand, while he -invited a comrade to drink. 'Come, Jack, shall us have a drop of -some'at short?' were the words coming out of the navvy's mouth; and -under this was painted in huge letters, - -THE LAST NEW BARONET - -But Mr Moffat hardly escaped on easier terms. The trade by which his -father had made his money was as well known as that of the railway -contractor; and every possible symbol of tailordom was displayed in -graphic portraiture on the walls and hoardings of the city. He was -drawn with his goose, his scissors, with his needle, with his tapes; he -might be seen measuring, cutting, pressing, carrying home his bundle -and presenting his little bill; and under each of these representations -was repeated his own motto: 'England's honour'. - -Such were the pleasant little amenities with which the people of -Barchester greeted the two candidates who were desirous of the honour -of serving them in Parliament. - -The polling went briskly and merrily. There were somewhat above nine -hundred registered voters, of whom the greater portion recorded their -votes early in the day. At two o'clock, according to Sir Roger's -committee, the numbers were as follows:-- - - Scatcherd 275 - Moffat 268 - -Whereas, by the light afforded by Mr Moffat's people, they stood in a -slightly different ratio to each other, being written thus:-- - - Moffat 277 - Scatcherd 269 - -This naturally heightened the excitement, and gave additional delight -to the proceedings. At half-past two it was agreed by both sides that -Mr Moffat was ahead; the Moffatites claiming a majority of twelve, and -the Scatcherdites allowing a majority of one. But by three o'clock -sundry good men and true, belonging to the railway interest, had made -their way to the booth in spite of the efforts of a band of roughs from -Courcy, and Sir Roger was again leading, by ten or a dozen, according -to his own showing. - -One little transaction which took place in the earlier part of the day -deserves to be recorded. There was in Barchester an honest -publican--honest as the world of publicans goes--who not only was -possessed of a vote, but possessed of a son who was a voter. He was -one Reddypalm in earlier days, before he had learned to appreciate the -full value of an Englishman's franchise, he had been a declared Liberal -and a friend of Roger Scatcherd's. In latter days he had governed his -political feelings with more decorum, and had not allowed himself to be -carried away by such foolish fervour as he had evinced in his youth. On -this special occasion, however, his line of conduct was so mysterious -as for a while to baffle even those who knew him best. - -His house was apparently open in Sir Roger's interest. Beer, at any -rate, was flowing there as elsewhere; and scarlet ribbons going in--not -perhaps, in a state of perfect steadiness--came out more unsteady than -before. Still had Mr Reddypalm been deaf to the voice of that charmer, -Closerstil, though he had charmed with all his wisdom. Mr Reddypalm -had stated, first his unwillingness to vote at all:--he had, he said, -given over politics, and was not inclined to trouble his mind again -with the subject; then he had spoken of his great devotion to the Duke -of Omnium, under whose grandfathers his grandfather had been bred: Mr -Nearthewinde had, as he said, been with him, and proved to him beyond a -shadow of a doubt that it would show the deepest ingratitude on his -part to vote against the duke's candidate. - -Mr Closerstil thought he understood all this, and sent more, and still -more men to drink beer. He even caused--taking infinite trouble to -secure secrecy in the matter--three gallons of British brandy to be -ordered and paid for as the best French. But, nevertheless, Mr -Reddypalm made no sign to show that he considered that the right thing -had been done. On the evening before the election, he told one of Mr -Closerstil's confidential men, that he had thought a good deal about -it, and that he believed he should be constrained by his conscience to -vote for Mr Moffat. - -We have said that Mr Closerstil was accompanied by a learned friend of -his, one Mr Romer, a barrister, who was greatly interested in Sir -Roger, and who, being a strong Liberal, was assisting in the canvass -with much energy. He, hearing how matters were likely to go with this -conscientious publican, and feeling himself peculiarly capable of -dealing with such delicate scruples, undertook to look into the case in -hand. Early, therefore, on the morning of the election, he sauntered -down the cross street in which hung out the sign of the Brown Bear, -and, as he expected, found Mr Reddypalm near his own door. - -Now it was quite an understood thing that there was to be no bribery. -This was understood by no one better than Mr Romer, who had, in truth, -drawn up many of the published assurances to that effect. And, to give -him his due, he was fully minded to act in accordance with these -assurances. The object of all the parties was to make it worth the -voters' while to give their votes; but to do so without bribery. Mr -Romer had repeatedly declared that he would have nothing to do with any -illegal practising; but he had also declared that, as long as all was -done according to law, he was ready to lend his best efforts to assist -Sir Roger. How he assisted Sir Roger, and adhered to the law, will now -be seen. - -Oh, Mr Romer! Mr Romer! is it not the case with thee that thou -'wouldst not play false, and yet wouldst wrongly win?' Not in -electioneering, Mr Romer, any more than in any other pursuits, can a -man touch pitch and not be defiled; as thou, innocent as thou art, wilt -soon learn to thy terrible cost. - -'Well, Reddypalm,' said Mr Romer, shaking hands with him. Mr Romer had -not been equally cautious as Neatherwinde, and had already drunk sundry -glasses of ale at the Brown Bear, in the hope of softening the stern -Bear-warden. 'How is it to-day? Which is to be the man?' - -'If any one knows that, Mr Romer, you must be the man. A poor -numbskull like me knows nothing of them matters. How should I? All I -looks to, Mr Romer, is selling a trifle of drink now and then--selling -it, and getting paid for it, you know, Mr Romer.' - -'Yes, that's important, no doubt. But come, Reddypalm, such an old -friend as Sir Roger as you are, a man he speaks of as one of his -intimate friends, I wonder how you can hesitate about it? Now with -another man, I should think that he wanted to be paid for voting--' - -'Oh, Mr Romer! fie--fie--fie!' - -'I know it's not the case with you. It would be an insult to offer you -money, even if money were going. I should not mention this, only as -money is not going, neither, on our side nor on the other, no harm can -be done.' - -'Mr Romer, if you speak of such a thing, you'll hurt me. I know the -value of an Englishman's franchise too well to wish to sell it. I -would not demean myself so low; no, not though five-and-twenty pound a -vote was going, as there was in the good old times--and that's not so -long either.' - -'I am sure you wouldn't, Reddypalm; I'm sure you wouldn't. But an -honest man like you should stick to old friends. Now, tell me,' and -putting his arm through Reddypalm's, he walked with him into the -passage of his own house; 'Now, tell me--is there anything wrong? It's -between friends, you know. Is there anything wrong?' - -'I wouldn't sell my vote for untold gold,' said Reddypalm, who was -perhaps aware that untold gold would hardly be offered to him for it. - -'I am sure you would not,' said Mr Romer. - -'But,' said Reddypalm, 'a man likes to be paid his little bill.' - -'Surely, surely,' said the barrister. - -'And I did say two years since, when your friend Mr Closerstil brought -a friend of his down to stand here--it wasn't Sir Roger then--but when -he brought a friend of his down, and when I drew two or three hogsheads -of ale on their side, and when my bill was questioned, and only -half-settled, I did say that I wouldn't interfere with no election no -more. And no more I will, Mr Romer--unless it be to give a quiet vote -for the nobleman under whom I and mine always lived respectable.' - -'Oh!' said Mr Romer. - -'A man do like to have his bill paid, you know, Mr Romer.' - -Mr Romer could not but acknowledge that this was a natural feeling on -the part of an ordinary mortal publican. - -'It goes agin the grain with a man not to have his little bill paid, -and specially at election time,' again urged Mr Reddypalm. - -Mr Romer had not much time to think about it; but he knew well that -matters were so nearly balanced, that the votes of Mr Reddypalm and his -son were of inestimable value. - -'If it's only about your bill,' said Mr Romer, 'I'll see to have it -settled. I'll speak to Closerstil about that.' - -'All right!' said Reddypalm, seizing the young barrister's hand, and -shaking it warmly; 'all right!' And late in the afternoon when a vote -or two became matter of intense interest, Mr Reddypalm and his son came -up to the hustings and boldly tendered theirs for their old friend Sir -Roger. - -There was a great deal of eloquence heard in Barchester on that day. -Sir Roger had by this time so far recovered as to be able to go through -the dreadfully hard work of canvassing and addressing the electors from -eight in the morning till near sunset. A very perfect recovery, most -men will say. Yes; a perfect recovery as regarded the temporary use of -his faculties, both physical and mental; though it may be doubted -whether there can be any permanent recovery from such a disease as -his. What amount of brandy he consumed to enable him to perform this -election work, and what lurking evil effect the excitement have on -him--of these matters no record was kept in the history of those -proceedings. - -Sir Roger's eloquence was of a rough kind; but not perhaps the less -operative on those for whom it was intended. The aristocracy of -Barchester consisted chiefly of clerical dignitaries, bishops, deans, -prebendaries, and such like: on them and theirs it was not probable -that anything said by Sir Roger would have much effect. Those men -would either abstain from voting, or vote for the railway hero, with -the view of keeping out the De Courcy candidate. Then came the -shopkeepers, who might also be regarded as a stiff-necked generation, -impervious to electioneering eloquence. They would, generally, support -Mr Moffat. But there was an inferior class of voters, ten-pound -freeholders, and such like, who, at this period, were somewhat given to -have an opinion of their own, and over them it was supposed that Sir -Roger did obtain some power by his gift of talking. - -'Now, gentlemen, will you tell me this,' said he, bawling at the top of -his voice from the portico which graced the door of the Dragon of -Wantley, at which celebrated inn Sir Roger's committee sat:--'Who is Mr -Moffat, and what has he done for us? There have been some -picture-makers about the town this week past. The Lord knows who they -are; I don't. These clever fellows do tell you who I am, and what I've -done. I ain't very proud of the way they've painted me, though there's -something about it I ain't ashamed of either. See here,' and he held -up on one side of him one of the great daubs oh himself--'just hold it -there till I can explain it,' and, he handed the paper to one of his -friends. 'That's me,' said Sir Roger, putting up his stick, and -pointing to the pimply-nosed representation of himself. - -'Hurrah! Hur-r-rah! more power to you--we all know who you are, -Roger. You're the boy! When did you get drunk last?' Such-like -greetings, together with a dead cat which was flung at him from the -crowd, and which he dexterously parried with his stick, were the -answers which he received to this exordium. - -'Yes,' said he, quite undismayed by this little missile which had so -nearly reached him: 'that's me. And look here; this brown, -dirty-looking broad streak here is intended for a railway; and that -thing in my hand--not the right hand; I'll come to that presently--' - -'How about the brandy, Roger?' - -'I'll come to that presently. I'll tell you about the brandy in good -time. But that thing in my left hand is a spade. Now, I never handled -a spade, and never could; but, boys, I handled a chisel and mallet; and -many a hundred block of stone has come out smooth from under that -hand;' and Sir Roger lifted up his great broad palm wide open. - -'So you did, Roger, and well we minds it.' - -'The meaning, however, of that spade is to show that I made the -railway. Now I'm very much obliged to those gentlemen over at the -White Horse for putting up this picture of me. It's a true picture, -and it tells you who I am. I did make that railway. I have made -thousands of miles of railway; I am making thousands of miles -railways--some in Europe, some in Asia, some in America. It's a true -picture,' and he poked his stick right through it and held it up to the -crowd. 'A true picture: but for that spade and that railway, I -shouldn't be now here asking your votes; and, when next February comes, -I shouldn't be sitting in Westminster to represent you, as by God's -grace, I certainly will do. That tells you who I am. But now, will -you tell me who Mr Moffat is?' - -'How about the brandy, Roger?' - -'Oh, yes, the brandy! I was forgetting that and the little speech that -is coming out of my mouth--a deal shorter speech, and a better one than -what I am making now. Here, in the right hand you see a brandy bottle. -Well, boys, I am not ashamed of that; as long as a man does his -work--and the spade shows that--it's only fair he should have something -to comfort him. I'm always able to work, and few men work much harder. -I'm always able to work, and no man has a right to expect more of me. I -never expect more than that from those who word with me.' - -'No more you don't, Roger: a little drop's very good, ain't it, Roger? -Keeps the cold from the stomach, eh, Roger?' - -'Then as to this speech, "Come, Jack, let's have a drop of some'at -short". Why, that's a good speech too. When I do drink I like to -share with a friend; and I don't care how humble that friend is.' - -'Hurrah! more power. That's true too, Roger; may you never be without -a drop to wet your whistle.' - -'They say I'm the last new baronet. Well, I ain't ashamed of that; not -a bit. When will Mr Moffat get himself made a baronet? No man can -truly say I'm too proud of it. I have never stuck myself up; no, nor -stuck my wife up either: but I don't see much to be ashamed of because -the bigwigs chose to make a baronet of me.' - -'Nor, no more thee h'ant, Roger. We'd all be barrownites if so be we -knew the way.' - -'But now, having polished off this bit of picture, let me ask you who -Mr Moffat is? There are pictures enough about him, too; though Heaven -knows where they all come from. I think Sir Edwin Landseer must have -done this one of the goose; it is so deadly natural. Look at it; there -he is. Upon my word, whoever did that ought to make his fortune at -some of these exhibitions. Here he is again, with a big pair of -scissors. He calls himself "England's honour"; what the deuce -England's honour has to do with tailoring, I can't tell you: perhaps Mr -Moffat can. But mind you, my friends, I don't say anything against -tailoring: some of you are tailors, I dare say.' - -'Yes, we be,' said a little squeaking voice from out of the crowd. - -'And a good trade it is. When I first know Barchester there were -tailors here could lick any stone-mason in the trade; I say nothing -against tailors. But it isn't enough for a man to be a tailor unless -he's something else along with it. You're not so fond of tailors that -you'll send one up to Parliament merely because he is a tailor.' - -'We won't have no tailors. No; nor yet no cabbaging. Take a go of -brandy, Roger; you're blown.' - -'No, I'm not blown yet. I've a deal more to say about Mr Moffat before -I shall be blown. What has he done to entitle him to come here before -you and ask you to send him to Parliament? Why; he isn't even a -tailor. I wish he were. There's always some good in a fellow who -knows how to earn his own bread. But he isn't a tailor; he can't even -put a stitch in towards mending England's honour. His father was a -tailor; not a Barchester tailor, mind you, so as to give him any claim -on your affections; but a London tailor. Now the question is, do you -want to send the son of a London tailor up to Parliament to represent -you?' - -'No, we don't; nor yet we won't either.' - -'I rather think not. You've had him once, and what has he done for -you? has he said much for you in the House of Commons? Why, he's so -dumb a dog that he can't bark even for a bone. I'm told it's quite -painful to hear him fumbling and mumbling and trying to get up a speech -there over at the White Horse. He doesn't belong to the city; he -hasn't done anything for the city; and he hasn't the power to do -anything for the city. Then, why on earth does he come here? I'll -tell you. The Earl de Courcy brings him. He's going to marry the Earl -de Courcy's niece; for they say he's very rich--this tailor's son--only -they do say also that he doesn't much like to spend his money. He's -going to marry Lord de Courcy's niece, and Lord de Courcy wishes that -his nephew should be in Parliament. There, that's the claim which Mr -Moffat has here on the people of Barchester. He's Lord de Courcy's -nominee, and those who feel themselves bound hand and foot, heart and -soul, to Lord de Courcy, had better vote for him. Such men have my -leave. If there are enough of such at Barchester to send him to -Parliament, the city in which I was born must be very much altered -since I was a young man.' - -And so finishing his speech, Sir Roger retired within, and recruited -himself in the usual manner. - -Such was the flood of eloquence at the Dragon of Wantly. At the White -Horse, meanwhile, the friends of the De Courcy interest were treated -perhaps to sounder political views; though not expressed in periods so -intelligibly fluent as those of Sir Roger. - -Mr Moffat was a young man, and there was no knowing to what proficiency -in the Parliamentary gift of public talking he might yet attain; but -hitherto his proficiency was not great. He had, however, endeavoured to -make up by study for any want of readiness of speech, and had come to -Barchester daily, for the last four days, fortified with a very pretty -harangue, which he had prepared for himself in the solitude of his -chamber. On the three previous days matters had been allowed to -progress with tolerable smoothness, and he had been permitted to -deliver himself of his elaborate eloquence with few other interruptions -than those occasioned by his own want of practice. But on this, the -day of days, the Barchesterian roughs were not so complaisant. It -appeared to Mr Moffat, when he essayed to speak, that he was surrounded -by enemies rather than friends; and in his heart he gave great blame to -Mr Nearthewinde for not managing matters better for him. - -'Men of Barchester,' he began, in a voice which was every now and then -preternaturally loud, but which, at each fourth or fifth word, gave way -from want of power, and descended to its natural weak tone. 'Men of -Barchester--electors and non-electors--' - -'We is hall electors; hall on us, my young kiddy.' - -'Electors and non-electors, I now ask your suffrages, not for the first -time--' - -'Oh! we've tried you. We know what you're made on. Go on, Snip; don't -you let 'em put you down.' - -'I've had the honour of representing you in Parliament for the last two -years and--' - -'And a deuced deal you did for us, didn't you?' - -'What could you expect from the ninth part of a man? Never mind, -Snip--go on; don't you be out by any of them. Stick to your wax and -thread like a man--like the ninth part of a man--go on a little faster, -Snip.' - -'For the last two years--and--and--' Here Mr Moffat looked round to his -friends for some little support, and the Honourable George, who stood -close behind him, suggested that he had gone through it like a brick. - -'And--and I went through it like a brick,' said Mr Moffat, with the -gravest possible face, taking up in his utter confusion the words that -were put into his mouth. - -'Hurray!--so you did--you're the real brick. Well done, Snip; go it -again with the wax and thread!' - -'I am a thorough-paced reformer,' continued Mr Moffat, somewhat -reassured by the effect of the opportune words which his friend had -whispered into his ear. 'A thorough-paced reformer--a thorough-paced -reformer--' - -'Go on, Snip. We all know what that means.' - -'A thorough-paced reformer--' - -'Never mind your paces, man; but get on. Tell us something new. We're -all reformers, we are.' - -Poor Mr Moffat was a little thrown back. It wasn't so easy to tell -these gentlemen anything new, harnessed as he was at this moment; so he -looked back at his honourable supporter for some further hint. 'Say -something about their daughters,' whispered George, whose own flights -of oratory were always on that subject. Had he counselled Mr Moffat to -way a word or two about the tides, his advice would not have been less -to the purpose. - -'Gentlemen,' he began again--'you all know that I am a thorough-paced -reformer--' - -'Oh, drat your reform. He's a dumb dog. Go back to your goose, -Snippy; you never were made for this work. Go to Courcy Castle and -reform that.' - -Mr Moffat, grieved in his soul, was becoming inextricably bewildered by -such facetiae as these, when an egg--and it may be feared not a fresh -egg--flung with unerring precision, struck him on the open part of his -well-plaited shirt, and reduced him to speechless despair. - -An egg is a means of delightful support when properly administered; but -it is not calculated to add much spirit to a man's eloquence, or to -ensure his powers of endurance, when supplied in the manner above -described. Men there are, doubtless, whose tongues would not be -stopped even by such an argument as this; but Mr Moffat was not one of -them. As the insidious fluid trickled down beneath his waistcoat, he -felt that all further powers of coaxing the electors out of their -votes, by words flowing from his tongue sweeter than honey, was for -that occasion denied him. He could not be self-confident, energetic, -witty, and good-humoured with a rotten egg, drying through his -clothes. He was forced, therefore, to give way, and with sadly -disconcerted air retired from the open window at which he had been -standing. - -It was in vain that the Honourable George, Mr Nearthewinde, and Frank -endeavoured again to bring him to the charge. He was like a beaten -prize-fighter, whose pluck has been cowed out of him, and who, if he -stands up, only stands up to fall. Mr Moffat got sulky also, and when -he was pressed, said that Barchester and the people in it might be d---. -'With all my heart,' said Mr Nearthewinde. 'That wouldn't have any -effect on their votes.' - -But, in truth, it mattered very little whether Mr Moffat spoke, or -whether he didn't speak. Four o'clock was the hour for closing the poll, -and that was now fast coming. Tremendous exertions had been made about -half-past three, by a safe emissary sent from Nearthewinde, to prove to -Mr Reddypalm that all manner of contingent advantages would accrue to -the Brown Bear if it should turn out that Mr Moffat should take his seat -for Barchester. No bribe was, of course offered or even hinted at. The -purity of Barchester was not contaminated during the day by one such -curse as this. But a man, and a publican, would be required to do some -great deed in the public line. To open some colossal tapp to draw beer -for the million; and no one would be so fit as Mr Reddypalm--if only it -might turn out that Mr Moffat should, in the coming February, take his -seat as member for Barchester. - -But Mr Reddypalm was a man of humble desires, whose ambitions scored no -higher than this--that his little bills should be duly settled. It was -wonderful what love an innkeeper has for his bill in its entirety. An -account, with a respectable total of five or six pounds, is brought to -you, and you complain but of one article; that fire in the bedroom was -never lighted; or that second glass of brandy and water was never -called for. You desire to have the shilling expunged, and all your -host's pleasure in the whole transaction is destroyed. Oh! my -friends, pay for the brandy and water, though you never drank it; -suffer the fire to pass, though it never warmed you. Why make a good -man miserable for such a trifle? - -It became notified to Reddypalm with sufficient clearness that his bill -for the past election should be paid without further question; and -therefore, at five o'clock the Mayor of Barchester proclaimed the -results of the contests in the following figures:-- - - Scatcherd 378 - Moffat 376 - -Mr Reddypalm's two votes had decided the question. Mr Nearthewinde -immediately went up to town; and the dinner party at Courcy Castle that -evening was not a particularly pleasant meal. - -This much, however, had been absolutely decided before the yellow -committee concluded their labour at the White Horse: there should be a -petition. Mr Nearthewinde had not been asleep, and already knew -something of the manner in which Mr Reddypalm's mind had been quieted. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THE RIVALS - -The intimacy between Frank and Miss Dunstable grew and prospered. That -is to say, it prospered as an intimacy, though perhaps hardly as a love -affair. There was a continued succession of jokes between them, which -no one else in the castle understood; but the very fact of there being -such a good understanding between them rather stood in the way of, than -assisted, that consummation which the countess desired. People, when -they are in love with each other, or even when they pretend to be, do -not generally show it by loud laughter. Nor is it frequently the case -that a wife with two hundred thousand pounds can be won without some -little preliminary despair. - -Lady de Courcy, who thoroughly understood that portion of the world in -which she herself lived, saw that things were not going quite as they -should do, and gave much and repeated advice to Frank on the subject. -She was the more eager in doing this, because she imagined Frank had -done what he could to obey her first precepts. He had not turned up -his nose at Miss Dunstable's curls, nor found fault with her loud -voice: he had not objected to her as ugly, nor even shown any dislike -to her age. A young man who had been so amenable to reason was worthy -of further assistance; and so Lady de Courcy did what she could to -assist him. - -'Frank, my dear boy,' she would say, 'you are a little too noisy, I -think. I don't mean for myself, you know; I don't mind it. But Miss -Dunstable would like it better if you were a little more quiet with -her.' - -'Would she, aunt?' said Frank, looking demurely up into the countess's -face. 'I rather think she likes fun and noise, and that sort of -thing. You know she's not very quiet herself.' - -'Ah!--but, Frank, there are times, you know, when that sort of thing -should be laid aside. Fun, as you call it, is all very well in its -place. Indeed, no one likes it better than I do. But that's not the -way to show admiration. Young ladies like to be admired; and if you'll -be a little more soft-mannered with Miss Dunstable, I'm sure you'll -find it will answer better.' - -And so the old bird taught the young bird how to fly--very -needlessly--for in this matter of flying, Nature gives her own lessons -thoroughly; and the ducklings will take the water, even though the -maternal hen warn them against the perfidious element never so loudly. - -Soon after this, Lady de Courcy began to be not very well pleased in -the matter. She took it into her head that Miss Dunstable was -sometimes almost inclined to laugh at her; and on one or two occasions -it almost seemed as though Frank was joining Miss Dunstable in doing -so. The fact indeed was, that Miss Dunstable was fond of fun; and, -endowed as she was with all the privileges which two hundred thousand -pounds may be supposed to give to a young lady, did not very much care -at whom she laughed. She was able to make a tolerably correct guess at -Lady De Courcy's plan towards herself; but she did not for a moment -think that Frank had any intention of furthering his aunt's views. She -was, therefore, not at all ill-inclined to have her revenge on the -countess. - -'How very fond your aunt is of you!' she said to him one wet morning, -as he was sauntering through the house; now laughing, and almost -romping with her--then teasing his sister about Mr Moffat--and then -bothering his lady-cousins out of all their propriety. - -'Oh, very!' said Frank: 'she is a dear, good woman, is my Aunt De -Courcy.' - -'I declare she takes more notice of you and your doings than of any of -your cousins. I wonder they aren't jealous.' - -'Oh! they're such good people. Bless me, they'd never be jealous.' - -'You are so much younger than they are, that I suppose she thinks you -want more of her care.' - -'Yes; that's it. You see she is fond of having a baby to nurse.' - -'Tell me, Mr Gresham, what was it she was saying to you last night? I -know we have been misbehaving ourselves dreadfully. It was all your -fault; you would make me laugh so.' - -'That's just what I said to her.' - -'She was talking about it, then?' - -'How on earth should she talk of any one else as long as you are here? -Don't you know that all the world is talking about you?' - -'Is it?--dear me, how kind! But I don't care a straw about any world at -present but Lady de Courcy's world. What did she say?' - -'She said you were very beautiful--' - -'Did she?--how good of her!' - -'No; I forgot. It--it was I that said that; and she said--what was it -she said? She said, that after all, beauty was but skin deep--and that -she valued you for your virtues and prudence rather than your good -looks.' - -'Virtues and prudence! She said I was prudent and virtuous?' - -'Yes.' - -'And you talked of my beauty? That was so kind of you. You didn't -either of you say anything about other matters?' - -'What other matters?' - -'Oh! I don't know. Only some people are sometimes valued rather for -what they've got than for any good qualities belonging to themselves -intrinsically.' - -'That can never be the case with Miss Dunstable; especially not at -Courcy Castle,' said Frank, bowing easily from the corner of the sofa -over which he was leaning. - -'Of course not,' said Miss Dunstable; and Frank at once perceived that -she spoke in a tone of voice differing much from that half-bantering, -half-good-humoured manner that was customary with her. 'Of course not: -any such idea would be quite out of the question with Lady de Courcy.' -She paused for a moment, and then added in a tone different again, and -unlike any that he had yet heard from her:--'It is, at any rate, out of -the question with Mr Frank Gresham--of that I am quite sure.' - -Frank ought to have understood her, and have appreciated the good -opinion which she intended to convey; but he did not entirely do so. He -was hardly honest himself towards her; and he could not at first -perceive that she intended to say that she thought him so. He knew -very well that she was alluding to her own huge fortune, and was -alluding also to the fact that people of fashion sought her because of -it; but he did not know that she intended to express a true acquittal -as regarded him of any such baseness. - -And did he deserve to be acquitted? Yes, upon the whole he did;--to be -acquitted of that special sin. His desire to make Miss Dunstable -temporarily subject to his sway arose, not from a hankering after her -fortune, but from an ambition to get the better of a contest in which -other men around him seemed to be failing. - -For it must not be imagined that, with such a prize to be struggled -for, all others stood aloof and allowed him to have his own way with -the heiress, undisputed. The chance of a wife with two hundred -thousand pounds is a godsend, which comes in a man's life too seldom to -be neglected, let that chance be never so remote. - -Frank was the heir to a large embarrassed property; and, therefore, the -heads of families, putting their wisdoms together, had thought it most -meet that this daughter of Plutus should, if possible, fall to his -lot. But not so thought the Honourable George; and not so thought -another gentleman who was at that time an inmate of Courcy Castle. - -These suitors perhaps somewhat despised their young rival's efforts. It -may be that they had sufficient worldly wisdom to know that so -important a crisis of life is not settled among quips and jokes, and -that Frank was too much in jest to be in earnest. But be that as it -may, his love-making did not stand in the way of their love-making; nor -his hopes, if he had any, in the way of their hopes. - -The Honourable George had discussed the matter with the Honourable John -in a properly fraternal manner. It may be that John had also an eye to -the heiress; but, if so, he had ceded his views to his brother's -superior claims; for it came about that they understood each other very -well, and John favoured George with salutary advice on the occasion. - -'If it is to be done at all, it should be done very sharp,' said John. - -'As sharp as you like,' said George. 'I'm not the fellow to be -studying three months in what attitude I'll fall at a girl's feet.' - -'No: and when you are there you mustn't take three months more to study -how you'll get up again. If you do it at all, you must do it sharp,' -repeated John, putting great stress on his advice. - -'I have said a few soft words to her already, and she didn't seem to -take them badly,' said George. - -'She's no chicken, you know,' remarked John; 'and with a woman like -that, beating about the bush never does any good. The chances are she -won't have you--that's of course; plums like that don't fall into a -man's mouth merely for shaking the tree. But it's possible she may; and -if she will, she's as likely to take you to-day as this day six -months. If I were you I'd write her a letter.' - -'Write her a letter--eh?' said George, who did not altogether dislike -the advice, for it seemed to take from his shoulders the burden of -preparing a spoken address. Though he was so glib in speaking about -the farmers' daughters, he felt that he should have some little -difficulty in making known his passion to Miss Dunstable, by word of -mouth. - -'Yes; write a letter. If she'll take you at all, she'll take you that -way; half the matches going are made up by writing letters. Write her -a letter and get it put on her dressing-table.' George said that he -would, and so he did. - -George spoke quite truly when he hinted that he had said a few soft -things to Miss Dunstable. Miss Dunstable, however, was accustomed to -hear soft things. She had been carried much about in society among -fashionable people since, on the settlement of her father's will, she -had been pronounced heiress to all the ointment of Lebanon; and many -men had made calculations respecting her similar to those which were -now animating the brain of the Honourable George de Courcy. She was -already quite accustomed to being a target at which spendthrifts and -the needy rich might shoot their arrows: accustomed to being shot at, -and tolerably accustomed to protect herself without making scenes in -the world, or rejecting the advantageous establishments offered to her -with any loud expressions of disdain. The Honourable George, -therefore, had been permitted to say soft things very much as a matter -of course. - -And very little more outward fracas arose from the correspondence which -followed than had arisen from the soft things so said. George wrote -the letter, and had it duly conveyed to Miss Dunstable's bed-chamber. -Miss Dunstable duly received it, and had her answer conveyed back -discreetly to George's hands. The correspondence ran as follows:-- - -'Courcy Castle, Aug. -, 185-. -'MY DEAREST MISS DUNSTABLE, - -'I cannot but flatter myself that you must have perceived from -my manner that you are not indifferent to me. Indeed, indeed, -you are not. I may truly say, and swear' (these last strong -words had been put in by the special counsel of the Honourable -John), 'that if ever a man loved a woman truly, I truly love -you. You may think it very odd that I should say this in a -letter instead of speaking it out before your face; but your -powers of raillery are so great' ('touch her up about her wit' -had been the advice of the Honourable John) 'that I am all but -afraid to encounter them. Dearest, dearest Martha--oh do not -blame me for so addressing you!--if you will trust your -happiness to me you shall never find that you have been -deceived. My ambition shall be to make you shine in that -circle which you are so well qualified to adorn and to see you -firmly fixed in that sphere of fashion for which your tastes -adapt you. - -'I may safely assert--and I do assert it with my hand on my -heart--that I am actuated by no mercenary motives. Far be it -from me to marry any woman--no, not a princess--on account of -her money. No marriage can be happy without mutual affection; -and I do fully trust--no, not trust, but hope--that there may be -such between you and me, dearest Miss Dunstable. Whatever -settlements you might propose I would accede to. It is you, -your sweet person, that I love, not your money. - -'For myself, I need not remind you that I am the second son of -my father; and that, as such, I hold no inconsiderable station -in the world. My intention is to get into Parliament, and to -make a name for myself, if I can, among those who shine in the -House of Commons. My elder brother, Lord Porlock, is, you are -aware, unmarried; and we all fear that the family honours are -not likely to be perpetuated by him, as he has all manner of -troublesome liaisons which will probably prevent his settling -in life. There is nothing at all of that kind in my way. It -will indeed be a delight to place a coronet on the head of my -lovely Martha: a coronet which can give no fresh grace to her, -but which will be so much adorned by her wearing it. - -'Dearest, Miss Dunstable, I shall wait with the utmost -impatience for your answer; and now, burning with hope that it -may not be altogether unfavourable to my love, I beg -permission to sign myself - -'Your own most devoted, -'GEORGE DE COURCY' - -The ardent lover had not to wait long for an answer from his mistress. -She found this letter on her toilet-table one night as she went to -bed. The next morning she came down to breakfast and met her swain -with the most unconcerned air in the world; so much so that he began to -think, as he munched his toast with rather a shamefaced look, that the -letter on which so much was to depend had not yet come safely to hand. -But his suspense was not of a prolonged duration. After breakfast, as -was his wont, he went out to the stables with his brother and Frank -Gresham; and while there, Miss Dunstable's man, coming up to him, -touched his hat, and put a letter into his hand. - -Frank, who knew the man, glanced at the letter and looked at his -cousin; but he said nothing. He was, however, a little jealous, and -felt that an injury was done to him by any correspondence between Miss -Dunstable and his cousin George. - -Miss Dunstable's reply was as follows; and it may be remarked that it -was written in a very clear and well-penned hand, and one which -certainly did not betray much emotion of the heart:- - -'MY DEAR MR DE COURCY, - -'I am sorry to say that I had not perceived from your manner -that you entertained any peculiar feelings towards me; as, had -I done so, I should at once have endeavoured to put an end to -them. I am much flattered by the way in which you speak of me; -but I am in too humble a position to return your affection; -and can, therefore, only express a hope that you may be soon -able to eradicate it from your bosom. A letter is a very good -way of making an offer, and as such I do not think it at all -odd; but I certainly did not expect such an honour last night. -As to my raillery, I trust it has never yet hurt you. I can -assure you that it never shall. I hope you will soon have a -worthier ambition than that to which you allude; for I am well -aware that no attempt will ever make me shine anywhere. - -'I am quite sure you have had no mercenary motives: such -motives in marriage are very base, and quite below your name -and lineage. Any little fortune that I may have must be a -matter of indifference to one who looks forward, as you do, to -put a coronet on his wife's brow. Nevertheless, for the sake -of the family, I trust that Lord Porlock, in spite of his -obstacles, may live to do the same for a wife of his own some -of these days. I am glad to hear that there is nothing to -interfere with your own prospects of domestic felicity. - -'Sincerely hoping that you may be perfectly successful in your -proud ambition to shine in Parliament, and regretting -extremely that I cannot share that ambition with you, I beg to -subscribe myself, with very great respect, - -'Your sincere well-wisher, -'MARTHA DUNSTABLE' - -The Honourable George, with that modesty which so well became him, -accepted Miss Dunstable's reply as a final answer to his little -proposition, and troubled her with no further courtship. As he said to -his brother John, no harm had been done, and he might have better luck -next time. But there was an intimate of Courcy Castle who was somewhat -more pertinacious in his search after love and wealth. This was no -other than Mr Moffat: a gentleman whose ambition was not satisfied by -the cares of his Barchester contest, or the possession of one affianced -bride. - -Mr Moffat was, as we have said, a man of wealth; but we all know, from -the lessons of early youth, how the love of money increases and gains -strength by its own success. Nor was he a man of so mean a spirit as -to be satisfied with mere wealth. He desired also place and station, -and gracious countenance among the great ones of the earth. Hence had -come his adherence to the De Courcys; hence his seat in Parliament; and -hence, also, his perhaps ill-considered match with Miss Gresham. - -There is no doubt but that the privilege of matrimony offers -opportunities to money-loving young men which ought not to be lightly -abused. Too many young men marry without giving any consideration to -the matter whatever. It is not that they are indifferent to money, but -that they recklessly miscalculate their own value, and omit to look -around and see how much is done by those who are more careful. A man -can be young but once, and, except in cases of a special interposition -of Providence, can marry but once. The chance once thrown away may be -said to be irrevocable! How, in after-life, do men toil and turmoil -through long years to attain some prospect of doubtful advancement! -Half that trouble, half that care, a tithe of that circumspection -would, in early youth, have probably secured to them the enduring -comfort of a wife's wealth. - -You will see men labouring night and day to become bank directors; and -even a bank direction may only be the road to ruin. Others will spend -years in degrading subserviency to obtain a niche in a will; and the -niche, when at last obtained and enjoyed, is but a sorry payment for -all that has been endured. Others again, struggle harder still, and go -through even deeper waters: they make wills for themselves, forge -stock-shares, and fight with unremitting, painful labour to appear to -be the thing they are not. Now, in many of these cases, all this might -have been spared had the men made adequate use of those opportunities -which youth and youthful charms afford once--and once only. There is no -road to wealth so easy and respectable as that of matrimony; that, is -of course, provided that the aspirant declines the slow course to -honest work. But then, we can so seldom put old heads on young -shoulders! - -In the case of Mr Moffat, we may perhaps say that a specimen was -produced of this bird, so rare in the land. His shoulders were certainly -young, seeing that he was not yet six-and-twenty; but his head had ever -been old. From the moment when he was first put forth to go alone--at -the age of twenty-one--his life had been one calculation how he could -make the most of himself. He had allowed himself to be betrayed into -folly by an unguarded heart; no youthful indiscretion had marred his -prospects. He had made the most of himself. Without wit or depth, or any -mental gift--without honesty of purpose or industry for good work--he -had been for two years sitting member for Barchester; was the guest of -Lord de Courcy; was engaged to the eldest daughter of one of the best -commoners' families in England; and was, when he first began to think of -Miss Dunstable, sanguine that his re-election to Parliament was secure. - -When, however, at this period he began to calculate what his position -in the world really was, it occurred to him that he was doing an -ill-judged thing in marrying Miss Gresham. Why marry a penniless -girl--for Augusta's trifle of a fortune was not a penny in his -estimation--while there was Miss Dunstable in the world to be won? His -own six or seven thousand a year, quite unembarrassed as it was, was -certainly a great thing; but what might he not do if to that he could -add the almost fabulous wealth of the great heiress? Was she not here, -put absolutely in his path? Would it not be a wilful throwing away of -a chance not to avail himself of it? He must, to be sure, lose the De -Courcy friendship; but if he should then have secured his Barchester -seat for the usual term of parliamentary session, he might be able to -spare that. He would also, perhaps, encounter some Gresham enmity: -this was a point on which he did think more than once: but what will a -man not encounter for the sake of two hundred thousand pounds? - -It was thus that Mr Moffat argued with himself, with much prudence, and -brought himself to resolve that he would at any rate become the -candidate for the great prize. He also, therefore, began to say soft -things; and it must be admitted that he said them with more considerate -propriety than had the Honourable George. Mr Moffat had an idea that -Miss Dunstable was not a fool, and that in order to catch her he must -do more than endeavour to lay salt on her tail, in the guise of -flattery. It was evident to him that she was a bird of some cunning, -not to be caught by an ordinary gin, such as those commonly in use with -the Honourable Georges of Society. - -It seemed to Mr Moffat, that though Miss Dunstable was so sprightly, so -full of fun, and so ready to chatter on all subjects, she well knew the -value of her own money, and of her position as dependent on it: he -perceived that she never flattered the countess, and seemed to be no -whit absorbed by the titled grandeur of her host's family. He gave her -credit, therefore, for an independent spirit: and an independent spirit -in his estimation was one that placed its sole dependence on a -respectable balance at its banker's. - -Working on these ideas, Mr Moffat commenced operations in such manner -that his overtures to the heiress should not, if unsuccessful, -interfere with the Greshamsbury engagement. He began by making common -cause with Miss Dunstable: their positions in the world, he said to -her, were closely similar. They had both risen from the lower classes -by the strength of honest industry: they were both now wealthy, and had -both hitherto made such use of their wealth as to induce the highest -aristocracy in England to admit them into their circles. - -'Yes, Mr Moffat,' had Miss Dunstable remarked; 'and if all that I hear -be true, to admit you into their very families.' - -At this Mr Moffat slightly demurred. He would not affect, he said, to -misunderstand what Miss Dunstable meant. There had been something said -on the probability of such an event; but he begged Miss Dunstable not -to believe all that she heard on such subjects. - -'I do not believe much,' said she; 'but I certainly did think that that -might be credited.' - -Mr Moffat went on to show how it behoved them both, in holding out -their hands half-way to meet the aristocratic overtures that were made -to them, not to allow themselves to be made use of. The aristocracy, -according to Mr Moffat, were people of a very nice sort; the best -acquaintance in the world; a portion of mankind to be noticed by whom -should be one of the first objects in the life of the Dunstables and -the Moffats. But the Dunstables and Moffats should be very careful to -give little or nothing in return. Much, very much in return, would be -looked for. The aristocracy, said Mr Moffat, were not a people to -allow in the light of their countenance to shine forth without looking -for a quid pro quo, for some compensating value. In all their -intercourse with the Dunstables and Moffats, they would expect a -payment. It was for the Dunstables and Moffats to see that, at any -rate, they did not pay more for the article they got than its market -value. - -They way in which she, Miss Dunstable, and he, Mr Moffat, would be -required to pay would be by taking each of them some poor scion of the -aristocracy in marriage; and thus expending their hard-earned wealth in -procuring high-priced pleasures for some well-born pauper. Against -this, peculiar caution was to be used. Of course, the further -induction to be shown was this: that people so circumstanced should -marry among themselves; the Dunstables and the Moffats each with the -other and not tumble into the pitfalls prepared for them. - -Whether these great lessons had any lasting effect on Miss Dunstable's -mind may be doubted. Perhaps she had already made up her mind on the -subject which Mr Moffat so well discussed. She was older than Mr -Moffat, and, in spite of his two years of parliamentary experience, had -perhaps more knowledge of the world with which she had to deal. But -she listened to what he said with complacency; understood his object as -well as she had that of his aristocratic rival; was no whit offended; -but groaned in her spirit as she thought of the wrongs of Augusta -Gresham. - -But all this good advice, however, would not win the money for Mr -Moffat without some more decided step; and that step he soon decided on -taking, feeling assured that what he had said would have its due weight -with the heiress. - -The party at Courcy Castle was now soon about to be broken up. The male -De Courcys were going down to a Scotch mountain. The female De Courcys -were to be shipped off to an Irish castle. Mr Moffat was to go up to -town to prepare his petition. Miss Dunstable was again about to start -on a foreign tour in behalf of her physician and attendants; and Frank -Gresham was at last to be allowed to go to Cambridge; that is to say, -unless his success with Miss Dunstable should render such a step on his -part quite preposterous. - -'I think you may speak now, Frank,' said the countess. 'I really think -you may: you have known her now for a considerable time; and, as far as -I can judge, she is very fond of you.' - -'Nonsense, aunt,' said Frank; 'she doesn't care a button for me.' - -'I think differently; and lookers-on, you know, always understand the -game best. I suppose you are not afraid to ask her.' - -'Afraid!' said Frank, in a tone of considerable scorn. He almost made -up his mind that he would ask her to show that he was not afraid. His -only obstacle to doing so was, that he had not the slightest intention -of marrying her. - -There was to be but one other great event before the party broke up, -and that was a dinner at the Duke of Omnium's. The duke had already -declined to come to Courcy; but he had in a measure atoned for this by -asking some of the guests to join a great dinner which he was about to -give to his neighbours. - -Mr Moffat was to leave Courcy Castle the day after the dinner-party, -and he therefore determined to make his great attempt on the morning of -that day. It was with some difficulty that he brought about an -opportunity; but at last he did so, and found himself alone with Miss -Dunstable in the walks of Courcy Park. - -'It is a strange thing, is it not,' said he, recurring to his old view -of the same subject, 'that I should be going to dine with the Duke of -Omnium--the richest man, they say, among the whole English aristocracy?' - -'Men of that kind entertain everybody, I believe, now and then,' said -Miss Dunstable, not very civilly. - -'I believe they do; but I am not going as one of the everybodies. I am -going from Lord de Courcy's house with some of his own family. I have -no pride in that--not the least; I have more pride in my father's honest -industry. But it shows what money does in this country of ours.' - -'Yes, indeed; money does a great deal many queer things.' In saying -this Miss Dunstable could not but think that money had done a very -queer thing in inducing Miss Gresham to fall in love with Mr Moffat. - -'Yes; wealth is very powerful: here we are, Miss Dunstable, the most -honoured guests in the house.' - -'Oh! I don't know about that; you may be, for you are a member of -Parliament, and all that--' - -'No; not a member now, Miss Dunstable.' - -'Well, you will be, and that's all the same; but I have no such title -to honour, thank God.' - -They walked on in silence for a little while, for Mr Moffat hardly knew -who to manage the business he had in hand. 'It is quite delightful to -watch these people,' he said at last; 'now they accuse us of being -tuft-hunters.' - -'Do they?' said Miss Dunstable. 'Upon my word I didn't know that -anybody ever so accused me.' - -'I didn't mean you and me personally.' - -'Oh! I'm glad of that.' - -'But that is what the world says of persons of our class. Now it seems -to me that toadying is all on the other side. The countess here does -toady you, and so do the young ladies.' - -'Do they? if so, upon my word I didn't know it. But, to tell the -truth, I don't think much of such things. I live mostly to myself, Mr -Moffat.' - -'I see that you do, and I admire you for it; but, Miss Dunstable, you -cannot always live so,' and Mr Moffat looked at her in a manner which -gave her the first intimation of his coming burst of tenderness. - -'That's as may be, Mr Moffat,' said she. - -He went on beating about the bush for some time--giving her to -understand now necessary it was that persons situated as they were -should live either for themselves or for each other, and that, above -all things, they should beware of falling into the mouths of voracious -aristocratic lions who go about looking for prey--till they came to a -turn in the grounds; at which Miss Dunstable declared her intention of -going in. She had walked enough, she said. As by this time Mr -Moffat's immediate intentions were becoming visible she thought it -prudent to retire. 'Don't let me take you in, Mr Moffat; but my boots -are a little damp, and Dr Easyman will never forgive me if I do not -hurry in as fast as I can.' - -'Your feet damp?--I hope not: I do hope not,' said he, with a look of -the greatest solicitude. - -'Oh! it's nothing to signify; but it's well to be prudent, you know. -Good morning, Mr Moffat.' - -'Miss Dunstable!' - -'Eh--yes!' and Miss Dunstable stopped in the grand path. 'I won't let -you return with me, Mr Moffat, because I know you were coming in so -soon.' - -'Miss Dunstable; I shall be leaving here to-morrow.' - -'Yes; and I go myself the day after.' - -'I know it. I am going to town and you are going abroad. It may be -long--very long--before we meet again.' - -'About Easter,' said Miss Dunstable; 'that is, if the doctor doesn't -known up on the road.' - -'And I had, had wish to say something before we part for so long a -time. Miss Dunstable--' - -'Stop!--Mr Moffat. Let me ask you one question. I'll hear anything -that you have got to say, but on one condition: that is, that Miss -Augusta Gresham shall be by while you say it. Will you consent to -that?' - -'Miss Augusta Gresham,' said he, 'has no right to listen to my private -conversation.' - -'Has she not, Mr Moffat? then I think she should have. I, at any rate, -will not so far interfere with what I look on as her undoubted -privileges as to be a party to any secret in which she may not -participate.' - -'But, Miss Dunstable--' - -And to tell you fairly, Mr Moffat, any secret that you do tell me, I -shall most undoubtedly repeat to her before dinner. Good morning, Mr -Moffat; my feet are certainly a little damp, and if I stay a moment -longer, Dr Easyman will put off my foreign trip for at least a week.' -And so she left him standing alone in the middle of the gravel-walk. - -For a moment or two, Mr Moffat consoled himself in his misfortune by -thinking how he might avenge himself on Miss Dunstable. Soon, however, -such futile ideas left his brain. Why should he give over the chase -because the rich galleon had escaped him on this, his first cruise in -pursuit of her? Such prizes were not to be won so easily. His present -objection clearly consisted in his engagement to Miss Gresham, and in -that only. Let that engagement be at an end, notoriously and publicly -broken off, and this objection would fall to the ground. Yes; ships so -richly freighted were not to be run down in one summer morning's plain -sailing. Instead of looking for his revenge on Miss Dunstable, it -would be more prudent in him--more in keeping with his character--to -pursue his object, and overcome such difficulties as he might find his -way. - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE DUKE OF OMNIUM - -The Duke of Omnium was, as we have said, a bachelor. Not the less on -that account did he on certain rare gala days entertain the beauty of -the county in his magnificent rural seat, or the female fashion of -London in Belgrave Square; but on this occasion the dinner at Gatherum -Castle--for such was the name of his mansion--was to be confined to the -lords of the creation. It was to be one of those days on which he -collected round his board all the notables of the county, in order that -his popularity might not wane, or the established glory of his -hospitable house become dim. - -On such an occasion it was not probable that Lord de Courcy would be -one of the guests. They party, indeed, who went from Courcy Castle was -not large, and consisted of the Honourable George, Mr Moffat, and Frank -Gresham. They went in a tax-cart, with a tandem horse, driven very -knowingly by George de Courcy; and the fourth seat on the back of the -vehicle was occupied by a servant, who was to look after the horses at -Gatherum. - -The Honourable George drove either well or luckily, for he reached the -duke's house in safety; but he drove very fast. Poor Miss Dunstable! -what would have been her lot had anything but good happened to that -vehicle, so richly freighted with her three lovers! They did not -quarrel as to the prize, and all reached Gatherum Castle in good-humour -with each other. - -The castle was new building of white stone, lately erected at an -enormous cost by one of the first architects of the day. It was an -immense pile, and seemed to cover ground enough for a moderate-sized -town. But, nevertheless, report said that when it was completed, the -noble owner found that he had no rooms to live in; and that, on this -account, when disposed to study his own comfort, he resided in a house -of perhaps one-tenth of the size, built by his grandfather in another -county. - -Gatherum Castle would probably be called Italian in its style of -architecture; though it may, I think, be doubted whether any such -edifice, or anything like it, was ever seen in any part of Italy. It -was a vast edifice; irregular in height--or it appeared to be--having -long wings on each side too high to be passed over by the eye as mere -adjuncts to the mansion, and a portico so large as to make the house -behind it look like another building of a greater altitude. This -portico was supported by Ionic columns, and was in itself doubtless a -beautiful structure. It was approached by a flight of steps, very -broad and very grand; but, as an approach, by a flight of steps hardly -suits an Englishman's house, to the immediate entrance of which it is -necessary that his carriage should drive, there was another front door -in one of the wings which was commonly used. A carriage, however, -could on very stupendously grand occasions--the visits, for instance, of -queens and kings, and royal dukes--be brought up under the portico; as -the steps had been so constructed as to admit of a road, with a rather -stiff ascent, being made close in front of the wing up into the very -porch. - -0pening from the porch was the grand hall, which extended up to the top -of the house. It was magnificent, indeed; being decorated with -many-coloured marbles, and hung round with various trophies of the -house of Omnium; banners were there, and armour; the sculptured busts -of many noble progenitors; full-length figures of marble of those who -had been especially prominent; and every monument of glory and wealth, -long years, and great achievements could bring together. If only a man -could but live in his hall and be for ever happy there! But the Duke -of Omnium could not live happily in his hall; and the fact was, that -the architect, in contriving this magnificent entrance for his own -honour and fame, had destroyed the duke's house as regards most of the -ordinary purposes of residence. - -Nevertheless, Gatherum Castle is a very noble pile; and, standing as it -does an eminence, has a very fine effect when seen from many a distant -knoll and verdant-wooded hill. - -At seven o'clock, Mr de Courcy and his friends got down from their drag -at the smaller door--for this was no day on which to mount up under the -portico; nor was that any suitable vehicle to have been entitled to -such honour. Frank felt some excitement a little stronger than that -usual to him at such moments, for he had never yet been in company with -the Duke of Omnium; and he rather puzzled himself to think on what -points he would talk to the man who was the largest landowner in that -county in which he himself had so great an interest. He, however, made -up his mind that he would allow the duke to choose his own subjects; -merely reserving to himself the right of pointing out how deficient in -gorse covers was West Barsetshire--that being the duke's division. - -They were soon divested of their coats and hats, and, without entering -on the magnificence of the great hall, were conducted through rather a -narrow passage into rather a small drawing-room--small, that is, in -proportion to the number of gentlemen there assembled. There might be -about thirty, and Frank was inclined to think that they were almost -crowded. A man came forward to greet them when their names were -announced; but our hero at once knew that he was not the duke; for this -man was fat and short, whereas the duke was thin and tall. - -There was a great hubbub going on; for everybody seemed to be talking -to his neighbour; or, in default of a neighbour, to himself. It was -clear that the exalted rank of their host had put very little -constraint on his guests' tongues, for they chatted away with as much -freedom as farmers at an ordinary. - -'Which is the duke?' at last Frank contrived to whisper to his cousin. - -'Oh;--he's not here,' said George; 'I suppose he'll be in presently. I -believe he never shows till just before dinner.' - -Frank, of course, had nothing further to say; but he already began to -feel himself a little snubbed: he thought that the duke, duke though he -was, when he asked people to dinner should be there to tell them that -he was glad to see them. - -More people flashed into the room, and Frank found himself rather -closely wedged in with a stout clergyman of his acquaintance. He was -not badly off, for Mr Athill was a friend of his own, who had held a -living near Greshamsbury. Lately, however, at the lamented decease of -Dr Stanhope--who had died of apoplexy at his villa in Italy--Mr Athill -had been presented with the better preferment of Eiderdown, and had, -therefore, removed to another part of the county. He was somewhat of a -bon-vivant, and a man who thoroughly understood dinner-parties; and -with much good nature he took Frank under his special protection. - -'You stick to me, Mr Gresham,' he said, 'when we go into the -dining-room. I'm an old hand at the duke's dinners, and know how to -make a friend comfortable as well as myself.' - -'But why doesn't the duke come in?' demanded Frank. - -'He'll be here as soon as dinner is ready,' said Mr Athill. 'Or, -rather, the dinner will be ready as soon as he is here. I don't care, -therefore, how soon he comes.' - -He was beginning to be impatient, for the room was now nearly full, and -it seemed evident that no other guests were coming; when suddenly a -bell rang, and a gong was sounded, and at the same instant a door that -had not yet been used flew open, and a very plainly dressed, plain, -tall man entered the room. Frank at once knew that he was at last in -the presence of the Duke of Omnium. - -But his grace, late as he was in commencing the duties as host, seemed -in no hurry to make up for lost time. He quietly stood on the rug, -with his back to the empty grate, and spoke one or two words in a very -low voice to one or two gentlemen who stood nearest to him. The crowd, -in the meanwhile, became suddenly silent. Frank, when he found that -the duke did not come and speak to him, felt that he ought to go and -speak to the duke; but no one else did so, and when he whispered his -surprise to Mr Athill, that gentleman told him that this was the duke's -practice on all such occasions. - -'Fothergill,' said the duke--and it was the only word he had yet spoken -out loud--'I believe we are ready for dinner.' Now Mr Fothergill was -the duke's land-agent, and he it was who had greeted Frank and his -friends at their entrance. - -Immediately the gong was again sounded, and another door leading out of -the drawing-room into the dining-room was opened. The duke led the -way, and then the guests followed. 'Stick close to me, Mr Gresham,' -said Athill, 'we'll get about the middle of the table, where we shall -be cosy--and on the other side of the room, out of this dreadful -draught--I know the place well, Mr Gresham; stick to me.' - -Mr Athill, who was a pleasant, chatty companion, had hardly seated -himself, and was talking to Frank as quickly as he could, when Mr -Fothergill, who sat at the bottom of the table, asked him to say -grace. It seemed to be quite out of the question that the duke should -take any trouble over his guests whatever. Mr Athill consequently -dropped the word he was speaking, and uttered a prayer--if it was a -prayer--that they might all have grateful hearts for which God was about -to give them. - -If it was a prayer! As far as my own experience goes, such utterances -are seldom prayers, seldom can be prayers. And if not prayers, what -then? To me it is unintelligible that the full tide of glibbest chatter -can be stopped at a moment in the midst of profuse good living, and the -Given thanked becomingly in words of heartfelt praise. Setting aside -for the moment what one daily hears and sees, may not one declare that -a change so sudden is not within the compass of the human mind? But -then, to such reasoning one cannot but add what one does hear and see; -one cannot but judge of the ceremony by the manner in which one sees it -performed--uttered, that is--and listened to. Clergymen there are--one -meets them now and then--who endeavour to give to the dinner-table -grace some of the solemnity of a church ritual, and what is the -effect? Much the same as though one were to be interrupted for a -minute in the midst of one of our church liturgies to hear a -drinking-song. - -And it will be argued, that a man need be less thankful because, at the -moment of receiving, he utters not thanksgiving? or will it be -thought that a man is made thankful because what is called a grace is -uttered after dinner? It can hardly be imagined that any one will so -argue, or so think. - -Dinner-graces are, probably, the last remaining relic of certain daily -services which the Church in olden days enjoined: nones, complines, and -vespers were others. Of the nones and complines we have happily got -quit; and it might be well if we could get rid of the dinner-grace -also. Let any man ask himself whether, on his own part, they are acts -of prayer and thanksgiving--and if not that, what then? It is, I know, -alleged that graces are said before dinner, because our Saviour uttered -a blessing before his last supper. I cannot say that the idea of such -analogy is pleasing to me. - -When the large party entered the dining-room one or two gentlemen might -be seen to come in from some other door and set themselves at the table -near to the duke's chair. These were guests of his own, who were -staying in the house, his particular friends, the men with whom he -lived: the others were strangers whom he fed, perhaps once a year, in -order that his name might be known in the land as that of one who -distributed food and wine hospitably through the county. The food and -wine, the attendance also, and the view of the vast repository of plate -he vouchsafed willingly to his county neighbours;--but it was beyond his -good nature to talk to them. To judge by the present appearance of -most of them, they were quite as well satisfied to be left alone. - -Frank was altogether a stranger there, but Mr Athill knew every one at -the table. - -'That's Apjohn,' said he: 'don't you know, Mr Apjohn, the attorney from -Barchester? he's always here; he does some of Fothergill's law -business, and makes himself useful. If any fellow knows the value of a -good dinner, he does. You'll see that the duke's hospitality will not -be thrown away on him.' - -'It's very much thrown away on me, I know,' said Frank, who could not -at all put up with the idea of sitting down to dinner without having -been spoken to by his host. - -'Oh, nonsense!' said his clerical friend; 'you'll enjoy yourself -amazingly by and by. There is not much champagne in any other house in -Barsetshire; and then the claret--' And Mr Athill pressed his lips -together, and gently shook his head, meaning to signify by the motion -that the claret of Gatherum Castle was sufficient atonement for any -penance which a man might have to go through in his mode of obtaining -it. - -'Who is that funny little man sitting there, next but one to Mr de -Courcy? I never saw such a queer fellow in my life.' - -'Don't you know old Bolus? Well, I thought every one in Barsetshire -knew Bolus; you especially should do so, as he is such a dear friend of -Dr Thorne.' - -'A dear friend of Dr Thorne?' - -'Yes; he was apothecary at Scarington in the old days, before Dr -Fillgrave came into vogue. I remember when Bolus was thought to be a -very good sort of doctor.' - -'Is he--is he--' whispered Frank, 'is he by way of a gentleman?' - -'Ha! ha! ha! Well, I suppose we must be charitable, and say that he is -quite as good, at any rate, as many others there are here--' and Mr -Athill, as he spoke, whispered into Frank's ear, 'You see there's -Finnie here, another Barchester attorney. Now, I really think where -Finnie goes, Bolus may go too.' - -'The more the merrier, I suppose,' said Frank. - -'Well, something a little like that. I wonder why Thorne is not here? -I'm sure he was asked.' - -'Perhaps he did not particularly wish to meet Finnie and Bolus. Do you -know, Mr Athill, I think he was quite right not to come. As for myself, -I wish I was anywhere else.' - -'Ha! ha! ha! You don't know the duke's ways yet; and what's more, -you're young, you happy fellow! But Thorne should have more sense; he -ought to show himself here.' - -The gormandizing was now going on at a tremendous rate. Though the -volubility of their tongues had been for a while stopped by the first -shock of the duke's presence, the guests seemed to feel no such -constraint upon their teeth. They fed, one may almost say, rabidly, -and gave their orders to the servants in an eager manner; much more -impressive than that usual at smaller parties. Mr Apjohn, who sat -immediately opposite to Frank, had, by some well-planned manoeuvre, -contrived to get before him the jowl of a salmon; but, unfortunately, -he was not for a while equally successful in the article of sauce. A -very limited portion--so at least thought Mr Apjohn--had been put on his -plate; and a servant, with a huge sauce tureen, absolutely passed -behind his back inattentive to his audible requests. Poor Mr Apjohn in -his despair turned round to arrest the man by his coat-tails; but he -was a moment too late, and all but fell backwards on the floor. As he -righted himself he muttered an anathema, and looked with a face of -anguish at his plate. - -'Anything the matter, Apjohn?' said Mr Fothergill, kindly, seeing the -utter despair written on the poor man's countenance; 'can I get -anything for you?' - -'The sauce!' said Mr Apjohn, in a voice that would have melted a -hermit; and as he looked at Mr Fothergill, he point at the now distant -sinner, who was dispensing his melted ambrosia at least ten heads -upwards, away from the unfortunate supplicant. - -Mr Fothergill, however, knew where to look for balm for such wounds, -and in a minute or two, Mr Apjohn was employed quite to his heart's -content. - -'Well,' said Frank to his neighbour, 'it may be very well once in a -way; but I think that on the whole Dr Thorne is right.' - -'My dear Mr Gresham, see the world on all sides,' said Mr Athill, who -had also been somewhat intent on the gratification of his own appetite, -though with an energy less evident than that of the gentleman -opposite. 'See the world on all sides if you have an opportunity; and, -believe me, a good dinner now and then is a very good thing.' - -'Yes; but I don't like eating with hogs.' - -'Whish-h! softly, softly, Mr Gresham, or you'll disturb Mr Apjohn's -digestion. Upon my word, he'll want it all before he has done. Now, I -like this kind of thing once in a way.' - -'Do you?' said Frank, in a tone that was almost savage. - -'Yes; indeed I do. One sees so much character. And after all, what -harm does it do?' - -'My idea is that people should live with those whose society is -pleasant to them.' - -'Live--yes, Mr Gresham--I agree with you there. It wouldn't do for me -to live with the Duke of Omnium; I shouldn't understand, or probably -approve, his ways. Nor should I, perhaps, much like the constant -presence of Mr Apjohn. But now and then--once in a year or so--I do own -I like to see them both. Here's the cup; now, whatever you do, Mr -Gresham, don't pass the cup without tasting it.' - -And so the dinner passed on, slowly enough as Frank thought, but all -too quickly for Mr Apjohn. It passed away, and the wine came -circulating freely. The tongues again were loosed, the teeth being -released from their labours, and under the influence of the claret the -duke's presence was forgotten. - -But very speedily the coffee was brought. 'This will soon be over -now,' said Frank, to himself, thankfully; for, though he be no means -despised good claret, he had lost his temper too completely to enjoy it -at the present moment. But he was much mistaken; the farce as yet was -only at its commencement. The duke took his cup of coffee, and so did -the few friends who sat close to him; but the beverage did not seem to -be in great request with the majority of the guests. When the duke had -taken his modicum, he rose up and silently retired, saying no word and -making no sign. And then the farce commenced. - -'Now, gentlemen,' said Mr Fothergill, cheerily, 'we are all right. -Apjohn, is there claret there? Mr Bolus, I know you stick to the -Madeira; you are quite right, for there isn't too much of it left, and -my belief is there'll never be more like it.' - -And so the duke's hospitality went on, and the duke's guests drank -merrily for the next two hours. - -'Shan't we see any more of him?' asked Frank. - -'Any more of whom?' said Mr Athill. - -'Of the duke?' - -'Oh, no; you'll see no more of him. He always goes when the coffee -comes. It's brought in as an excuse. We've had enough of the light of -his countenance to last till next year. The duke and I are excellent -friends; and have been so these fifteen years; but I never see more of -him than that.' - -'I shall go away,' said Frank. - -'Nonsense. Mr de Courcy and your other friend won't stir for this hour -yet.' - -'I don't care. I shall walk on, and they may catch me. I may be -wrong; but it seems to me that a man insults me when he asks me to dine -with him and never speaks to me. I don't care if he be ten times Duke -of Omnium; he can't be more than a gentleman, and as such I am his -equal.' And then, having thus given vent to his feelings in somewhat -high-flown language, he walked forth and trudged away along the road -towards Courcy. - -Frank Gresham had been born and bred a Conservative, whereas the Duke -of Omnium was well known as a consistent Whig. There is no one so -devoutly resolved to admit of no superior as your Conservative, born -and bred, no one so inclined to high domestic despotism as your -thoroughgoing consistent old Whig. - -When he had proceeded about six miles, Frank was picked up by his -friends; but even then his anger had hardly cooled. - -'Was the duke as civil as ever when you took your leave of him?' said -he to his cousin George, as he took his seat on the drag. - -'The juke was jeuced jude wine--lem me tell you that, old fella,' -hiccupped out the Honourable George, as he touched up the leader under -the flank. - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE PROPOSAL - -And now the departure from Courcy Castle came rapidly one after the -other, and there remained but one more evening before Miss Dunstable's -carriage was to be packed. The countess, in the early moments of -Frank's courtship, had controlled his ardour and checked the rapidity -of his amorous professions; but as days, and at last weeks, wore away, -she found that it was necessary to stir the fire which she had before -endeavoured to slacken. - -'There will be nobody here to-night but our own circle,' said she to -him, 'and I really think you should tell Miss Dunstable what your -intentions are. She will have fair ground to complain of you if you -don't.' - -Frank began to feel that he was in a dilemma. He had commenced making -love to Miss Dunstable partly because he liked the amusement, and -partly from a satirical propensity to quiz his aunt by appearing to -fall into her scheme. But he had overshot the mark, and did not know -what answer to give when he was thus called upon to make a downright -proposal. And then, although he did not care two rushes about Miss -Dunstable in the way of love, he nevertheless experienced a sort of -jealousy when he found that she appeared to be indifferent to him, and -that she corresponded the meanwhile with his cousin George. Though all -their flirtations had been carried on on both sides palpably by way of -fun, though Frank had told himself ten times a day that his heart was -true to Mary Thorne, yet he had an undefined feeling that it behoved -Miss Dunstable to be a little in love with him. He was not quite at -ease in that she was not a little melancholy now that his departure was -so nigh; and, above all, he was anxious to know what were the real -facts about that letter. He had in his own breast threatened Miss -Dunstable with a heartache; and now, when the time for their separation -came, he found that his own heart was the more likely to ache of the -two. - -'I suppose I must say something to her, or my aunt will never be -satisfied,' said he to himself as he sauntered into the little -drawing-room on that last evening. But at the very time he was ashamed -of himself, for he knew he was going to ask badly. - -His sister and one of his cousins were in the room, but his aunt, who -was quite on the alert, soon got them out of it, and Frank and Miss -Dunstable were alone. - -'So all our fun and all our laughter is come to an end,' said she, -beginning the conversation. 'I don't know how you feel, but for myself -I really am a little melancholy at the idea of parting;' and she looked -up at him with her laughing black eyes, as though she never had, and -never could have a care in the world. - -'Melancholy! oh, yes; you look so,' said Frank, who really did feel -somewhat lackadaisically sentimental. - -'But how thoroughly glad the countess must be that we are both going,' -continued she. 'I declare we have treated her most infamously. Ever -since we've been here we've had the amusement to ourselves. I've -sometimes thought she would turn me out of the house.' - -'I wish with all my heart she had.' - -'Oh, you cruel barbarian! why on earth should you wish that?' - -'That I might have joined you in your exile. I hate Courcy Castle, and -should have rejoiced to leave--and--and--' - -'And what?' - -'And I love Miss Dunstable, and should have doubly, trebly rejoiced to -leave it with her.' - -Frank's voice quivered a little as he made this gallant profession; but -still Miss Dunstable only laughed the louder. 'Upon my word, of all my -knights you are by far the best behaved,' said she, 'and say much the -prettiest things.' Frank became rather red in the face, and felt that -he did so. Miss Dunstable was treating him like a boy. While she -pretended to be so fond of him she was only laughing at him, and -corresponding the while with his cousin George. Now Frank Gresham -already entertained a sort of contempt for his cousin, which increased -the bitterness of his feelings. Could it really be possible that -George had succeeded while he had utterly failed; that his stupid -cousin had touched the heart of the heiress while she was playing with -him as with a boy? - -'Of all your knights! Is that the way you talk to me when we are going -to part? When was it, Miss Dunstable, that George de Courcy became one -of them?' - -Miss Dunstable for a while looked serious enough. 'What makes you ask -that?' said she. 'What makes you inquire about Mr de Courcy?' - -'Oh, I have eyes, you know, and can't help seeing. Not that I see, or -have seen anything that I could possibly help.' - -'And what have you seen, Mr Gresham?' - -'Why, I know you have been writing to him.' - -'Did he tell you so?' - -'No; he did not tell me; but I know it.' - -For a moment she sat silent, and then her face again resumed its usual -happy smile. 'Come, Mr Gresham, you are not going to quarrel with me, -I hope, even if I did write a letter to your cousin. Why should I not -write to him? I correspond with all manner of people. I'll write to -you some of these days if you'll let me, and will promise to answer my -letters.' - -Frank threw himself back on the sofa on which he was sitting, and, in -doing so, brought himself somewhat nearer to his companion than he had -been; he then drew his hand slowly across his forehead, pushing back -his thick hair, and as he did so he sighed somewhat plaintively. - -'I do not care,' said he, 'for the privilege of correspondence on such -terms. If my cousin George is to be a correspondent of yours also, I -will give up my claim.' - -And then he sighed again, so that it was piteous to hear him. He was -certainly an arrant puppy, and an egregious ass into the bargain; but -then, it must be remembered in his favour that he was only twenty-one, -and that much had been done to spoil him. Miss Dunstable did remember -this, and therefore abstained from laughing at him. - -'Why, Mr Gresham, what on earth do you mean? In all human probability -I shall never write another line to Mr de Courcy; but, if I did, what -possible harm could it do you?' - -'Oh, Miss Dunstable! you do not in the least understand what my -feelings are.' - -'Don't I? Then I hope I never shall. I thought I did. I thought -they were the feelings of a good, true-hearted friend; feelings that I -could sometimes look back upon with pleasure as being honest when so -much that one meets is false. I have become very fond of you, Mr -Gresham, and I should be sorry to think that I did not understand your -feelings.' - -This was almost worse and worse. Young ladies like Miss Dunstable--for -she was still to be numbered in the category of young ladies--do not -usually tell young gentlemen that they are very fond of them. To boys -and girls they may make such a declaration. Now Frank Gresham regarded -himself as one who had already fought his battles, and fought them not -without glory; he could not therefore endure to be thus openly told by -Miss Dunstable that she was very fond of him. - -'Fond of me, Miss Dunstable! I wish you were.' - -'So I am--very.' - -'You little know how fond I am of you, Miss Dunstable,' and he put out -his hand to take hold of hers. She then lifted up her own, and slapped -him lightly on the knuckles. - -'And what can you have to say to say to Miss Dunstable that can make it -necessary that you should pinch her hand? I tell you fairly, Mr -Gresham, if you make a fool of yourself, I shall come to a conclusion -that you are all fools, and that it is hopeless to look out for any one -worth caring for.' - -Such advice as this, so kindly given, so wisely meant, so clearly -intelligible he should have taken and understood, young as he was. but -even yet he did not do so. - -'A fool of myself! Yes; I suppose I must be a fool if I have so much -regard for Miss Dunstable as to make it painful for me to know that I -am to see her no more: a fool: yes, of course I am a fool--a man is -always a fool when he loves.' - -Miss Dunstable could not pretend to doubt his meaning any longer; and -was determined to stop him, let it cost what it would. She now put out -her hand, not over white, and, as Frank soon perceived, gifted with a -very fair allowance of strength. - -'Now, Mr Gresham,' said she, 'before you go any further you shall -listen to me. Will you listen to me for a moment without interrupting -me?' - -Frank was of course obliged to promise that he would do so. - -'You are going--or rather you were going, for I shall stop you--to make -a profession of love.' - -'A profession!' said Frank making a slight unsuccessful effort to get -his hand free. - -'Yes; a profession--a false profession, Mr Gresham,--a false profession-- -a false profession. Look into your heart--into your heart of hearts. I -know you at any rate have a heart; look into it closely. Mr Gresham, -you know you do not love me; not as a man should love the woman he -swears to love.' - -Frank was taken aback. So appealed to he found that he could not any -longer say that he did love her. He could only look into her face with -all his eyes, and sit there listening to her. - -'How is it possible that you should love me? I am Heaven knows how -many years your senior. I am neither young nor beautiful, nor have I -been brought up as she should be whom you in time will really love and -make your wife. I have nothing that should make you love me; but--but I -am rich.' - -'It is not that,' said Frank, stoutly, feeling himself imperatively -called upon to utter something in his own defence. - -'Ah, Mr Gresham, I fear it is that. For what other reason can you have -laid your plans to talk in this way to such a woman as I am?' - -'I have laid no plans,' said Frank, now getting his hand to himself. -'At any rate, you wrong me there, Miss Dunstable.' - -'I like you so well--nay, love you, if a woman may talk of love in the -way of friendship--that if money, money alone would make you happy, you -should have it heaped on you. If you want it, Mr Gresham, you shall -have it.' - -'I have never thought of your money,' said Frank, surlily. - -'But it grieves me,' continued she, 'it does grieve me, to think that -you, you, you--so young and gay, so bright--that you should have looked -for it in this way. From others I have taken it just as the wind that -whistles;' and now two big slow tears escaped from her eyes, and would -have rolled down her rosy cheeks were it not that she brushed them off -with the back of her hand. - -'You have utterly mistaken me, Miss Dunstable,' said Frank. - -'If I have, I will humbly beg your pardon,' said she, 'but--but--but--' - -Frank had nothing further to say in his own defence. He had not wanted -Miss Dunstable's money--that was true; but he could not deny that he had -been about to talk that absolute nonsense of which she spoke with so -much scorn. - -'You would almost make me think that there are none honest in this -fashionable world of yours. I well know why Lady de Courcy has had me -here: how could I help knowing it? She has been so foolish in her -plans that ten times a day she has told me her own secret. But I have -said to myself twenty times, that if she were crafty, you were honest.' - -'And am I dishonest?' - -'I have laughed in my sleeve to see how she played her game, and to -hear others around playing theirs; all of them thinking that they could -get the money of the poor fool who had come at their beck and call; but -I was able to laugh at them as long as I thought that I had one true -friend to laugh with me. But one cannot laugh with all the world -against one.' - -'I am not against you, Miss Dunstable.' - -'Sell yourself for money! why, if I were a man I would not sell one jot -of liberty for mountains of gold. What! tie myself in the heyday of my -youth to a person I could never love, for a price! perjure myself, -destroy myself--and not only myself, but her also, in order that I might -live idly! Oh, heavens! Mr Gresham! can it be that the words of such -a woman as your aunt have sunk so deeply in your heart; have blackened -you so foully as this? Have you forgotten your soul, your spirit, your -man's energy, the treasure of your heart? And you, so young! For -shame, Mr Gresham! for shame--for shame.' - -Frank found the task before him by no means an easy one. He had to -make Miss Dunstable understand that he had never had the slightest idea -of marrying her, and that he had made love to her merely with the -object of keeping his hand in for the work as it were; with that -object, and the other equally laudable one of interfering with his -cousin George. - -And yet there was nothing for him but to get through this task as best -he might. He was goaded to it by the accusations which Miss Dunstable -brought against him; and he began to feel, that though her invective -against him might be bitter when he had told the truth, they could not -be so bitter as those she now kept hinting at under her mistaken -impression as to his views. He had never had any strong propensity for -money-hunting; but now that offence appeared in his eyes abominable, -unmanly, and disgusting. Any imputation would be better than that. - -'Miss Dunstable, I never for a moment thought of doing what you accuse -me of; on my honour, I never did. I have been very foolish--very -wrong--idiotic, I believe; but I have never intended that.' - -'Then, Mr Gresham, what did you intend?' - -This was rather a difficult question to answer; and Frank was not very -quick in attempting it. 'I know you will not forgive me,' he said at -last; 'and, indeed, I do not see how you can. I don't know how it came -about; but this is certain, Miss Dunstable; I have never for a moment -thought about your fortune; that is, thought about it in the way of -coveting it.' - -'You never thought of making me your wife, then?' - -'Never,' said Frank, looking boldly into her face. - -'You never intended really to propose to go with me to the altar, and -then make yourself rich by one great perjury?' - -'Never for a moment,' said he. - -'You have never gloated over me as the bird of prey gloats over the -poor beast that is soon to become carrion beneath its claws? You have -not counted me out as equal to so much land, and calculated on me as a -balance at your banker's? Ah, Mr Gresham,' she continued, seeing that -he stared as though struck almost with awe by her strong language; 'you -little guess what a woman situated as I am has to suffer.' - -'I have behaved badly to you, Miss Dunstable, and I beg your pardon; -but I have never thought of your money.' - -'Then we will be friends again, Mr Gresham, won't we? It is so nice to -have a friend like you. There, I think I understand it now; you need -not tell me.' - -'It was half by way of making a fool of my aunt,' said Frank, in an -apologetic tone. - -'There is merit in that, at any rate,' said Miss Dunstable. 'I -understand it all now; you thought to make a fool of me in real -earnest. Well, I can forgive that; at any rate it is not mean.' - -It may be, that Miss Dunstable did not feel much acute anger at finding -that this young man had addressed her with words of love in the course -of an ordinary flirtation, although that flirtation had been unmeaning -and silly. This was not the offence against which her heart and breast -had found peculiar cause to arm itself; this was not the injury from -which she had hitherto experienced suffering. - -At any rate, she and Frank again became friends, and, before the -evening was over, they perfectly understood each other. Twice during -this long tete-a-tete Lady de Courcy came into the room to see how -things were going on, and twice she went out almost unnoticed. It was -quite clear to her that something uncommon had taken place, was taking -place, or would take place; and that should this be for weal or for -woe, no good could not come from her interference. On each occasion, -therefore, she smiled sweetly on the pair of turtle-doves, and glided -out of the room as quietly as she had glided into it. - -But at last it became necessary to remove them; for the world had gone -to bed. Frank, in the meantime, had told to Miss Dunstable all his -love for Mary Thorne, and Miss Dunstable had enjoined him to be true to -his vows. To her eyes there was something of heavenly beauty in young, -true love--of beauty that was heavenly because it had been unknown to -her. - -'Mind you let me hear, Mr Gresham,' said she. 'Mind you do; and, Mr -Gresham, never, never forget her for one moment; not for one moment, Mr -Gresham.' - -Frank was about to swear that he never would--again, when the countess, -for the third time, sailed into the room. - -'Young people,' said she, 'do you know what o'clock it is?' - -'Dear me, Lady de Courcy, I declare it is past twelve; I really am -ashamed of myself. How glad you will be to get rid of me to-morrow!' - -'No, no, indeed we shan't; shall we, Frank?' and so Miss Dunstable -passed out. - -Then once again the aunt tapped her nephew with her fan. It was the -last time in her life that she did so. He looked up in her face, and -his look was enough to tell her that the acres of Greshamsbury were not -to be reclaimed by the ointment of Lebanon. - -Nothing further on the subject was said. On the following morning Miss -Dunstable took her departure, not much heeding the rather cold words of -farewell which her hostess gave her; and on the following day Frank -started for Greshamsbury. - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -MR MOFFAT FALLS INTO TROUBLE - -We will now, with the reader's kind permission, skip over some months -in our narrative. Frank returned from Courcy Castle to Greshamsbury, -and having communicated to his mother--much in the same manner as he had -to the countess--the fact that his mission had been unsuccessful, he -went up after a day or two to Cambridge. During his short stay at -Greshamsbury he did not even catch a glimpse of Mary. He asked for -her, of course, and was told that it was not likely that she would be -at the house just at present. He called at the doctor's, but she was -denied to him there; 'she was out,' Janet said,--'probably with Miss -Oriel.' He went to the parsonage and found Miss Oriel at home; but -Mary had not been seen that morning. He then returned to the house; -and, having come to the conclusion that she had not thus vanished into -air, otherwise than by preconcerted arrangement, he boldly taxed -Beatrice on the subject. - -Beatrice looked very demure; declared that no one in the house had -quarrelled with Mary; confessed that it had been thought prudent that -she should for a while stay away from Greshamsbury; and, of course, -ended by telling her brother everything, including all the scenes that -had passed between Mary and herself. - -'It is out of the question your thinking of marrying her, Frank,' said -she. 'You must know that nobody feels it more strongly than poor Mary -herself;' and Beatrice looked the very personification of domestic -prudence. - -'I know nothing of the kind,' said he, with the headlong imperative air -that was usual with him in discussing matters with his sisters. 'I -know nothing of the kind. Of course I cannot say what Mary's feelings -may be: a pretty life she must have had of it among you. But you may -be sure of this, Beatrice, and so may my mother, that nothing on earth -shall make me give her up--nothing.' And Frank, as he made this -protestation, strengthened his own resolution by thinking of all the -counsel that Miss Dunstable had given him. - -The brother and sister could hardly agree, as Beatrice was dead against -the match. Not that she would not have liked Mary Thorne for a -sister-in-law, but that she shared to a certain degree the feeling -which was now common to all the Greshams--that Frank must marry money. -It seemed, at any rate, to be imperative that he should either do that -or not marry at all. Poor Beatrice was not very mercenary in her -views: she had no wish to sacrifice her brother to any Miss Dunstable; -but yet she felt, as they all felt--Mary Thorne included--that such as a -match as that, of the young heir with the doctor's niece, was not to be -thought of;--not to be spoken of as a thing that was in any way -possible. Therefore, Beatrice, though she was Mary's great friend, -though she was her brother's favourite sister, could give Frank no -encouragement. Poor Frank! circumstances had made but one bride -possible to him: he must marry money. - -His mother said nothing to him on the subject: when she learnt that the -affair with Miss Dunstable was not to come off, she merely remarked -that it would perhaps be best for him to return to Cambridge as soon as -possible. Had she spoken her mind out, she would probably have also -advised him to remain there as long as possible. The countess had not -omitted to write to her when Frank had left Courcy Castle; and the -countess's letter certainly made the anxious mother think that her -son's education had hardly yet been completed. With this secondary -object, but with that of keeping him out of the way of Mary Thorne in -the first place, Lady Arabella was now quite satisfied that her son -should enjoy such advantages as an education completed at the -university might give him. - -With his father Frank had a long conversation; but, alas! the gist of -his father's conversation was this, that it behoved him, Frank, to -marry money. The father, however, did not put it to him in the cold, -callous way in which his lady-aunt had done, and his lady-mother. He -did not bid him go and sell himself to the first female he could find -possessed of wealth. It was with inward self-reproaches, and true grief -of spirit, that the father told the son that it was not possible for -him to do as those who may do who are born really rich, or really poor. - -'If you marry a girl without a fortune, Frank, how are you to live?' -the father asked, after having confessed how deep he himself had -injured his own heir. - -'I don't care about money, sir,' said Frank. 'I shall be just as happy -if Boxall Hill had never been sold. I don't care a straw about that -sort of thing.' - -'Ah! my boy; but you will care: you will soon find that you do care.' - -'Let me go into some profession. Let me go to the Bar. I am sure I -could earn my own living. Earn it! of course I could, why not I as -well as others? I should like of all things to be a barrister.' - -There was much more of the same kind, in which Frank said all that he -could think of to lessen his father's regrets. In their conversation -not a word was spoken about Mary Thorne. Frank was not aware whether -or no his father had been told of the great family danger which was -dreaded in that quarter. That he had been told, we may surmise, as -Lady Arabella was not wont to confine the family dangers to her own -bosom. Moreover, Mary's presence had, of course, been missed. The -truth was, that the squire had been told, with great bitterness, of -what had come to pass, and all the evil had been laid at his door. He -it had been who hand encouraged Mary to be regarded almost as a -daughter of the house of Greshamsbury: he it was who taught that odious -doctor--odious on all but his aptitude for good doctoring--to think -himself a fit match for the aristocracy of the county. It had been his -fault, this great necessity that Frank should marry money; and now it -was his fault that Frank was absolutely talking of marrying a pauper. - -By no means in quiescence did the squire hear these charges brought -against him. The Lady Arabella, in each attack, got quite as much as -she gave, and, at last, was driven to retreat in a state of headache, -which she declared to be chronic; and which, so she assured her -daughter Augusta, must prevent her from having any more lengthened -conversations with her lord--at any rate for the next three months. But -though the squire may be said to have come off on the whole as the -victor in these combats, they did not perhaps have, on that account, -the less effect upon him. He knew it was true that he had done much -towards ruining his son; and he also could think of no other remedy -than matrimony. It was Frank's doom, pronounced even by the voice of -his father, that he must marry money. - -And so, Frank went off again to Cambridge, feeling himself, as he went, -to be a much lesser man in Greshamsbury estimation than he had been -some two months earlier, when his birthday had been celebrated. Once -during his short stay at Greshamsbury he had seen the doctor; but the -meeting had been anything but pleasant. He had been afraid to ask -after Mary; and the doctor had been too diffident of himself to speak -of her. They had met casually on the road, and, though each in his -heart loved the other, the meeting had been anything but pleasant. - -And so Frank went to Cambridge; and, as he did so, he stoutly resolved -that nothing should make him untrue to Mary Thorne. 'Beatrice,' said -he, on the morning he went away, when she came into his room to -superintend his packing--'Beatrice, if she ever talks about me--' - -'Oh, Frank, my darling Frank, don't think of it--it is madness; she -knows it is madness.' - -'Never mind; if she ever talks about me, tell her that the last word I -said was, that I would never forget her. She can do as she likes.' - -Beatrice made no promise, never hinted that she would give the message; -but it may be taken for granted that she had not been long in company -with Mary Thorne before she did give it. - -And then there were other troubles at Greshamsbury. It had been -decided that Augusta's marriage was to take place in September; but Mr -Moffat had, unfortunately, been obliged to postpone the happy day. He -himself had told Augusta--not, of course, without protestations as to -his regret--and had written to this effect to Mr Gresham, -'Electioneering matters, and other troubles had,' he said, 'made this -peculiarly painful postponement absolutely necessary.' - -Augusta seemed to bear her misfortune with more equanimity than is, we -believe, usual with young ladies under such circumstances. She spoke -of it to her mother in a very matter-of-fact way, and seemed almost -contented at the idea of remaining at Greshamsbury till February; which -was the time now named for the marriage. But Lady Arabella was not -equally well satisfied, nor was the squire. - -'I half believe that fellow is not honest,' he had once said out loud -before Frank, and this set Frank a-thinking of what dishonesty in the -matter it was probable that Mr Moffat might be guilty, and what would -be the fitting punishment for such a crime. Nor did he think on the -subject in vain; especially after a conference on the matter which he -had with his friend Harry Baker. This conference took place during the -Christmas vacation. - -It should be mentioned, that the time spent by Frank at Courcy Castle -had not done much to assist him in his views as to an early degree, and -that it had at last been settled that he should stay up at Cambridge -another year. When he came home at Christmas he found that the house -was not peculiarly lively. Mary was absent on a visit with Miss -Oriel. Both these young ladies were staying with Miss Oriel's aunt, in -the neighbourhood of London; and Frank soon learnt that there was no -chance that either of them would be home before his return. No message -had been left for him by Mary--none at least had been left with -Beatrice; and he began in his heart to accuse her of coldness and -perfidy;--not, certainly, with much justice, seeing that she had never -given him the slightest encouragement. - -The absence of Patience Oriel added to the dullness of the place. It -was certainly hard upon Frank that all the attraction of the village -should be removed to make way and prepare for his return--harder, -perhaps, on them; for, to tell the truth, Miss Oriel's visit had been -entirely planned to enable her to give Mary a comfortable way of -leaving Greshamsbury during the time that Frank should remain at home. -Frank thought himself cruelly used. But what did Mr Oriel think when -doomed to eat his Christmas pudding alone, because the young squire -would be unreasonable in his love? What did the doctor think, as he -sat solitary by his deserted hearth--the doctor, who no longer permitted -himself to enjoy the comforts of the Greshamsbury dining-table? Frank -hinted and grumbled; talked to Beatrice of the determined constancy of -his love, and occasionally consoled himself by a stray smile from some -of the neighbouring belles. The black horse was made perfect; the old -grey pony was by no means discarded; and much that was satisfactory was -done in the sporting line. But still the house was dull, and Frank -felt that he was the cause of its being so. Of the doctor he saw but -little: he never came to Greshamsbury, unless to see Lady Arabella as -doctor, or to be closeted with the squire. There were no special -evenings with him; no animated confabulations at the doctor's house; no -discourses between them, as there was wont to be, about the merits of -the different covers, and the capacities of the different hounds. These -were dull days on the whole for Frank; and sad enough, we may say, for -our friend the doctor. - -In February Frank again went back to college; having settled with Harry -Baker certain affairs which weighed on his mind. He went back to -Cambridge, promising to be home on the twentieth of the month, so as to -be present at his sister's wedding. A cold and chilling time had been -named for these hymeneal joys, but one not altogether unsuited to the -feelings of the happy pair. February is certainly not a warm month; -but with the rich it is generally a cosy, comfortable time. Good -fires, winter cheer, groaning tables, and warm blankets, make a -fictitious summer, which, to some tastes, is more delightful than the -long days and the hot sun. And some marriages are especially winter -matches. They depend for their charm on the same substantial -attractions: instead of heart beating to heart in sympathetic unison, -purse chinks to purse. The rich new furniture of the new abode is -looked to instead of the rapture of a pure embrace. The new carriage -is depended on rather than the new heart's companion; and the first -bright gloss, prepared by the upholsterer's hands, stands in lieu of -the rosy tints which young love lends to his true votaries. - -Mr Moffat had not spent his Christmas at Greshamsbury. That eternal -election petition, those eternal lawyers, the eternal care of his -well-managed wealth, forbade him the enjoyment of any such pleasures. -He could not come to Greshamsbury for Christmas, nor yet for the -festivities of the new year; but now and then he wrote prettily worded -notes, sending occasionally a silver-gilt pencil-case, or a small -brooch, and informed Lady Arabella that he looked forward to the -twentieth of February with great satisfaction. But, in the meanwhile, -the squire became anxious, and at last went up to London; and Frank, -who was at Cambridge, bought the heaviest-cutting whip to be found in -that town, and wrote a confidential letter to Harry Baker. - -Poor Mr Moffat! It is well known that none but the brave deserve the -fair; but thou, without much excuse for bravery, had secured for -thyself one who, at any rate, was fair enough for thee. Would it not -have been well hadst thou looked to thyself to see what real bravery -might be in thee, before thou hadst prepared to desert this fair one -thou hadst already won? That last achievement, one may say, did require -some special courage. - -Poor Mr Moffat! It is wonderful that as he sat in that gig, going to -Gatherum Castle, planning how he would be off with Miss Gresham and -afterwards on with Miss Dunstable, it is wonderful that he should not -then have cast his eye behind him, and looked at that stalwart pair of -shoulders which were so close to his own back. As he afterwards -pondered on his scheme while sipping the duke's claret, it is odd that -he should not have observed the fiery pride of purpose and power of -wrath which was so plainly written on that young man's brow: or, when -he matured, and finished, and carried out his purpose, that he did not -think of that keen grasp which had already squeezed his own hand with -somewhat too warm a vigour, even in the way of friendship. - -Poor Mr Moffat! it is probable that he forgot to think of Frank at all -as connected with his promised bride; it is probable that he looked -forward only to the squire's violence and the enmity of the house of -Courcy; and that he found from enquiry at his heart's pulses, that he -was man enough to meet these. Could he have guessed what a whip Frank -Gresham would have bought at Cambridge--could he have divined what a -letter would have been written to Harry Baker--it is probable, nay, we -think we may say certain, that Miss Gresham would have become Mrs -Moffat. - -Miss Gresham, however, never did become Mrs Moffat. About two days -after Frank's departure for Cambridge--it is just possible that Mr -Moffat was so prudent as to make himself aware of the fact--but just two -days after Frank's departure, a very long, elaborate, and clearly -explanatory letter was received at Greshamsbury. Mr Moffat was quite -sure that Miss Gresham and her very excellent parents would do him the -justice to believe that he was not actuated, &c, &c, &c. The long and -the short of this was, that Mr Moffat signified his intention of -breaking off the match without offering any intelligible reason. - -Augusta again bore her disappointment well: not, indeed, without sorrow -and heartache, and inward, hidden tears; but still well. She neither -raved, nor fainted, nor walked about by moonlight alone. She wrote no -poetry, and never once thought of suicide. When, indeed, she -remembered the rosy-tinted lining, the unfathomable softness of that -Long-acre carriage, her spirit did for one moment give way; but, on the -whole, she bore it as a strong-minded woman and a De Courcy should do. - -But both Lady Arabella and the squire were greatly vexed. The former -had made the match, and the latter, having consented to it, had -incurred deeper responsibilities to enable him to bring it about. The -money which was to have been given to Mr Moffat was still to the fore; -but alas! how much, how much that he could ill spare, had been thrown -away in bridal preparations! It is, moreover, an unpleasant thing for -a gentleman to have his daughter jilted; perhaps peculiarly so to have -her jilted by a tailor's son. - -Lady Arabella's woe was really piteous. It seemed to her as though -cruel fate were heaping misery after misery upon the wretched house of -Greshamsbury. A few weeks since things were going so well with her! -Frank then was still all but the accepted husband of almost untold -wealth--so, at least, she was informed by her sister-in-law--whereas, -Augusta, was the accepted wife of wealth, not indeed untold, but of -dimensions quite sufficiently respectable to cause much joy in the -telling. Where now were her golden hopes? Where now the splendid -future of her poor duped children? Augusta was left to pine alone; and -Frank, in a still worse plight, insisted on maintaining his love for a -bastard and a pauper. - -For Frank's affairs she had received some poor consolation by laying -all the blame on the squire's shoulders. What she had then said was -now repaid to her with interest; for not only had she been the maker of -Augusta's match, but she had boasted of the deed with all a mother's -pride. - -It was from Beatrice that Frank had obtained his tidings. This last -resolve on the part of Mr Moffat had not altogether been unsuspected by -some of the Greshams, though altogether unsuspected by the Lady -Arabella. Frank had spoken of it as a possibility to Beatrice, and was -not quite unprepared when the information reached him. He consequently -bought his cutting-whip, and wrote his confidential letter to Harry -Baker. - -On the following day Frank and Harry might have been seen, with their -heads nearly close together, leaning over one of the tables in the -large breakfast-room at the Tavistock Hotel in Covent Garden. The -ominous whip, to the handle of which Frank had already made his hand -well accustomed, was lying on the table between them; and ever and anon -Harry Baker would take it up and feel its weight approvingly. Oh, Mr -Moffat! poor Mr Moffat! go not out into the fashionable world to-day; -above all, go not to that club of thine in Pall Mall; but, oh! -especially go not there, as is thy wont to do, at three o'clock in the -afternoon! - -With much care did those two young generals lay their plans of attack. -Let it not for a moment be thought that it was ever in the minds of -either of them that two men should attack one. But it was thought that -Mr Moffat might be rather coy in coming out from his seclusion to meet -the proffered hand of his once intended brother-in-law when he should -see that hand armed with a heavy whip. Baker, therefore, was content -to act as a decoy duck, and remarked that he might no doubt make -himself useful in restraining the public mercy, and, probably, in -controlling the interference of policemen. - -'It will be deuced hard if I can't get five or six shies at him,' said -Frank, again clutching his weapon almost spasmodically. Oh, Mr -Moffat! five or six shies with such a whip, and such an arm! For -myself, I would sooner join the second Balaclava gallop than encounter -it. - -At ten minutes before four these two heroes might be seen walking up -Pall Mall, towards the --- Club. Young Baker walked with an eager -disengaged air. Mr Moffat did not know his appearance; he had, -therefore, no anxiety to pass along unnoticed. But Frank had in some -mysterious way drawn his hat very far over his forehead, and had -buttoned his shooting-coat up round his chin. Harry had recommended to -him a great-coat, in order that he might the better conceal his face; -but Frank had found the great-coat was an encumbrance to his arm. He -put it on, and when thus clothed he had tried the whip, he found that -he cut the air with much less potency than in the lighter garment. He -contented himself, therefore, with looking down on the pavement as he -walked along, letting the long point of the whip stick up from his -pocket, and flattering himself that even Mr Moffat would not recognise -him at the first glance. Poor Mr Moffat! If he had but had the -chance! - -And now, having arrived at the front of the club, the two friends for a -moment separate: Frank remains standing on the pavement, under the -shade of the high stone area-railing, while Harry jauntily skips up -three steps at a time, and with a very civil word of inquiry of the -hall porter, sends his card to Mr Moffat-- - -'MR HARRY BAKER' - -Mr Moffat, never having heard of such a gentleman in his life, -unwittingly comes out into the hall, and Harry, with the sweetest -smile, addresses him. - -Now the plan of the campaign had been settled in this wise: Baker was -to send into the club for Mr Moffat, and invite that gentleman down -into the street. It was probable that the invitation might be -declined; and it had been calculated in such case the two gentlemen -would retire for parley into the strangers' room, which was known to be -immediately opposite the hall door. Frank was to keep his eye on the -portals, and if he found that Mr Moffat did not appear as readily as -might be desired, he also was to ascend the steps and hurry into the -strangers' room. Then, whether he met Mr Moffat there or elsewhere, or -wherever, he might meet him, he was to greet him with all the friendly -vigour in his power, while Harry disposed of the club porters. - -But fortune, who ever favours the brave, specially favoured Frank -Gresham on this occasion. Just as Harry Baker had put his card into the -servant's hand, Mr Moffat, with his hat on, prepared for the street, -appeared in the hall; Mr Baker addressed him with his sweetest smile, -and begged the pleasure of saying a word or two as they descended into -the street. Had not Mr Moffat been going thither it would have been very -improbable that he should have done so at Harry's instance. But, as it -was, he merely looked rather solemn at his visitor--it was his wont to -look solemn--and continued the descent of the steps. - -Frank, his heart leaping the while, saw his prey, and retreated two -steps behind the area-railing, the dread weapon already well poised in -his hand. Oh! Mr Moffat! Mr Moffat! if there be any goddess to -interfere in thy favour, let her come forward now without delay; let -her now bear thee off on a cloud if there be one to whom thou art -sufficiently dear! But there is no such goddess. - -Harry smiled blandly till they were well on the pavement, saying some -nothing, and keeping the victim's face averted from the avenging angel; -and then, when the raised hand was sufficiently nigh, he withdrew two -steps towards the nearest lamp-post. Not for him was the honour of the -interview;--unless, indeed, succouring policemen might give occasion -for some gleam of glory. - -But succouring policemen were no more to be come by than goddesses. -Where were ye, men, when that savage whip fell about the ears of the -poor ex-legislator? In Scotland Yard, sitting dozing on your benches, -or talking soft nothings to the housemaids round the corner; for ye -were not walking on your beats, nor standing at coign of vantage, to -watch the tumults of the day. Had Sir Richard himself been on the spot -Frank Gresham would still, we may say, have had his five shies at that -unfortunate one. - -When Harry Baker quickly seceded from the way, Mr Moffat at once saw -the fate before him. His hair doubtless stood on end, and his voice -refused to give the loud screech with which he sought to invoke the -club. An ashy paleness suffused his cheeks, and his tottering steps -were unable to bear him away in flight. Once, and twice, the cutting -whip came well down across his back. Had he been wise enough to stand -still and take his thrashing in that attitude, it would have been well -for him. But men so circumstanced have never such prudence. After two -blows he made a dash at the steps, thinking to get back into the club; -but Harry, who had by no means reclined in idleness against the -lamp-post, here stopped him: 'You had better go back into the street,' -said Harry; 'indeed you had,' giving him a shove from off the second -step. - -Then of course Frank could do no other than hit him anywhere. When a -gentleman is dancing about with much energy it is hardly possible to -strike him fairly on his back. The blows, therefore, came now on his -legs and now on his head; and Frank unfortunately got more than his -five or six shies before he was interrupted. - -The interruption however came, all too soon for Frank's idea of -justice. Though there be no policeman to take part in a London row, -there are always others ready enough to do so; amateur policemen, who -generally sympathize with the wrong side, and, in nine cases out of -ten, expend their generous energy in protecting thieves and -pickpockets. When it was seen with what tremendous ardour that dread -weapon fell about the ears of the poor undefended gentleman, -interference was at last, in spite of Harry Baker's best endeavours, -and loudest protestations. - -'Do not interrupt them, sir,' said he; 'pray do not. It is a family -affair, and they will neither of them like it.' - -In the teeth, however, of these assurances, rude people did interfere, -and after some nine or ten shies Frank found himself encompassed by the -arms, and encumbered by the weight of a very stout gentleman, who hung -affectionately about his neck and shoulders; whereas, Mr Moffat was -already sitting in a state of syncope on the good-natured knees of a -fishmonger's apprentice. - -Frank was thoroughly out of breath: nothing came from his lips but -half-muttered expletives and unintelligible denunciations of the -iniquity of his foe. But still he struggled to be at him again. We -all know how dangerous is the taste of blood; now cruelly it will -become a custom even with the most tender-hearted. Frank felt that he -had hardly fleshed his virgin lash: he thought, almost with despair, -that he had not yet at all succeeded as became a man and a brother; his -memory told him of but one or two of the slightest touches that had -gone well home to the offender. He made a desperate effort to throw -off that incubus round his neck and rush again to the combat. - -'Harry--Harry; don't let him go--don't let him go,' he barely -articulated. - -'Do you want to murder the man, sir; to murder him?' said the stout -gentleman over his shoulder, speaking solemnly into his very ear. - -'I don't care,' said Frank, struggling manfully but uselessly. 'Let me -out, I say; I don't care--don't let him go, Harry, whatever you do.' - -'He has got it prettily tidily,' said Harry; 'I think that will perhaps -do for the present.' - -By this time there was a considerable concourse. The club steps were -crowded with members; among whom there were may of Mr Moffat's -acquaintance. Policemen now flocked up, and the question arose as to -what should be done with the originators of the affray. Frank and -Harry found that they were to consider themselves under a gentle -arrest, and Mr Moffat, in a fainting state, was carried into the -interior of the club. - -Frank, in his innocence, had intended to have celebrated this little -affair when it was over by a light repast and a bottle of claret with -his friend, and then to have gone back to Cambridge by the mail train. -He found, however, that his schemes in this respect were frustrated. He -had to get bail to attend at Marlborough Street police-office should he -be wanted within the next two or three days; and was given to -understand that he would be under the eye of the police, at any rate -until Mr Moffat should be out of danger. - -'Out of danger!' said Frank to his friend with a startled look. 'Why I -hardly got at him.' Nevertheless, they did have their slight repast, -and also their bottle of claret. - -On the second morning after this occurrence, Frank was again sitting in -that public room at the Tavistock, and Harry was again sitting opposite -to him. The whip was not now so conspicuously produced between them, -having been carefully packed up and put away among Frank's other -travelling properties. They were so sitting, rather glum, when the -door swung open, and a heavy quick step was heard advancing towards -them. It was the squire; whose arrival there had been momentarily -expected. - -'Frank,' said he--'Frank, what on earth is all this?' and as he spoke he -stretched out both hands, the right to his son and the left to his -friend. - -'He has given a blackguard a licking, that is all,' said Harry. - -Frank felt that his hand was held with a peculiarly warm grasp; and he -could not but think that his father's face, raised though his eyebrows -were--though there was on it an intended expression of amazement and, -perhaps, regret--nevertheless he could not but think that his father's -face looked kindly at him. - -'God bless my soul, my dear boy! what have you done to the man?' - -'He's not a ha'porth the worse, sir,' said Frank, still holding his -father's hand. - -'Oh, isn't he!' said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. 'He must be made -of some very strong article then.' - -'But my dear boys, I hope there's no danger. I hope there's no -danger.' - -'Danger!' said Frank, who could not yet induce himself to believe that -he had been allowed a fair chance with Mr Moffat. - -'Oh, Frank! Frank! how could you be so rash? In the middle of Pall -Mall, too. Well! well! well! All the women down at Greshamsbury will -have it that you have killed him.' - -'I almost wish I had,' said Frank. - -'Oh, Frank! Frank! But now tell me--' - -And then the father sat well pleased while he heard, chiefly from Harry -Baker, the full story of his son's prowess. And then they did not -separate without another slight repast and another bottle of claret. - -Mr Moffat retired to the country for a while, and then went abroad; -having doubtless learnt that the petition was not likely to give him a -seat for the city of Barchester. And this was the end of the wooing -with Miss Gresham. - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -SIR ROGER IS UNSEATED - -After this, little occurred at Greshamsbury, or among Greshamsbury -people, which it will be necessary for us to record. Some notice was, -of course, taking of Frank's prolonged absence from his college; and -tidings, perhaps exaggerated tidings, of what had happened at Pall Mall -were not slow to reach the High Street of Cambridge. But that affair -was gradually hushed up; and Frank went on with his studies. - -He went back to his studies: it then being an understood arrangement -between him and his father that he should not return to Greshamsbury -till the summer vacation. On this occasion, the squire and Lady -Arabella had, strange to say, been of the same mind. They both wished -to keep their son away from Miss Thorne; and both calculated, that at -his age and with his disposition, it was not probable that any passion -would last out a six month absence. 'And when that summer comes it -will be an excellent opportunity for us to go abroad,' said Lady -Arabella. 'Poor Augusta will require some change to renovate her -spirits.' - -To this last proposition the squire did not assent. It was, however, -allowed to pass over; and this much was fixed, that Frank was not to -return till midsummer. - -It will be remembered that Sir Roger Scatcherd had been elected as -sitting member for the city of Barchester; but it will also be -remembered that a petition against his return was threatened. Had the -petition depended solely on Mr Moffat, Sir Roger's seat no doubt would -have been saved by Frank Gresham's cutting whip. But such was not the -case. Mr Moffat had been put forward by the De Courcy interest; and -that noble family with its dependants was not to go to the wall because -Mr Moffat had had a thrashing. No; the petition was to go on; and Mr -Nearthewinde declared, that no petition in his hands had half so good a -chance of success. 'Chance, no, but certainty,' said Mr Nearthewinde; -for Mr Nearthewinde had learnt something with reference to that honest -publican and the payment of his little bill. - -The petition was presented and duly backed; the recognisances were -signed, and all the proper formalities formally executed; and Sir Roger -found that his seat was in jeopardy. His return had been a great -triumph to him; and, unfortunately, he had celebrated that triumph as -he had been in the habit of celebrating most of the very triumphant -occasions of his life. Though he was than hardly yet recovered from the -effects of his last attack, he indulged in another violent drinking -bout; and, strange to say, did so without any immediate visible bad -effects. - -In February he took his seat amidst the warm congratulations of all men -of his own class, and early in the month of April his case came on for -trial. Every kind of electioneering sin known to the electioneering -world was brought to his charge; he was accused of falseness, -dishonesty, and bribery of every sort: he had, it was said in the paper -of indictment, bought votes, obtained them by treating, carried them -off by violence, conquered them by strong drink, polled them twice -over, counted those of dead men, stolen them, forged them, and created -them by every possible, fictitious contrivance: there was no -description of wickedness appertaining to the task of procuring votes -of which Sir Roger had not been guilty, either by himself or by his -agents. He was quite horror-struck at the list of his own enormities. -But he was somewhat comforted when Mr Closerstil told him that the -meaning of it all was that Mr Romer, the barrister, had paid a former -bill due to Mr Reddypalm, the publican. - -'I fear he was indiscreet, Sir Roger; I really fear he was. Those -young mean always are. Being energetic, they work like horses; but -what's the use of energy without discretion, Sir Roger?' - -'But, Mr Closerstil, I knew nothing of it from first to last.' - -'The agency can be proved, Sir Roger,' said Mr Closerstil, shaking his -head. And then there was nothing further to be said on the matter. - -In these days of snow-white purity all political delinquency is -abominable in the eyes of British politicians; but no delinquency is so -abominable than the venality at elections. The sin of bribery is -damnable. It is the one sin for which, in the House of Commons, there -can be no forgiveness. When discovered, it should render the culprit -liable to political death, without hope of pardon. It is treason -against a higher throne than that on which the Queen sits. It is a -heresy which requires an auto-da-fe. It is a pollution to the whole -House, which can only be cleansed by a great sacrifice. Anathema -maranatha! out with it from amongst us, even though half of our heart's -blood be poured from the conflict! Out with it, and for ever! - -Such is the language of patriotic members with regard to bribery; and -doubtless, if sincere, they are in the right. It is a bad thing, -certainly, that a rich man should buy votes; bad also that a poor man -should sell them. By all means let us repudiate such a system with -heartfelt disgust. - -With heartfelt disgust, if we can do so, by all means; but not with -disgust pretended only and not felt in the heart at all. The laws -against bribery at elections are now so stringent that an unfortunate -candidate may easily become guilty, even though actuated by the purest -intentions. But not the less on that account does any gentleman, -ambitious of the honour of serving his country in Parliament, think it -necessary as a preliminary measure to provide a round sum of money at -his banker's. A candidate must pay for no treating, no refreshments, -no band of music; he must give neither ribbons to the girls nor ale to -the men. If a huzza be uttered in his favour, it is at his peril; it -may be necessary for him to prove before a committee that it was the -spontaneous result of British feeling in his favour, and not the -purchased result of British beer. He cannot safely ask any one to -share his hotel dinner. Bribery hides itself now in the most -impalpable shapes, and may be effected by the offer of a glass of -sherry. But not the less on this account does a poor man find that he -is quite unable to overcome the difficulties of a contested election. - -We strain at our gnats with a vengeance, but we swallow our camels with -ease. For what purpose is it that we employ those peculiarly safe men -of business--Messrs Nearthewinde and Closerstil--when we wish to win our -path through all obstacles into that sacred recess? Alas! the money is -still necessary, is still prepared, or at any rate, expended. The poor -candidate of course knows nothing of the matter till the attorney's -bill is laid before him, when all danger of petitions has passed away. -He little dreamed till then, not he, that there had been banquetings -and junketings, secret doings and deep drinkings at his expense. Poor -candidate! Poor member! Who was so ignorant as he! 'Tis true he has -paid bills before; but 'tis equally true that he specially begged his -managing friend Mr Nearthewinde, to be very careful that all was done -according to law! He pays the bill, however, and on the next election -will again employ Mr Nearthewinde. - -Now and again, at rare intervals, some glimpse into the inner sanctuary -does reach the eyes of ordinary mortal men without; some slight -accidental peep into those mysteries from when all corruption has been -so thoroughly expelled; and then, how delightfully refreshing is the -sight, when, perhaps, some ex-member, hurled from his paradise like a -fallen peri, reveals the secret of that pure heaven, and, in the agony -of his despair, tells us all that it cost him to sit for--through those -few halcyon years! - -But Mr Nearthewinde is a safe man, and easy to be employed with but -little danger. All these stringent bribery laws only enhance the value -of such very safe men as Mr Nearthewinde. To him, stringent laws -against bribery are the strongest assurance of valuable employment. -Were these laws of a nature to be evaded with ease, any indifferent -attorney might manage a candidate's affairs and enable him to take his -seat with security. - -It would have been well for Sir Roger if he had trusted solely to Mr -Closerstil; well also for Mr Romer had he never fished in those -troubled waters. In due process of time the hearing of the petition -came on, and then who so happy, sitting at his ease in the London inn, -blowing his cloud from a long pipe, with measureless content, as Mr -Reddypalm? Mr Reddypalm was the one great man of the contest. All -depended on Mr Reddypalm; and well he did his duty. - -The result of the petition was declared by the committee to be read as -follows:--that Sir Roger's election was null and void--that Sir Roger -had, by his agent, been guilty of bribery in obtaining a vote, by the -payment of a bill alleged to have been previously refused payment--this -is always a matter of course;--but that Sir Roger's agent, Mr Romer, had -been willingly guilty of bribery with reference to the transaction above -declared. Poor Sir Roger! Poor Mr Romer. - -Poor Mr Romer indeed! His fate was perhaps as sad as well might be, -and as foul a blot to the purism of these very pure times in which we -live. Not long after those days, it so happening that some -considerable amount of youthful energy and quidnunc ability were -required to set litigation afloat at Hong Kong, Mr Romer was sent -thither as the fittest man for such work, with rich assurance of future -guerdon. Who are so happy then as Mr Romer! But even among the pure -there is room for envy and detraction. Mr Romer had not yet ceased to -wonder at new worlds, as he skimmed among the islands of that southern -ocean, before the edict had gone forth for his return. There were men -sitting in that huge court of Parliament on whose breasts it lay as an -intolerable burden, that England should be represented among the -antipodes by one who had tampered with the purity of the franchise. For -them there was no rest till this great disgrace should be wiped out and -atoned for. Men they were of that calibre, that the slightest -reflection on them of such a stigma seemed to themselves to blacken -their own character. They could not break bread with satisfaction till -Mr Romer was recalled. He was recalled, and of course ruined--and the -minds of those just men were then at peace. - -To any honourable gentleman who really felt his brow suffused with a -patriotic blush, as he thought of his country dishonoured by Mr Romer's -presence at Hong Kong--to any such gentleman, if any such there were, -let all honour be given, even though the intensity of his purity may -create amazement to our less finely organized souls. But if no such -blush suffused the brow of any honourable gentleman; if Mr Romer was -recalled from quite other feelings--what then in lieu of honour shall we -allot to those honourable gentlemen who were most concerned? - -Sir Roger, however, lost his seat, and, after three months of the joys -of legislation, found himself reduced by a terrible blow to the low -level of private life. - -And the blow to him was very heavy. Men but seldom tell the truth of -what is in them, even to their dearest friends; they are ashamed of -having feelings, or rather of showing that they are troubled by any -intensity of feeling. It is the practice of the time to treat all -pursuits as though they were only half important to us, as though in -what we desire we were only half in earnest. To be visibly eager seems -childish, and is always bad policy; and men, therefore, nowadays, -though they strive as hard as ever in the service of ambition--harder -than ever in that of mammon--usually do so with a pleasant smile on, as -though after all they were but amusing themselves with the little -matter in hand. - -Perhaps it had been so with Sir Roger in those electioneering days when -he was looking for votes. At any rate, he had spoken of his seat in -Parliament as but a doubtful good. 'He was willing, indeed, to stand, -having been asked; but the thing would interfere wonderfully with his -business; and then, what did he know about Parliament? Nothing on -earth: it was the maddest scheme, but nevertheless, he was not going to -hang back when called upon--he had always been rough and ready when -wanted--and there he was now ready as ever, and rough enough too, God -knows.' - -'Twas thus that he had spoken of his coming parliamentary honours; and -men had generally taken him at his word. He had been returned, and -this success had been hailed as a great thing for the cause and class -to which he belonged. But men did not know that his inner heart will -swelling with triumph, and that his bosom could hardly contain his -pride as he reflected that the poor Barchester stone-mason was now the -representative of his native city. And so, when his seat was attacked, -he still laughed and joked. 'They were welcome to it for him,' he -said; 'he could keep it or want it; and of the two, perhaps, the want -of it would come most convenient to him. He did not exactly think that -he had bribed any one; but if the bigwigs chose to say so, it was all -one to him. He was rough and ready, now as ever,' &c &c. - -But when the struggle came, it was to him a fearful one; not the less -fearful because there was no one, no, not one friend in all the world, -to whom he could open his mind and speak out honestly what was in his -heart. To Dr Thorne he might perhaps have done so had his intercourse -with the doctor been sufficiently frequent; but it was only now and -then when he was ill, or when the squire wanted to borrow money, that -he saw Dr Thorne. He had plenty of friends, heaps of friends in the -parliamentary sense; friends who talked about him, and lauded him at -public meetings; who shook hands with him on platforms and drank his -health at dinners; but he had no friends who could sit with him over -his own hearth, in true friendship, and listen to, and sympathize with, -and moderate the sighings of the inner man. For him there was no -sympathy; no tenderness of love; no retreat, save into himself, from -the loud brass band of the outer world. - -The blow hit him terribly hard. It did not come altogether -unexpectedly, and yet, when it did come, it was all but unendurable. He -had made so much of the power of walking into that august chamber, and -sitting shoulder to shoulder in legislative equality with the sons of -dukes and the curled darlings of the nation. Money had given him -nothing, nothing but the mere feeling of brute power: with his three -hundred thousand pounds he had felt himself to be no more palpably near -to the goal of his ambition than when he had chipped stones for three -shillings and sixpence a day. But when he was led up and introduced at -that table, when he shook the old premier's hand on the floor of the -House of Commons, when he heard the honourable member for Barchester -alluded to in grave debate as the greatest living authority on railway -matters, then, indeed, he felt that he had achieved something. - -And now this cup was ravished from his lips, almost before it was -tasted. When he was first told as a certainty that the decision of the -committee was against him, he bore up against the misfortune like a -man. He laughed heartily, and declared himself well rid of a very -profitless profession; cut some little joke about Mr Moffat and his -thrashing, and left on those around him an impression that he was a man -so constituted, so strong in his own resolves, so steadily pursuant of -his own work, that no little contentions of this kind could affect -him. Men admired his easy laughter, as, shuffling his half-crowns with -both his hands in his trouser-pockets, he declared that Messrs Romer -and Reddypalm were the best friends he had known for many a day. - -But not the less did he walk out from the room in which he was standing -a broken-hearted man. Hope could not buoy him up as she may do other -ex-members in similarly disagreeable circumstances. He could not -afford to look forward to what further favours parliamentary future -have in store for him after a lapse of five or six years. Five or six -years! Why, his life was not worth four years' purchase; of that he -was perfectly aware: he could not now live without the stimulus of -brandy; and yet, while he took it, he knew he was killing himself. -Death he did not fear; but he would fain have wished, after his life of -labour, to have lived, while yet he could live, in the blaze of that -high world to which for a moment he had attained. - -He laughed loud and cheerily as he left his parliamentary friends, and, -putting himself into the train, went down to Boxall Hill. He laughed -loud and cheerily; but he never laughed again. It had not been his -habit to laugh much at Boxall Hill. It was there he kept his wife, and -Mr Winterbones, and the brandy bottle behind his pillow. He had not -often there found it necessary to assume that loud and cheery laugh. - -On this occasion he was apparently well in health when he got home; but -both Lady Scatcherd and Mr Winterbones found him more than ordinarily -cross. He made an affectation at sitting very hard to business, and -even talked of going abroad to look at some of his foreign contracts. -But even Winterbones found that his patron did not work as he had been -wont to do; and at last, with some misgivings, he told Lady Scatcherd -that he feared that everything was not right. - -'He's always at it, my lady, always,' said Mr Winterbones. - -'Is he?' said Lady Scatcherd, well understanding what Mr Winterbones's -allusion meant. - -'Always, my lady. I never saw nothing like it. Now, there's me--I can -always go my half-hour when I've had my drop; but he, why, he don't go -ten minutes, not now.' - -This was not cheerful to Lady Scatcherd; but what was the poor woman to -do? When she spoke to him on any subject he only snarled at her; and -now that the heavy fit was on him, she did not dare even to mention the -subject of his drinking. She had never known him so savage in his -humour as he was now, so bearish in his habits, so little inclined to -humanity, so determined to rush headlong down, with his head between -his legs, into the bottomless abyss. - -She thought of sending for Dr Thorne; but she did not know under what -guise to send for him,--whether as doctor or as friend: under neither -would he now be welcome; and she well knew that Sir Roger was not the -man to accept in good part either a doctor or a friend who might be -unwelcome. She knew that this husband of hers, this man, who, with all -his faults, was the best of her friends whom she loved best--she knew -that he was killing himself, and yet she could do nothing. Sir Roger -was his own master, and if kill himself he would, kill himself he must. - -And kill himself he did. Not indeed by one sudden blow. He did not -take one huge dose of his consuming poison, and then fall dead upon the -floor. It would perhaps have been better for himself, and better for -those around him, had he done so. No; the doctors had time to -congregate round his bed; Lady Scatcherd was allowed a period of -nurse-tending; the sick man was able to say his last few words and bid -his adieu to his portion of the lower world with dying decency. As -these last words will have some lasting effect upon the surviving -personages of our story, the reader must be content to stand for a -short while by the side of Sir Roger's sick-bed, and help us bid him -God-speed on the journey which lies before him. - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -RETROSPECTIVE - -It was declared in the early pages of this work that Dr Thorne was to -be our hero; but it would appear very much as though he had latterly -been forgotten. Since that evening when he retired to rest without -letting Mary share the grievous weight which was on his mind, we have -neither seen nor heard aught of him. - -It was then full midsummer, and it now early spring: and during the -intervening months the doctor had not had a happy time of it. On that -night, as we have before told, he took his niece to his heart; but he -could not then bring himself to tell her that which it was so -imperative that she should know. Like a coward, he would put off the -evil hour, till the next morning, and thus robbed himself of his -night's sleep. - -But when the morning came the duty could not be postponed. Lady -Arabella had given him to understand that his niece would no longer be -a guest at Greshamsbury; and it was quite out of the question that -Mary, after this, should be allowed to put her foot within the gate of -the domain without having learnt what Lady Arabella had said. So he -told it before breakfast, walking round their little garden, she with -her hand in his. - -He was perfectly thunderstruck by the collected--nay, cool way in which -she received his tidings. She turned pale, indeed; he felt also that -her hand somewhat trembled in his own, and he perceived that for a -moment her voice shook; but no angry word escaped her lip, nor did she -even deign to repudiate the charge, which was, as it were, conveyed in -Lady Arabella's request. The doctor knew, or thought he knew--nay, he -did know--that Mary was wholly blameless in the matter: that she had at -least given no encouragement to any love on the part of the young heir; -but, nevertheless, he had expected that she would avouch her own -innocence. This, however, she by no means did. - -'Lady Arabella is quite right,' she said, 'quite right; if she has any -fear of that kind, she cannot be too careful.' - -'She is a selfish, proud woman,' said the doctor; 'quite indifferent to -the feelings of others; quite careless how deeply she may hurt her -neighbours, if, in doing so, she may possibly benefit herself.' - -'She will not hurt me, uncle, nor yet you. I can live without going to -Greshamsbury.' - -'But it is not to be endured that she should dare to cast an imputation -on my darling.' - -'On me, uncle? She casts no imputation on me. Frank has been foolish: -I have said nothing of it, for it was not worth while to trouble you. -But as Lady Arabella chooses to interfere, I have no right to blame -her. He has said what he should not have said; he has been foolish. -Uncle, you know I could not prevent it.' - -'Let her send him away then, not you; let her banish him.' - -'Uncle, he is her son. A mother can hardly send her son away so -easily: could you send me away, uncle?' - -He merely answered her by twining his arm round her waist and pressing -her to his side. He was well sure that she was badly treated; and yet -now that she so unaccountably took Lady Arabella's part, he hardly knew -how to make this out plainly to be the case. - -'Besides, uncle, Greshamsbury is in a manner his own; how can he be -banished from his father's house? No, uncle; there is an end of my -visits there. They shall find that I will not thrust myself in their -way.' - -And then Mary, with a calm brow and steady gait, went in and made the -tea. - -And what might be the feelings of her heart when she so sententiously -told her uncle that Frank had been foolish? She was of the same age -with him; as impressionable, though more powerful in hiding such -impressions,--as all women should be; her heart was as warm, her blood -as full of life, her innate desire for the companionship of some -much-loved object as strong as his. Frank had been foolish in avowing -his passion. No such folly as that could be laid at her door. But had -she been proof against the other folly? Had she been able to walk -heart-whole by his side, while he chatted his commonplaces about love? -Yes, they are commonplaces when we read them in novels; common enough, -too, to some of us when we write them; but they are by no means -commonplace when first heard by a young girl in the rich, balmy -fragrance of July evening stroll. - -Nor are they commonplaces when so uttered for the first or second time -at least, or perhaps the third. 'Tis a pity that so heavenly a -pleasure should pall upon the senses. - -If it was so that Frank's folly had been listened to with a certain -amount of pleasure, Mary did not even admit so much to herself. But -why should it have been otherwise? Why should she have been less prone -to love than he was? Had he not everything which girls do love? which -girls should love? which God created noble, beautiful, all but godlike, -in order that women, all but goddesslike, might love? To love -thoroughly, truly, heartily, with her whole body, soul, heart, and -strength; should not that be counted for a merit in a woman? And yet -we are wont to make a disgrace of it. We do so most unnaturally, most -unreasonably; for we expect our daughters to get themselves married off -our hands. When the period of that step comes, then love is proper -enough; but up to that--before that--as regards all those preliminary -passages which must, we suppose, be necessary--in all those it becomes a -young lady to be icy-hearted as a river-god in winter. - - 'O whistle and I'll come to you my lad! - O whistle and I'll come to you my lad! - Tho' father and mither and a'should go mad - O whistle and I'll come to you my lad!' - -This is the kind of love which a girl should feel before she puts her -hand proudly in that of her lover, and consents that they two shall be -made one flesh. - -Mary felt no such love as this. She, too, had some inner perception of -that dread destiny by which it behoved Frank Gresham to be forewarned. -She, too--though she had never heard so much said in words--had an -almost instinctive knowledge that his fate required him to marry money. -Thinking over this in her own way, she was not slow to convince herself -that it was out of the question that she should allow herself to love -Frank Gresham. However well her heart might be inclined to such a -feeling, it was her duty to repress it. She resolved, therefore, to do -so; and she sometimes flattered herself that she had kept her -resolution. - -These were bad times for the doctor, and bad times for Mary too. She -had declared that she could live without going to Greshamsbury; but she -did not find it so easy. She had been going to Greshambury all her life, -and it was customary with her to be there as at -home. Such old customs are not broken without pain. Had she left the -place it would have been far different; but, as it was, she daily -passed the gates, daily saw and spoke to some of the servants, who knew -her as well as they did the young ladies of the family--was in hourly -contact, as it were, with Greshamsbury. It was not only that she did -not go there, but that every one knew that she had suddenly -discontinued doing so. Yes, she could live without going to -Greshamsbury; but for some time she had but a poor life of it. She -felt, nay, almost heard, that every man and woman, boy and girl in the -village was telling his and her neighbour that Mary Thorne no longer -went to the house because of Lady Arabella and the young squire. - -But Beatrice, of course, came to her. What was she to say to -Beatrice? The truth! Nay, but it is not always so easy to say the -truth, even to one's dearest friends. - -'But you'll come up now he has gone?' said Beatrice. - -'No, indeed,' said Mary; 'that would hardly be pleasant to Lady -Arabella, nor to me either. No, Trichy, dearest; my visits to dear old -Greshamsbury are done, done, done: perhaps in some twenty years' time I -may be walking down the lawn with your brother, and discussing the -childish days--that is, always, if the then Mrs Gresham shall have -invited me.' - -'How can Frank have been so wrong, so unkind, so cruel?' said Beatrice. - -This, however, was a light in which Miss Thorne did not take any -pleasure, in discussing the matter. Her ideas of Frank's fault, and -unkindness and cruelty, were doubtless different from those of her -sister. Such cruelty was not unnaturally excused in her eyes by many -circumstances which Beatrice did not fully understand. Mary was quite -ready to go hand in hand with Lady Arabella and the rest of -Greshamsbury fold in putting an end, if possible, to Frank's passion: -she would give not one a right to accuse her of assisting to ruin the -young heir; but she could hardly bring herself to admit that he was so -very wrong--no, nor yet even so very cruel. - -And then the squire came to see her, and this was a yet harder trial -than the visit of Beatrice. It was so difficult for her to speak to -him that she could not but wish him away; and yet, had he not come, had -he altogether neglected her, she would have felt it to be unkind. She -had ever been his pet, had always received kindness from him. - -'I am sorry for all this, Mary; very sorry,' said he, standing up, and -holding both her hands in his. - -'It can't be helped, sir,' said she, smiling. - -'I don't know,' said he; 'I don't know--it ought to be helped somehow--I -am quite sure you have not been to blame.' - -'No,' said she, very quietly, as though the position was one quite a -matter of course. 'I don't think I have been very much to blame. There -will be misfortunes sometimes when nobody is to blame.' - -'I do not quite understand it all,' said the squire; 'but if Frank--' - -'Oh! we will not talk about him,' said she, still laughing gently. - -'You can understand, Mary, how dear he must be to me; but if--' - -'Mr Gresham, I would not for worlds be the cause of any unpleasantness -between you and him.' - -'But I cannot bear to think that we have banished you, Mary.' - -'It cannot be helped. Things will all come right in time.' - -'But you will be lonely here.' - -'Oh! I shall got over all that. Here, you know, Mr Gresham, "I am -monarch of all I survey"; and there is a great deal in that.' - -The squire did not catch her meaning, but a glimmering of it did reach -him. It was competent to Lady Arabella to banish her from -Greshamsbury; it was within the sphere of the squire's duties to -prohibit his son from an imprudent match; it was for the Greshams to -guard their Greshamsbury treasure as best they could within their own -territories: but let them beware that they did not attack her on hers. -In obedience to the first expression of their wishes, she had submitted -herself to this public mark of their disapproval because she had seen -at once, with her clear intellect, that they were only doing that which -her conscience must approve. Without a murmur, therefore, she -consented to be pointed at as the young lady who had been turned out of -Greshamsbury because of the young squire. She had no help for it. But -let them take care that they did not go beyond that. Outside those -Greshamsbury gates she and Frank Gresham, she and Lady Arabella met on -equal terms; let them each fight their own battle. - -The squire kissed her forehead affectionately and took his leave, -feeling somehow, that he had been excused and pitied, and made much of; -whereas he had called on his young neighbour with the intention of -excusing, and pitying, and making much of her. He was not quite -comfortable as he left the house; but, nevertheless, he was -sufficiently honest-hearted to own to himself that Mary Thorne was a -fine girl. Only that it was so absolutely necessary that Frank should -marry money--and only, also, that poor Mary was such a birthless -foundling in the world's esteem--only, but for these things, what a wife -she would have made for that son of his! - -To one person only did she talk freely on the subject, and that one was -Patience Oriel; and even with her the freedom was rather of the mind -than of the heart. She never said a word of her feeling with reference -to Frank, but she said much of her position in the village, and of the -necessity she was under to keep out of the way. - -'It is very hard,' said Patience, 'that the offence should be all with -him, and the punishment all with you.' - -'Oh! as for that,' said Mary, laughing, 'I will not confess to any -offence, not yet to any punishment; certainly not to any punishment.' - -'It comes to the same thing in the end.' - -'No, not so, Patience; there is always some little sting of disgrace in -punishment: now I am not going to hold myself in the least disgraced.' - -'But, Mary, you must meet the Greshams sometimes.' - -'Meet them! I have not the slightest objection on earth to meet all, -or any of them. They are not a whit dangerous to me, my dear. 'Tis -that I am the wild beast, and 'tis that they must avoid me,' and then -she added, after a pause--slightly blushing--'I have not the slightest -objection even to meet him if chance brings him in my way. Let them -look to that. My undertaking goes no further than this, that I will -not be seen within their gates.' - -But the girls so far understood each other that Patience undertook, -rather than promised, to give Mary what assistance she could; and, -despite Mary's bravado, she was in such a position that she much wanted -the assistance of such a friend as Patience Oriel. - -After an absence of some six weeks, Frank, as we have seen, returned -home. Nothing was said to him, except by Beatrice, as to those new -Greshamsbury arrangements; and he, when he found Mary was not at the -place, went boldly to the doctor's house to seek her. But it has been -seen, also, that she discreetly kept out of his way. This she had -thought fit to do when the time came, although she had been so ready -with her boast that she had no objection on earth to meet him. - -After that there had been the Christmas vacation, and Mary had again -found discretion the better part of valour. This was doubtless -disagreeable enough. She had no particular wish to spend her Christmas -with Miss Oriel's aunt instead of at her uncle's fireside. Indeed, her -Christmas festivities had hitherto been kept at Greshamsbury, the -doctor and herself having a part of the family circle there assembled. -This was out of the question now; and perhaps the absolute change to -old Miss Oriel's house was better for her than the lesser change to her -uncle's drawing-room. Besides, how could she have demeaned herself -when she met Frank in their parish church? All this had been fully -understood by Patience, and, therefore, had this Christmas visit been -planned. - -And then this affair of Frank and Mary Thorne ceased for a while to be -talked of at Greshamsbury, for that other affair of Mr Moffat and -Augusta monopolized the rural attention. Augusta, as we have said, -bore it well, and sustained the public gaze without much flinching. Her -period of martyrdom, however, did not last long, for soon the news -arrived of Frank's exploit in Pall Mall; and then the Greshamburyites -forgot to think much more of Augusta, being fully occupied in thinking -of what Frank had done. - -The tale, as it was first told, declared the Frank had followed Mr -Moffat up into his club; had dragged him thence into the middle of Pall -Mall, and had then slaughtered him on the spot. This was by degrees -modified till a sobered fiction became generally prevalent, that Mr -Moffat was lying somewhere, still alive, but with all his bones in a -state of compound fracture. This adventure again brought Frank into the -ascendant, and restored to Mary her former position as the Greshamsbury -heroine. - -'One cannot wonder at his being very angry,' said Beatrice, discussing -the matter with Mary--very imprudently. - -'Wonder--no; the wonder would have been if he had not been angry. One -might have been quite sure that he would have been angry enough.' - -'I suppose it was not absolutely right for him to beat Mr Moffat,' said -Beatrice, apologetically. - -'Not right, Trichy? I think he was very right.' - -'Not to beat him so much, Mary!' - -'Oh, I suppose a man can't exactly stand measuring how much he does -these things. I like your brother for what he has done, and I may say -so frankly--though I suppose I ought to eat my tongue out before I -should say such a thing, eh Trichy?' - -'I don't know that there's any harm in that,' said Beatrice, demurely. -'If you both liked each other there would be no harm in that--if that -were all.' - -'Wouldn't there?' said Mary, in a low tone of bantering satire; 'that -is so kind, Trichy, coming from you--from one of the family, you know.' - -'You are well aware, Mary, that if I could have my wishes--' - -'Yes: I am well aware what a paragon of goodness you are. If you could -have your way I should be admitted into heaven again; shouldn't I? Only -with this proviso, that if a stray angel should ever whisper to me with -bated breath, mistaking me, perchance, for one of his own class, I -should be bound to close my ears to his whispering, and remind him -humbly that I was only a poor mortal. You would trust me so far, -wouldn't you, Trichy?' - -'I would trust you in any way, Mary. But I think you are unkind in -saying such things to me.' - -'Into whatever heaven I am admitted, I will go only on this -understanding: that I am to be as good an angel as any of those around -me.' - -'But, Mary dear, why do you say this to me?' - -'Because--because--because--ah me! Why, indeed, but because I have no -one else to say it to. Certainly not because you have deserved it.' - -'It seems as if you were finding fault with me.' - -'And so I am; how can I do other than find fault? How can I help being -sore? Trichy, you hardly realize my position; you hardly see how I am -treated; how I am forced to allow myself to be treated without a sign -of complaint. You don't see it all. If you did, you would not wonder -that I should be sore.' - -Beatrice did not quite see it all; but she saw enough of it to know -that Mary was to be pitied; so, instead of scolding her friend for -being cross, she threw her arms round her and kissed her -affectionately. - -But the doctor all this time suffered much more than his niece did. He -could not complain out loudly; he could not aver that his pet lamb had -been ill treated; he could not even have the pleasure of openly -quarrelling with Lady Arabella; but not the less did he feel it to be -most cruel that Mary should have to live before the world as an -outcast, because it had pleased Frank Gresham to fall in love with her. - -But his bitterness was not chiefly against Frank. That Frank had been -very foolish he could not but acknowledge; but it was a kind of folly -for which the doctor was able to find excuse. For Lady Arabella's cold -propriety he could find no excuse. - -With the squire he had spoken no word on the subject up to this period -of which we are now writing. With her ladyship he had never spoken on -it since that day when she had told him that Mary was to come no more -to Greshamsbury. He never now dined or spent his evenings at -Greshamsbury, and seldom was to be seen at the house, except when -called in professionally. The squire, indeed, he frequently met; but -he either did so in the village, or out on horseback, or at his own -house. - -When the doctor first heard that Sir Roger had lost his seat, and had -returned to Boxall Hill, he resolved to go over and see him. But the -visit was postponed from day to day, as visits are postponed which may -be made any day, and he did not in fact go till summoned there somewhat -peremptorily. A message was brought to him one evening to say that Sir -Roger had been struck by paralysis, and that not a moment was to be -lost. - -'It always happens at night,' said Mary, who had more sympathy for the -living uncle whom she did know, than for the other dying uncle whom she -did not know. - -'What matters?--there--just give me my scarf. In all probability I may -not be home to-night--perhaps not till late to-morrow. God bless you, -Mary!' and away the doctor went on his cold bleak ride to Boxall Hill. - -'Who is to be his heir?' As the doctor rode along, he could not quite -rid his mind of the question. The poor man now about to die had wealth -enough to make many heirs. What if his heart should have softened -towards his sister's child! What if Mary should be found to be -possessed of such wealth that the Greshams should be again be happy to -welcome her at Greshamsbury! - -The doctor was not a lover of money--and he did his best to get rid of -such pernicious thoughts. But his longings, perhaps, were not so much -that Mary should be rich, as that she should have the power of heaping -coals of fire upon the heads of those people who had so injured her. - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -LOUIS SCATCHERD - -When Dr Thorne reached Boxall Hill he found Mr Rerechild from -Barchester there before him. Poor Lady Scatcherd, when her husband was -stricken by the fit, hardly knew in her dismay what adequate steps to -take. She had, as a matter of course, sent for Dr Thorne; but she had -thought it so grave a peril that the medical skill of no one man could -suffice. It was, she knew, quite out of the question for her to invoke -the aid of Dr Fillgrave, whom no earthly persuasion could have brought -to Boxall Hill; and as Mr Rerechild was supposed in the Barchester -world to be second--though at a long interval--to that great man, she -had applied for his assistance. - -Now Mr Rerechild was a follower and humble friend of Dr Fillgrave; and -was wont to regard anything that came from the Barchester doctor as -sure as light from the lamp of Aesculapius. He could not therefore be -other than an enemy of Dr Thorne. But he was a prudent, discreet man, -with a long family, averse to professional hostilities, as knowing that -he could make more by medical friends than medical foes, and not at all -inclined to take up any man's cudgel to his own detriment. He had, of -course, heard of that dreadful affront which had been put upon his -friend, as had all the 'medical world'--and all the medical world at -least of Barsetshire; and he had often expressed sympathy with Dr -Fillgrave and his abhorrence of Dr Thorne's anti-professional -practices. But now that he found himself about to be brought in -contact with Dr Thorne, he reflected that the Galen of Greshamsbury was -at any rate equal in reputation to him of Barchester; that the one was -probably on the rise, whereas the other was already considered by some -as rather antiquated; and he therefore wisely resolved that the present -would be an excellent opportunity for him to make a friend of Dr -Thorne. - -Poor Lady Scatcherd had an inkling that Dr Fillgrave and Mr Rerechild -were accustomed to row in the same boat, and she was not altogether -free from fear that there might be an outbreak. She therefore took an -opportunity before Dr Thorne's arrival to deprecate any wrathful -tendency. - -'Oh, Lady Scatcherd! I have the greatest respect for Dr Thorne,' said -he; 'the greatest possible respect; a most skilful -practitioner--something brusque, certainly, and perhaps a little -obstinate. But what then? we have all our faults, Lady Scatcherd.' - -'Oh--yes; we all have, Mr Rerechild; that's a certain.' - -'There's my friend Fillgrave--Lady Scatcherd. He cannot bear anything -of that sort. Now I think he's wrong; and so I tell him.' Mr Rerechild -was in error here; for he had never yet ventured to tell Dr Fillgrave -that he was wrong in anything. 'We must bear and forbear, you know. Dr -Thorne is an excellent man--in his way very excellent, Lady Scatcherd.' - -This little conversation took place after Mr Rerechild's first visit to -his patient: what steps were immediately taken for the relief of the -sufferer we need not describe. They were doubtless well intended, and -were, perhaps, as well adapted to stave off the coming evil day as any -that Dr Fillgrave, or even the great Sir Omicron Pie might have used. - -And then Dr Thorne arrived. - -'Oh, doctor! doctor!' exclaimed Lady Scatcherd, almost hanging round -his neck in the hall. 'What are we to do? What are we to do? He's -very bad.' - -'Has he spoken?' - -'No; nothing like a word: he has made one or two muttered sounds; but, -poor soul, you could make nothing of it--oh, doctor! doctor! he has -never been like this before. - -It was easy to see where Lady Scatcherd placed any such faith as she -might still have in the healing art. 'Mr Rerechild is here and has -seen him,' she continued. 'I thought it best to send for two, for fear -of accidents. He has done something--I don't know what. But, doctor, -do tell the truth now; I look to you to tell me the truth.' - -Dr Thorne went up and saw his patient; and had he literally complied -with Lady Scatcherd's request, he might have told her at once that -there was no hope. As, however, he had not the heart to do this, he -mystified the case as doctors so well know how to do, and told her that -'there was cause to fear, great cause for fear; he was sorry to say, -very great cause for much fear.' - -Dr Thorne promised to stay the night there, and, if possible, the -following night also; and then Lady Scatcherd became troubled in her -mind as to what she should do with Mr Rerechild. He also declared, -with much medical humanity, that, let the inconvenience be what it -might, he too would stay the night. 'The loss,' he said, 'of such a -man as Sir Roger Scatcherd was of such paramount importance as to make -other matters trivial. He would certainly not allow the whole weight -to fall on the shoulders of his friend Dr Thorne: he also would stay at -any rate that night by the sick man's bedside. By the following -morning some change might be excpected.' - -'I say, Dr Thorne,' said her ladyship, calling the doctor into the -housekeeping-room, in which she and Hannah spent any time that they -were not required upstairs; 'just come in, doctor: you wouldn't tell -him we don't want him no more, could you?' - -'Tell whom?' said the doctor. - -'Why--Mr Rerechild: mightn't he go away, do you think?' - -Dr Thorne explained that Mr Rerechild might go away if he pleased; but -that it would by no means be proper for one doctor to tell another to -leave the house. And so Mr Rerechild was allowed to share the glories -of the night. - -In the meantime the patient remained speechless; but it soon became -evident that Nature was using all her efforts to make one final rally. -From time to time he moaned and muttered as though he was conscious, -and it seemed as though he strove to speak. He gradually became awake, -at any rate to suffering, and Dr Thorne began to think that the last -scene would be postponed for yet a while longer. - -'Wonderful constitution--eh, Dr Thorne? wonderful!' said Mr Rerechild. - -'Yes; he has been a strong man.' - -'Strong as a horse, Dr Thorne. Lord, what that man would have been if -he had given himself a chance! You know his constitution of course.' - -'Yes; pretty well. I've attended him for many years.' - -'Always drinking, I suppose; always at it--eh?' - -'He has not been a temperate man, certainly.' - -'The brain, you see, clean gone--and not a particle of coating left to -the stomach; and yet what a struggle he makes--an interesting case, -isn't it?' - -'It's very sad to see such an intellect so destroyed.' - -'Very sad, very sad indeed. How Fillgrave would have liked to have -seen this case. He is a very clever man, is Fillgrave--in his way, you -know.' - -'I'm sure he is,' said Dr Thorne. - -'Not that he'd make anything of a case like this now--he's not, you -know, quite--quite--perhaps not quite up to the new time of day, one -might say so.' - -'He has had a very extensive provincial practice,' said Dr Thorne. - -'Oh, very--very; and made a tidy lot of money too, has Fillgrave. He's -worth six thousand pounds, I suppose; now that's a good deal of money -to put by in a little town like Barchester.' - -'Yes, indeed.' - -'What I say to Fillgrave is--keep your eyes open; one should never be -too old to learn--there's always something new worth picking up. But -no--he won't believe that. He can't believe that any new ideas can be -worth anything. You know a man must go to the wall in that way--eh, -doctor?' - -And then again they were called to their patient. 'He's doing finely, -finely,' said Mr Rerechild to Lady Scatcherd. 'There's fair ground to -hope he'll rally; fair ground, is there not, doctor?' - -'Yes; he'll rally; but how long that may last, that we can hardly say.' - -'Oh, no, certainly not, certainly not--that is not with any certainty; -but still he's doing finely, Lady Scatcherd, considering everything.' - -'How long will you give him, doctor?' said Mr Rerechild to his new -friend, when they were again alone. 'Ten days? I dare say ten days, -or from that to a fortnight.' - -'Perhaps so,' said the doctor. 'I should not like to say exactly to a -day.' - -'No, certainly not. We cannot say exactly to a day; but I say ten -days; as for anything like a recovery, that you know--' - -'Is out of the question,' said Dr Thorne, gravely. - -'Quite so; quite so; coating of the stomach clean gone, you know; brain -destroyed: did you observe the periporollida? I never saw them so -swelled before: now when the periporollida are swollen like that--' - -'Yes, very much; it's always the case when paralysis has been brought -about by intemperance.' - -'Always, always; I have remarked that always; the periporollida in such -cases are always extended; most interesting case, isn't it? I do wish -Fillgrave could have seen it. But, I believe you and Dr Fillgrave -don't quite--eh?' - -'No, not quite,'said Dr Thorne; who, as he thought of his last -interview with Dr Fillgrave, and of that gentleman's exceeding anger as -he stood in the hall below, could not keep himself from smiling, sad as -the occasion was. - -Nothing would induced Lady Scatcherd to go to bed; but the two doctors -agreed to lie down, each in a room on one side of the patient. How was -it possible that anything but good should come to him, being so -guarded? 'He's going on finely, Lady Scatcherd, quite finely,' were -the last words Mr Rerechild said as he left the room. - -And then Dr Thorne, taking Lady Scatcherd's hand and leading her out -into another chamber, told her the truth. - -'Lady Scatcherd,' said he, in his tenderest voice--and his voice could -be very tender when occasion required it--'Lady Scatcherd, do not hope; -you must not hope; it would be cruel to bid you to do so.' - -'Oh, doctor! oh, doctor!' - -'My dear friend, there is no hope.' - -'Oh, Dr Thorne!' said the wife, looking wildly up into her companion's -face, though she hardly yet realized the meaning of what he said, -although her senses were half stunned by the blow. - -'Dear Lady Scatcherd, is it not better that I should tell you the -truth?' - -'Oh, I suppose so; oh yes, oh yes; ah me! ah me! ah me!' And then she -began rocking herself backwards and forwards on her chair, with her -apron up to her eyes. - -'Look to Him, Lady Scatcherd, who only can make such grief endurable.' - -'Yes, yes, yes; I suppose so. Ah me! ah me! But, Dr Thorne, there -must be some chance--isn't there any chance? That man says he's going -on so well.' - -'I fear there is no chance--as far as my knowledge goes there is no -chance.' - -'Then why does that chattering magpie tell such lies to a woman? Ah -me! ah me! oh, doctor! doctor! what shall I do? what shall I do?' and -poor Lady Scatcherd, fairly overcome by her sorrow, burst out crying -like a great school-girl. - -And yet what had her husband done for her that she should thus weep for -him? Would not her life be much more blessed when this cause of all -her troubles should be removed from her? Would she not then be a free -woman instead of a slave? Might she not then expect to begin to taste -the comforts of life? What had that harsh tyrant of hers done that was -good or serviceable for her? Why should she thus weep for him in -paroxysms of truest grief? - -We hear a good deal of jolly widows; and the slanderous raillery of the -world tell much of conjugal disturbances as a cure for which women will -look forward to a state of widowhood with not unwilling eyes. The -raillery of the world is very slanderous. In our daily jests we -attribute to each other vices of which neither we, nor our neighbours, -nor our friends, nor even our enemies are ever guilty. It is our -favourite parlance to talk of the family troubles of Mrs Green on our -right, and to tell now Mrs Young on our left is strongly suspected of -having raised her hand to her lord and master. What right have we to -make these charges? What have we seen in our own personal walks -through life to make us believe that women are devils? There may -possibly have been Xantippe here and there, but Imogenes are to be -found in every bush. Lady Scatcherd, in spite of the life she had led, -was one of them. - -'You should send a message up to London for Louis,' said the doctor. - -'We did that, doctor; we did that to-day--we sent up a telegraph. Oh -me! oh me! poor boy, what will he do? I shall never know what to do -with him, never! never!' And with such sorrowful wailings she sat -rocking herself through the long night, every now and then comforting -herself by the performance of some menial service in the sick man's -room. - -Sir Roger passed the night much as he had passed the day, except that -he appeared gradually to be growing nearer to a state of -consciousness. On the following morning they succeeded at last in -making Mr Rerechild understand that they were not desirous of keeping -him longer from his Barchester practice; and at about twelve o'clock Dr -Thorne also went, promising that he would return in the evening, and -again pass the night at Boxall Hill. - -In the course of the afternoon Sir Roger once more awoke to his senses, -and when he did so his son was standing at his bedside. Louis Philippe -Scatcherd--or as it may be more convenient to call him, Louis--was a -young man just of the age of Frank Gresham. But there could hardly be -two youths more different in their appearance. Louis, though his -father and mother were both robust persons, was short and slight, and -now of a sickly frame. Frank was a picture of health and strength; -but, though manly in disposition, was by no means precocious either in -appearance or manners. Louis Scatcherd looked as though he was four -years the other's senior. He had been sent to Eton when he was -fifteen, his father being under the impression that this was the most -ready and best-recognized method of making him a gentleman. Here he -did not altogether fail as regarded the coveted object of his becoming -the companion of gentlemen. He had more pocket-money than any other -lad in the school, and was possessed of a certain effrontery which -carried him ahead among boys of his own age. He gained, therefore, a -degree of eclat, even among those who knew, and very frequently said to -each other, that young Scatcherd was not fit to be their companion -except on such open occasions as those of cricket-matches and boat- -races. Boys, in this respect, are at least as exclusive as men, and -understand as well the difference between an inner and outer circle. -Scatcherd had many companions at school who were glad enough to go up -to Maidenhead with him his boat; but there was not one among them who -would have talked to him of his sister. - -Sir Roger was vastly proud of his son's success, and did his best to -stimulate it by lavish expenditure at the Christopher, whenever he -could manage to run down to Eton. But this practice, though -sufficiently unexceptionable to the boys, was not held in equal delight -by the masters. To tell the truth, neither Sir Roger nor his son were -favourites with these stern custodians. At last it was felt necessary -to get rid of them both; and Louis was not long in giving them an -opportunity, by getting tipsy twice in one week. On the second -occasion he was sent away, and he and Sir Roger, though long talked of, -were seen no more at Eton. - -But the universities were still open to Louis Philippe, and before he -was eighteen he was entered as a gentleman-commoner at Trinity. As he -was, moreover, the eldest son of a baronet, and had almost unlimited -command of money, here also he was enabled for a while to shine. - -To shine! but very fitfully; and one may say almost with a ghastly -glare. The very lads who had eaten his father's dinners at Eton, and -shared his four-oar at Eton, knew much better than to associate with -him at Cambridge now that they had put on the toga virilis. They were -still as prone as ever to fun, frolic, and devilry--perhaps more so than -ever, seeing that more was in their power; but they acquired an idea -that it behoved them to be somewhat circumspect as to the men with whom -their pranks were perpetrated. So, in those days, Louis Scatcherd was -coldly looked on by his whilom Eton friends. - -But young Scatcherd did not fail to find companions at Cambridge also. -There are few places indeed in which a rich man cannot buy -companionship. But the set with whom he lived, were the worst of the -place. They were fast, slang men, who were fast and slang, and nothing -else--men who imitated grooms in more than their dress, and who looked -on the customary heroes of race-courses as the highest lords of the -ascendant upon earth. Among those at college young Scatcherd did shine -as long as such lustre was permitted him. Here, indeed, his father, who -had striven only to encourage him at Eton, did strive somewhat to -control him. But that was not now easy. If he limited his son's -allowance, he only drove him to do his debauchery on credit. There -were plenty to lend money to the son of a great millionaire; and so, -after eighteen months' trial of a university education, Sir Roger had -no alternative but to withdraw his son from his alma mater. - -What was he to do with him? Unluckily it was considered quite -unnecessary to take any steps towards enabling him to earn his bread. -Now nothing on earth can be more difficult than bringing up well a -young man who has not to earn his own bread, and who has no recognized -station among other men similarly circumstanced. Juvenile dukes, and -sprouting earls, find their duties and their places as easily as embryo -clergymen and sucking barristers. Provision is made for their peculiar -positions: and, though they may possibly go astray, they have a fair -chance given to them of running within the posts. The same may be said -of such youths as Frank Gresham. There are enough of them in the -community to have made it necessary that their well-being should be a -matter of care and forethought. But there are but few men turned out -in the world in the position of Louis Scatcherd; and, of those few, but -very few enter the real battle of life under good auspices. - -Poor Sir Roger though he had hardly time with all his multitudinous -railways to look into this thoroughly, had a glimmering of it. When he -saw his son's pale face, and paid his wine bills, and heard of his -doings in horse-flesh, he did know that things were not going well; he -did understand that the heir to a baronetcy and a fortune of some ten -thousand a year might be doing better. But what was he to do? he -could not watch over his boy himself; so he took a tutor for him and -sent him abroad. - -Louis and the tutor got as far as Berlin, with what mutual satisfaction -to each other need not be specially described. But from Berlin Sir -Roger received a letter in which the tutor declined to go any further -in the task which he had undertaken. He found that he had no influence -over his pupil, and he could not reconcile it to his conscience to be -the spectator of such a life as that which Mr Scatcherd led. He had no -power in inducing Mr Scatcherd to leave Berlin; but he would remain -there himself till he should hear from Sir Roger. So Sir Roger had to -leave the huge Government works which he was then erecting on the -southern coast, and hurry off to Berlin to see what could be done with -young Hopeful. - -The young Hopeful was by no means a fool; and in some matters was more -than a match for his father. Sir Roger, in his anger, threatened to -cast him off without a shilling. Louis, with mixed penitence and -effrontery, reminded him that he could not change the descent of the -title; promised amendment; declared that he had done only as do other -young men of fortune; and hinted that the tutor was a strait-laced -ass. The father and the son returned together to Boxall Hill, and -three months afterwards Mr Scatcherd set up for himself in London. - -And now his life, if not more virtuous, was more crafty than it had -been. He had no tutor to watch his doings and complain of them, and he -had sufficient sense to keep himself from absolute pecuniary ruin. He -lived, it is true, where sharpers and blacklegs had too often -opportunities of plucking him; but, young as he was, he had been -sufficiently long about the world to take care he was not openly -robbed; and as he was not openly robbed, his father, in a certain -sense, was proud of him. - -Tidings, however, came--came at least in those last days--which cut Sir -Roger to the quick; tidings of vice in the son which the father could -not but attribute to his own example. Twice his mother was called up -to the sick-bed of her only child, while he lay raving in that horrid -madness by which the outraged mind avenges itself on the body! Twice -he was found raging in delirium tremens, and twice the father was told -that a continuance of such life must end in early death. - -It may easily be conceived that Sir Roger was not a happy man. Lying -there with that brandy bottle beneath his pillow, reflecting in his -moments of rest that that son of his had his brandy bottle beneath his -pillow, he could hardly have been happy. But he was not a man to say -much about his misery. Though he could restrain neither himself nor -his heir, he could endure in silence; and in silence he did endure, -till, opening his eyes to the consciousness of death, he at last spoke -a few words to the only friend he knew. - -Louis Scatcherd was not a fool, nor was he naturally, perhaps, of a -depraved disposition; but he had to reap the fruits of the worst -education which England was able to give him. There were moments in -his life when he felt that a better, a higher, nay, a much happier -career was open to him than that which he had prepared himself to -lead. Now and then, he would reflect what money and rank might have -done for him; he would look with wishful eyes to the proud doings of -others of his age; would dream of quiet joys, of a sweet wife, a house -to which might be asked friends who were neither jockeys nor drunkards; -he would dream of such things in his short intervals of constrained -sobriety; but the dream would only serve to make him moody. - -This was the best side of his character; the worst, probably, was that -which was brought into play by the fact that he was not a fool. He -would have a better chance of redemption in this world--perhaps also in -another--had he been a fool. As it was, he was no fool: he was not to -be done, not he; he knew, no one better, the value of a shilling; he -knew, also, how to keep his shillings, and how to spend them. He -consorted much with blacklegs and such-like because blacklegs were to -his taste. But he boasted daily, nay, hourly to himself, and -frequently to those around him, that the leeches who were stuck round -him could draw but little blood from him. He could spend his money -freely; but he would so spend it that he himself might reap the -gratification of the expenditure. He was acute, crafty, knowing, and -up to every damnable dodge practised by men of the class with whom he -lived. At one-and-twenty he was that most odious of all odious -characters-a close-fisted reprobate. - -He was a small man, not ill-made by Nature, but reduced to unnatural -tenuity by dissipation-a corporeal attribute of which he was apt to -boast, as it enabled him, as he said, to put himself up at 7st 7lb -without any 'd--- nonsense of not eating and drinking'. The power, -however, was one of which he did not often avail himself, as his nerves -were seldom in a fit state for riding. His hair was dark red, and he -wore red moustaches, and a great deal of red beard beneath his chin, -cut in a manner to make him look like an American. His voice also had -a Yankee twang, being a cross between that of an American trader and an -English groom; and his eyes were keen and fixed, and cold and knowing. - -Such was the son whom Sir Roger saw standing at his bedside when first -he awoke to his consciousness. It must not be supposed that Sir Roger -looked at him with our eyes. To him he was an only child, the heir of -his wealth, the future bearer of his title; the most heart-stirring -remembrancer of those days, when he had been so much a poorer, and so -much a happier man. Let that boy be bad or good, he was all Sir Roger -had; and the father was still able to hope, when others thought that -all ground for hope was gone. - -The mother also loved her son with a mother's natural love; but Louis -had ever been ashamed of his mother, and had, as far as possible, -estranged himself from her. Her heart, perhaps, fixed itself almost -with almost a warmer love on Frank Gresham, her foster-son. Frank she -saw but seldom, but when she did see him he never refused her embrace. -There was, too, a joyous, genial lustre about Frank's face which always -endeared him to women, and made his former nurse regard him as the pet -creation of the age. Though she but seldom interfered with any -monetary arrangement of her husband's, yet once or twice she had -ventured to hint that a legacy left to the young squire would make her -a happy woman. Sir Roger, however, on these occasions had not appeared -very desirous of making his wife happy. - -'Ah, Louis! is that you?' ejaculated Sir Roger, in tones hardly more -than half-formed: afterwards in a day or two that is, he fully -recovered his voice; but just then he could hardly open his jaws, and -spoke almost through his teeth. He managed, however, to put out his -hand and lay it on the counterpane, so that his son could take it. - -'Why, that's well, governor,' said the son; 'you'll be as right as a -trivet in a day or two--eh, governor?' - -The 'governor' smiled with a ghastly smile. He already pretty well -knew that he would never again be 'right' as his son called it, on that -side of the grave. It did not, moreover, suit him to say much just at -that moment, so he contented himself with holding his son's hand. He -lay still in this position for a moment, and then, turning round -painfully on his side, endeavoured to put his hand to the place where -his dire enemy usually was concealed. Sir Roger, however, was too weak -now to be his own master; he was at length, though too late, a captive -in the hands of nurses and doctors, and the bottle had now been -removed. - -Then Lady Scatcherd came in, and seeing that her husband was not longer -unconscious, she could not but believe that Dr Thorne had been wrong; -she could not but think that there must be some ground for hope. She -threw herself on her knees at the bedside bursting into tears as she -did so, and taking Sir Roger's hand in hers and covered it with kisses. - -'Bother!' said Sir Roger. - -She did not, however, long occupy herself with the indulgence of her -feelings; but going speedily to work, produced such sustenance as the -doctors had ordered to be given when the patient might awake. A -breakfast-cup was brought to him, and a few drops were put into his -mouth; but he soon made it manifest that he would take nothing more of -a description so perfectly innocent. - -'A drop of brandy--just a little drop,' said he, half-ordering, -half-entreating. - -'Ah, Roger,' said Lady Scatcherd. - -'Just a little drop, Louis,' said the sick man, appealing to his son. - -'A little will be good for him; bring the bottle, mother,' said the -son. - -After some altercation the brandy bottle was brought, and Louis, with -what a thought a very sparing hand, proceeded to pour about half a -wine--glass into the cup. As he did so, Sir Roger, weak as he was, -contrived to shake his son's arm, so as greatly to increase the dose. - -'Ha! ha! ha!' laughed the sick man, and then greedily swallowed the -dose. - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -SIR ROGER DIES - -That night the doctor stayed at Boxall Hill, and the next night; so -that it became a customary thing for him to sleep there during the -latter part of Sir Roger's illness. He returned home to Greshamsbury; -for he had his patients there, to whom he was as necessary as to Sir -Roger, the foremost of whom was Lady Arabella. He had, therefore, no -slight work on his hands, seeing that his nights were by no means -wholly devoted to rest. - -Mr Rerechild had not been much wrong as to the remaining space of life -which he had allotted to the dying man. Once or twice Dr Thorne had -thought that the great original strength of his patient would have -enabled him to fight against death for a somewhat longer period; but -Sir Roger would give himself no chance. Whenever he was strong enough -to have a will of his own, he insisted on having his very medicine -mixed with brandy; and in the hours of the doctor's absence, he was too -often successful in his attempts. - -'It does not much matter,' Dr Thorne had said to Lady Scatcherd. 'Do -what you can to keep down the quantity, but do not irritate him by -refusing to obey. It does not much signify now.' So Lady Scatcherd -still administered the alcohol, and he from day to day invented little -schemes for increasing the amount, over which he chuckled with ghastly -laughter. - -Two or three times these days Sir Roger essayed to speak seriously to -his son; but Louis always frustrated him. He either got out of the -room on some excuse, or made his mother interfere on the score that so -much talking would be bad for his father. He already knew with -tolerable accuracy what was the purport of his father's will, and by no -means approved of it; but as he could not now hope to induce his father -to alter it so as to make it more favourable to himself, he conceived -that no conversation on matters of business could be of use to him. - -'Louis,' said Sir Roger, one afternoon to his son; 'Louis, I have not -done by you as I ought to have done--I know that now.' - -'Nonsense, governor; never mind about it now; I shall do well enough I -dare say. Besides, it isn't too late; you can make it twenty-three -years instead of twenty-five.' - -'I do not mean as to money, Louis. There are things besides money -which a father ought to look to.' - -'Now, father, don't fret yourself--I'm all right; you may be sure of -that.' - -'Louis, it's that accursed brandy--it's that that I'm afraid of: you see -me here, my boy, I'm lying here now.' - -'Don't you be annoying yourself, governor; I'm all right--quite right; -and as for you, why, you'll be up and about yourself in another month -or so.' - -'I shall never be off this bed, my boy, till I'm carried into my -coffin, on those chairs there. But I'm not thinking of myself, Louis, -but you; think what you may have before you if you can't avoid that -accursed bottle.' - -'I'm all right, governor; right as a trivet. It's very little I take, -except at an odd time or two.' - -'Oh, Louis! Louis!' - -'Come, father, cheer up; this sort of thing isn't the thing for you at -all. I wonder where mother is: she ought to be here with the broth; -just let me go, and I'll see for her.' - -The father understood it all. He saw that it was now much beyond his -faded powers to touch the heart or conscience of such a youth as his -son had become. What now could he do for his boy except die? What -else, what other benefit, did his son require of him but to die; to die -so that his means of dissipation might be unbounded? He let go the -unresisting hand which he held, and, as the young man crept out of the -room, he turned his face to the wall. He turned his face to the wall, -and held bitter commune with his own heart. To what had he brought -himself? To what had he brought his son? Oh, how happy would it have -been for him could he have remained all his days a working stone-mason -in Barchester! How happy could he have died as such, years ago! Such -tears as those which wet the pillow are the bitterest which human eyes -can shed. - -But while they were dropping, the memoir of his life was in quick -course of preparation. It was, indeed, nearly completed, with -considerable detail. He had lingered on four days longer than might -have been expected, and the author had thus had more than usual time -for the work. In these days a man is nobody unless his biography is -kept so far posted up that it may be ready for the national -breakfast-table on the morning after his demise. When it chances that -the dead hero is one who is taken in his prime of life, of whose -departure from among us the most far-seeing, biographical scribe can -have no prophetic inkling, this must be difficult. Of great men, full -of years, who are ripe of the sickle, who in the course of Nature must -soon fall, it is of course comparatively easy for an active compiler to -have his complete memoir ready in his desk. But in order that the idea -of omnipresent and omniscient information may be kept up, the young -must be chronicled as quickly as the old. In some cases this task -must, one would say, be difficult. Nevertheless it is done. - -The memoir of Sir Roger Scatcherd was progressing favourably. In this -it was told how fortunate had been his life; now, in his case, industry -and genius combined had triumphed over the difficulties which humble -birth and deficient education had thrown in his way; how he had made a -name among England's great men; how the Queen had delighted to honour -him, and nobles had been proud to have him as a guest at their -mansions. Then followed a list of all the great works which he had -achieved, of the railroads, canals, docks, harbours, jails, and -hospitals which he had constructed. His name was held up as an example -to the labouring classes of his countrymen, and he was pointed at as -one who had lived and died happy--ever happy, said the biographer, -because ever industrious. And so a great moral question was -inculcated. A short paragraph was devoted to his appearance in -Parliament; and unfortunate Mr Romer was again held up for disgrace, -for the thirtieth time, as having been the means of depriving our -legislative councils of the great assistance of Sir Roger's experience. - -'Sir Roger,' said the biographer in his concluding passage, 'was -possessed of an iron frame; but even iron will yield to the repeated -blows of the hammer. In the latter years of his life he was known to -overtask himself; and at length the body gave way, though the mind -remained firm to the last. The subject of this memoir was only -fifty-nine when he was taken from us.' - -And thus Sir Roger's life was written, while the tears were yet falling -on his pillow at Boxall Hill. It was a pity that a proof-sheet could -not have been sent to him. No man was vainer of his reputation, and it -would have greatly gratified him to know that posterity was about to -speak of him in such terms--to speak of him with a voice that would be -audible for twenty-four hours. - -Sir Roger made no further attempt to give counsel to his son. It was -too evidently useless. The old dying lion felt that the lion's power -had already passed from him, and that he was helpless in the hands of -the young cub who was so soon to inherit the wealth of the forest. But -Dr Thorne was more kind to him. He had something yet to say as to his -worldly hopes and worldly cares; and his old friend did not turn a deaf -ear to him. - -It was during the night that Sir Roger was most anxious to talk, and -most capable of talking. He would lie through the day in a state -half-comatose; but towards evening would rouse himself, and by midnight -he would be full of fitful energy. One night, as he lay wakeful and -full of thought, he thus poured forth his whole heart to Dr Thorne. - -'Thorne,' said he, 'I told you about my will, you know.' - -'Yes,' said the other; 'and I have blamed myself greatly that I have -not again urged you to alter it. Your illness came too suddenly, -Scatcherd; and then I was averse to speak of it.' - -'Why should I alter it? It is a good will; as good as I can make. Not -but that I have altered it since I spoke to you. I did it that day -after you left me.' - -'Have you definitely named your heir in default of Louis?' - -'No--that is--yes--I had done that before; I have said Mary's eldest -child: I have not altered that.' - -'But, Scatcherd, you must alter it.' - -'Must! well then, I won't; but I'll tell you what I have done. I have -added a postscript--a codicil they call it--saying that you, and you -only, know who is her eldest child. Winterbones and Jack Martin have -witnessed that.' - -Dr Thorne was going to explain how very injudicious such an arrangement -appeared to be; but Sir Roger would not listen to him. It was not -about that that he wished to speak to him. To him it was a matter of -but minor interest who might inherit his money if his son should die -early; his care was solely for his son's welfare. At twenty-five the -heir might make his own will--might bequeath all this wealth according -to his own fancy. Sir Roger would not bring himself to believe that his -son could follow him to the grave in so short a time. - -'Never mind that, doctor, now; but about Louis; you will be his -guardian, you know.' - -'Not his guardian. He is more than of age.' - -'Ah! but doctor, you will be his guardian. The property will not be -his till he be twenty-five. You will not desert him?' - -'I will not desert him; but I doubt whether I can do much for him--what -can I do, Scatcherd?' - -'Use the power that a strong man has over a weak one. Use the power -that my will will give you. Do for him as you would for a son of your -own if you saw him going in bad courses. Do as a friend should do for -a friend that is dead and gone. I would do so for you, doctor, if our -places were changed.' - -'What can I do, that I will do,' said Thorne, solemnly, taking as he -spoke the contractor's own in his own with a tight grasp. - -'I know you will; I know you will. Oh! doctor, may you never feel as -I do now! May you on your death-bed have no dread as I have, as to the -fate of those you will leave behind you!' - -Doctor Thorne felt that he could not say much in answer to this. The -future fate of Louis Scatcherd was, he could not but own to himself, -greatly to be dreaded. What good, what happiness, could be presaged -for such a one as he was? What comfort could he offer to the father? -And then he was called on to compare, as it were, the prospects of this -unfortunate with those of his own darling; to contrast all that was -murky, foul, and disheartening, with all that was perfect--for to him -she was all but perfect; to liken Louis Scatcherd to the angel who -brightened his own hearthstone. How could he answer to such an appeal? - -He said nothing; but merely tightened his grasp of the other's hand, to -signify that he would do, as best he could, all that was asked of him. -Sir Roger looked up sadly into the doctor's face, as though expecting -some word of consolation. There was no comfort, no consolation. - -'For three or four years, he must greatly depend on you,' continued Sir -Roger. - -'I will do what I can,' said the doctor. 'What I can do I will do. But -he is not a child, Scatcherd: at his age he must stand or fall mainly -by his own conduct. The best thing for him will be to marry.' - -'Exactly; that's just it, Thorne: I was coming to that. If he would -marry, I think he would do well yet, for all that has come and gone. If -he married, of course you would let him have the command of his own -income.' - -'I will be governed entirely by your wishes: under any circumstances -his income will, as I understand, be quite sufficient for him, married -or single.' - -'Ah!--but, Thorne, I should like to think he should shine with the best -of them. For what I have made the money for if not for that? Now if -he marries--decently, that is--some woman you know that can assist him in -the world, let him have what he wants. It is not to save the money -that I have put it into your hands.' - -'No, Scatcherd; not to save the money, but to save him. I think that -while you are yet with him you should advise him to marry.' - -'He does not care a straw for what I advise, not one straw. Why should -he? How can I tell him to be sober when I have been a beast all my -life? How can I advise him? That's where it is! It is that that now -kills me. Advise! Why, when I speak to him he treats me like a -child.' - -'He fears that you are too weak, you know: he thinks that you should -not be allowed to talk.' - -'Nonsense! he knows better; you know better. Too weak! what -signifies? Would I not give all that I have of strength at one blow if -I could open his eyes to see as I see but for one minute?' And the -sick man raised himself in his bed as though he were actually going to -expend all that remained to him of vigour in the energy of the moment. - -'Gently, Scatcherd; gently. He will listen to you yet; but do not be -so unruly.' - -'Thorne, you see that bottle there? Give me half a glass of brandy.' - -The doctor turned round in his chair; but he hesitated in doing as he -was desired. - -'Do as I ask you, doctor. It can do no harm now; you know that well -enough. Why torture me now?' - -'No, I will not torture you; but you will have water with it?' - -'Water! No; the brandy by itself. I tell you I cannot speak without -it. What's the use of canting now? You know it can make no -difference.' - -Sir Roger was right. It could make no difference; and Dr Thorne gave -him the half glass of brandy. - -'Ah, well; you've a stingy hand, doctor; confounded stingy. You don't -measure your medicines out in such light doses.' - -'You will be wanting more before morning, you know.' - -'Before morning! indeed I shall; a pint or two before that. I remember -the time, doctor, when I have drunk to my own cheek above two quarts -between dinner and breakfast! aye, and worked all day after it!' - -'You have been a wonderful man, Scatcherd, very wonderful.' - -'Aye, wonderful! well, never mind. It's over now. But what was I -saying?--about Louis, doctor; you'll not desert him?' - -'Certainly not.' - -'He's not strong; I know that. How should he be strong, living as he -has done? Not that it seemed to hurt me when I was his age.' - -'You had the advantage of hard work.' - -'That's it. Sometimes I wish that Louis had not a shilling in the -world; that he had to trudge about with an apron round his waist as I -did. But it's too late now to think of that. If he would marry, -doctor.' - -Dr Thorne again expressed an opinion that no step would be so likely to -reform the habits of the young heir as marriage; and repeated his -advice to the father to implore his son to take a wife. - -'I'll tell you what, Thorne,' said he. And then, after a pause, he -went on. 'I have not half told you as yet what is on my mind; and I'm -nearly afraid to tell it; though, indeed, I don't know what I should -be.' - -'I never knew you afraid of anything yet,' said the doctor, smiling -gently. - -'Well, then, I'll not end by turning coward. Now, doctor, tell the -truth to me; what do you expect me to do for that girl of yours that we -were talking of--Mary's child?' - -There was a pause for a moment, for Thorne was slow to answer him. - -'You would not let me see her, you know, though she is my niece as -truly as yours.' - -'Nothing,' at last said the doctor, slowly. 'I expect nothing. I would -not let you see her, and therefore, I expect nothing.' - -'She will have it all if poor Louis should die,' said Sir Roger. - -'If you intend it so you should put her name into the will,' said the -other. 'Not that I ask you or wish you to do so. Mary, thank God, can -do without wealth.' - -'Thorne, on one condition I will put her name into it. I will alter it -on one condition. Let the two cousins be man and wife--let Louis marry -poor Mary's child.' - -The proposition for a moment took away the doctor's breath, and he was -unable to answer. Not for all the wealth of India would he have given -up his lamb to that young wolf, even though he had had the power to do -so. But that lamb--lamb though she was--had, as he well knew, a will of -her own on such a matter. What alliance could be more impossible, -thought he to himself, than one between Mary Thorne and Louis -Scatcherd? - -'I will alter it all if you will give me your hand upon it that you -will do your best to bring about this marriage. Everything shall be -his on the day he marries her; and should he die unmarried, it shall -all then be hers by name. Say the word, Thorne, and she shall come -here at once. I shall yet have time to see her.' - -But Dr Thorne did not say the word; just at the moment he said nothing, -but he slowly shook his head. - -'Why not, Thorne?' - -'My friend, it is impossible.' - -'Why impossible?' - -'Her hand is not mine to dispose of, nor is her heart.' - -'Then let her come over herself.' - -'What! Scatcherd, that the son might make love to her while the father -is so dangerously ill! Bid her come to look for a rich husband! That -would not be seemly, would it?' - -'No; not for that: let her come merely that I may see her; that we may -all know her. I will leave the matter then in your hands if you will -promise me to do your best.' - -'But, my friend, in this matter I cannot do my best. I can do -nothing. And, indeed, I may say at once, that it is altogether out of -the question. I know--' - -'What do you know?' said the baronet, turning on him almost angrily. -'What can you know to make you say that it is impossible? Is she a -pearl of such price that a man may not win her?' - -'She is a pearl of great price.' - -'Believe me, doctor, money goes far in winning such pearls.' - -'Perhaps so; I know little about it. But this I do know, that money -will not win her. Let us talk of something else; believe me, it is -useless for us to think of this.' - -'Yes; if you set your face against it obstinately. You must think very -poorly of Louis if you suppose that no girl can fancy him.' - -'I have not said so, Scatcherd.' - -'To have the spending of ten thousand a year, and be a baronet's lady! -Why, doctor, what is it you expect for this girl?' - -'Not much, indeed; not much. A quiet heart and a quiet home; not much -more.' - -'Thorne, if you will be ruled by me in this, she shall be the most -topping woman in this county.' - -'My friend, my friend, why thus grieve me? Why should you thus harass -yourself? I tell you it is impossible. They have never seen each -other; they have nothing, and can have nothing in common; their tastes, -and wishes, and pursuits are different. Besides, Scatcherd, marriages -never answer that are so made; believe me, it is impossible.' - -The contractor threw himself back on his bed, and lay for some ten -minutes perfectly quiet; so much so that the doctor began to think that -he was sleeping. So thinking, and wearied by the watching, Dr Thorne -was beginning to creep quietly from the room, when his companion again -roused himself, almost with vehemence. - -'You won't do this thing for me, then?' said he. - -'Do it! It is not for you or me to do such things as that. Such -things must be left to those concerned themselves.' - -'You will not even help me?' - -'Not in this thing, Sir Roger.' - -'Then by --, she shall not under any circumstances ever have a shilling -of mine. Give me some of that stuff there,' and he again pointed to -the brandy bottle which stood ever within his sight.' - -The doctor poured out and handed to him another small modicum of -spirit. - -'Nonsense, man; fill the glass. I'll stand no nonsense now. I'll be -master of my own house to the last. Give it here, I tell you. Ten -thousand devils are tearing me within. You--you could have comforted -me; but you would not. Fill the glass I tell you.' - -'I should be killing you were I to do it.' - -'Killing me! killing me! you are always talking of killing me. Do -you suppose that I am afraid to die? Do not I know how soon it is -coming? Give me the brandy, I say, or I will be out across the room to -fetch it.' - -'No, Scatcherd. I cannot give it to you; not while I am here. Do you -remember how you were engaged this morning?'--he had that morning taken -the sacrament from the parish clergyman--'you would not wish to make me -guilty of murder, would you?' - -'Nonsense! You are talking nonsense; habit is second nature. I tell -you I shall sink without it. Why, you know, I always get it directly -your back it turned. Come, I will not be bullied in my own house; give -me that bottle, I say!'--and Sir Roger essayed, vainly enough, to raise -himself from the bed. - -'Stop, Scatcherd; I will give it to you--I will help you. It may be -that habit is second nature.' Sir Roger in his determined energy had -swallowed, without thinking of it, the small quantity which the doctor -had before poured out for him, and still held the empty glass within -his hand. This the doctor now took and filled nearly to the brim. - -'Come, Thorne, a bumper; a bumper for this once. "Whatever the drink, -it a bumper must be." You stingy fellow! I would not treat you so. -Well--well.' - -'It's about as full as you can hold it, Scatcherd.' - -'Try me; try me! my hand is a rock; at least at holding liquor.' And -then he drained the contents of the glass, which were in sufficient -quantity to have taken away the breath of any ordinary man. - -'Ah, I'm better now. But, Thorne, I do love a full glass, ha! ha! ha!' - -There was something frightful, almost sickening, in the peculiar hoarse -guttural tone of his voice. The sounds came from him as though steeped -in brandy, and told, all too plainly, the havoc which the alcohol had -made. There was a fire too about his eyes which contrasted with his -sunken cheeks: his hanging jaw, unshorn beard, and haggard face were -terrible to look at. His hands and arms were hot and clammy, but so -thin and wasted! Of his lower limbs the lost use had not returned to -him, so that in all his efforts at vehemence he was controlled by his -own want of vitality. When he supported himself, half-sitting against -the pillows, he was in a continual tremor; and yet, as he boasted, he -could still lift his glass steadily to his mouth. Such now was the -hero of whom that ready compiler of memoirs had just finished his -correct and succinct account. - -After he had had his brandy, he sat glaring a while at vacancy, as -though he was dead to all around him, and was -thinking--thinking--thinking of things in the infinite distance of the -past. - -'Shall I go now,' said the doctor, 'and send Lady Scatcherd to you?' - -'Wait a while, doctor; just one minute longer. So you will do nothing -for Louis, then?' - -'I will do everything for him that I can do.' - -'Ah, yes! everything but the one thing that will save him. Well, I -will not ask you again. But remember, Thorne, I shall alter my will -to-morrow.' - -'Do so, by all means; you may well alter it for the better. If I may -advise you, you will have down your own business attorney from London. -If you will let me send he will be here before to-morrow night.' - -'Thank you for nothing, Thorne: I can manage that matter myself. Now -leave me; but remember, you have ruined that girl's fortune.' - -The doctor did leave him, and went not altogether happy to his room. He -could not but confess to himself that he had, despite himself as it -were, fed himself with hope that Mary's future might be made more -secure, aye, and brighter too, by some small unheeded fraction broken -off from the huge mass of her uncle's wealth. Such hope, if it had -amounted to hope, was now all gone. But this was not all, nor was this -the worst of it. That he had done right in utterly repudiating all -idea of a marriage between Mary and her cousin--of that he was certain -enough; that no earthly consideration would have induced Mary to plight -her troth to such a man--that, with him, was as certain as doom. But -how far had he done right in keeping her from the sight of her uncle? -How could he justify it to himself if he had thus robbed her of her -inheritance, seeing that he had done so from a selfish fear lest she, -who was now all his own, should be known to the world as belonging to -others rather than to him? He had taken upon him on her behalf to -reject wealth as valueless; and yet he had no sooner done so than he -began to consume his hours with reflecting how great to her would be -the value of wealth. And thus, when Sir Roger told him, as he left the -room, that he had ruined Mary's fortune, he was hardly able to bear the -taunt with equanimity. - -On the next morning, after paying his professional visit to his -patient, and satisfying himself that the end was now drawing near with -steps terribly quickened, he went down to Greshamsbury. - -'How long is this to last, uncle?' said his niece, with sad voice, as -he again prepared to return to Boxall Hill. - -'Not long, Mary; do not begrudge him a few more hours of life.' - -'No, I do not, uncle. I will say nothing more about it. Is his son -with him?' And then, perversely enough, she persisted in asking -numerous questions about Louis Scatcherd. - -'Is he likely to marry, uncle?' - -'I hope so, my dear.' - -'Will he be so very rich?' - -'Yes; ultimately he will be very rich.' - -'He will be a baronet, will he not?' - -'Yes, my dear.' - -'What is he like, uncle?' - -'Like--I never know what a young man is like. He is like a man with red -hair.' - -'Uncle, you are the worst hand in describing I ever knew. If I'd seen -him for five minutes, I'd be bound to make a portrait of him; and you, -if you were describing a dog, you'd only say what colour his hair was.' - -'Well, he's a little man.' - -'Exactly, just as I should say that Mrs Umbleby had a red-haired -little dog. I wish I had known these Scatcherds, uncle. I do admire -people that can push themselves in the world. I wish I had known Sir -Roger.' - -'You will never know him, Mary.' - -'I suppose not. I am so sorry for him. Is Lady Scatcherd nice?' - -'She is an excellent woman.' - -'I hope I may know her some day. You are so much there now, uncle; I -wonder whether you ever mention me to them. If you do, tell her from -me how much I grieve for her.' - -That same night, Dr Thorne again found himself alone with Sir Roger. -The sick man was much more tranquil, and apparently more at ease than -he had been on the preceding night. He said nothing about his will, -and not a word about Mary Thorne; but the doctor knew that Winterbones -and a notary's clerk from Barchester had been in the bedroom a great -part of the day; and, as he knew also that the great man of business -was accustomed to do his most important work by the hands of such tools -as these, he did not doubt but that the will had been altered and -remodelled. Indeed, he thought it more than probable, that when it was -opened it would be found to be wholly different in its provisions from -that which Sir Roger had already described. - -'Louis is clever enough,' he said, 'sharp enough, I mean. He won't -squander the property.' - -'He has good natural abilities,' said the doctor. - -'Excellent, excellent,' said the father. 'He may do well, very well, -if he can only be kept from this;' and Sir Roger held up the empty -wine-glass which stood by his bedside. 'What a life he may have before -him!--and to throw it away for this!' and as he spoke he took the glass -and tossed it across the room. 'Oh, doctor! would that it were all to -begin again!' - -'We all wish that, I dare say, Scatcherd.' - -'No, you don't wish it. You ain't worth a shilling, and yet you regret -nothing. I am worth half a million in one way or another, and I regret -everything-everything--everything!' - -'You should not think that way, Scatcherd; you need not think so. -Yesterday you told Mr Clarke that you were comfortable in your mind.' -Mr Clarke was the clergyman who had visited him. - -'Of course I did. What else could I say when he asked me? It wouldn't -have been civil to have told him that his time and words were all -thrown away. But, Thorne, believe me, when a man's heart is -sad--sad--sad to the core, a few words from a parson at the last moment -will never make it right.' - -'May He have mercy on you, my friend!--if you will think of Him, and -look to Him, He will have mercy on you.' - -'Well--I will try, doctor; but would that it were all to do again. -You'll see to the old woman for my sake, won't you?' - -'What, Lady Scatcherd?' - -'Lady Devil! If anything angers me now it is that "ladyship"--her to be -my lady! Why, when I came out of jail that time, the poor creature had -hardly a shoe to her foot. But it wasn't her fault, Thorne; it was -none of her doing. She never asked for such nonsense.' - -'She has been an excellent wife, Scatcherd; and what is more, she is an -excellent woman. She is, and ever will be, one of my dearest friends.' - -'Thank'ee, doctor, thank'ee. Yes; she has been a good wife--better for -a poor man than a rich one; but then, that was what she was born to. -You won't let her be knocked about by them, will you, Thorne?' - -Dr Thorne again assured him, that as long as he lived Lady Scatcherd -should never want one true friend; in making this promise, however, he -managed to drop all allusion to the obnoxious title. - -'You'll be with him as much as possible, won't you?' again asked the -baronet, after lying quite silent for a quarter of an hour. - -'With whom?' said the doctor, who was then all but asleep. - -'With my poor boy, Louis.' - -'If he will let me, I will,' said the doctor. - -'And, doctor, when you see a glass at his mouth, dash it down; thrust -it down, though you thrust out the teeth with it. When you see that, -Thorne, tell him of his father--tell him what his father might have been -but for that; tell him how his father died like a beast, because he -could not keep himself from drink.' - -These, reader, were the last words spoken by Sir Roger Scatcherd. As -he uttered them he rose up in bed with the same vehemence which he had -shown on the former evening. But in the very act of doing so he was -again struck by paralysis, and before nine on the following morning all -was over. - -'Oh, my man--my own, own man!' exclaimed the widow, remembering in the -paroxysm of her grief nothing but the loves of their early days; 'the -best, the brightest, the cleverest of them all!' - -Some weeks after this Sir Roger was buried, with much pomp and -ceremony, within the precincts of Barchester Cathedral; and a monument -was put up to him soon after, in which he was portrayed, as smoothing a -block of granite with a mallet and chisel; while his eagle eye, -disdaining such humble work, was fixed upon some intricate mathematical -instrument above him. Could Sir Roger have seen it himself, he would -probably have declared, that no workman was ever worth his salt who -looked one way while he rowed another. - -Immediately after the funeral the will was opened, and Dr Thorne -discovered that the clauses of it were exactly identical with those his -friend had described to him some months back. Nothing had been -altered; nor had the document been unfolded since that strange codicil -had been added, in which it was declared that Dr Thorne knew--and only -Dr Thorne--who was the eldest child of the testator's only sister. At -the same time, however, a joint executor with Dr Thorne had been -named--one Mr Stock, a man of railway fame--and Dr Thorne himself was -made a legatee to the humble extent of a thousand pounds. A life -income of a thousand pounds a year was left to Lady Scatcherd. - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - -WAR - -We need not follow Sir Roger to his grave, nor partake of the baked -meats which were furnished for his funeral banquet. Such men as Sir -Roger Scatcherd are always well buried, and we have already seen that -his glories were duly told to posterity in the graphic diction of his -sepulchral monument. In a few days the doctor had returned to his quite -home and Sir Louis found himself reigning at Boxall Hill in his -father's stead--with, however, a much diminished sway, and, as he -thought it, but a poor exchequer. We must soon return to him and say -something of his career as a baronet; but for the present, we may go -back to our more pleasant friends at Greshamsbury. - -But our friends at Greshamsbury had not been making themselves -pleasant--not so pleasant to each other as circumstances would have -admitted. In those days which the doctor had felt himself bound to -pass, if not altogether at Boxall Hill, yet altogether away from his -own home, so as to admit of his being as much as possible with his -patient, Mary had been thrown more than ever with Patience Oriel, and, -also, almost more than ever with Beatrice Gresham. As regarded Mary, -she would doubtless have preferred the companionship of Patience, -though she loved Beatrice far the best; but she had no choice. When -she went to the parsonage Beatrice came there also, and when Patience -came to the doctor's house Beatrice either accompanied or followed -her. Mary could hardly have rejected their society, even had she felt -it wise to do so. She would in such case have been all alone, and her -severance from the Greshamsbury house and household, from the big -family in which she had for so many years been almost at home, would -have made such solitude almost unendurable. - -And then these two girls both knew--not her secret; she had no -secret--but the little history of her ill-treatment. They knew that -though she had been blameless in this matter, yet she had been the one -to bear the punishment; and, as girls and bosom friends, they could not -but sympathize with her, and endow her with heroic attributes; make -her, in fact, as we are doing, their little heroine for the nonce. This -was, perhaps, not serviceable for Mary; but it was far from being -disagreeable. - -The tendency to finding matter for hero-worship in Mary's endurance was -much stronger with Beatrice than with Miss Oriel. Miss Oriel was the -elder, and naturally less afflicted with the sentimentation of -romance. She had thrown herself into Mary's arms because she had seen -that it was essentially necessary for Mary's comfort that she should do -so. She was anxious to make her friend smile, and to smile with her. -Beatrice was quite as true in her sympathy; but she rather wished that -she and Mary might weep in unison, shed mutual tears, and break their -hearts together. - -Patience had spoken of Frank's love as a misfortune, of his conduct as -erroneous, and to be excused only by his youth, and had never appeared -to surmise that Mary also might be in love as well as he. But to -Beatrice the affair was a tragic difficulty, admitting of no solution; -a Gordian knot, not to be cut; a misery now and for ever. She would -always talk about Frank when she and Mary were alone; and, to speak the -truth, Mary did not stop her as she perhaps should have done. - -As for a marriage between them, that was impossible; Beatrice was well -sure of that: it was Frank's unfortunate destiny that he must marry -money--money, and, as Beatrice sometimes thoughtlessly added, cutting -Mary to the quick,--money and family also. Under such circumstances a -marriage between them was quite impossible; but not the less did -Beatrice declare, that she would have loved Mary as her sister-in-law -had it been possible; and how worthy Frank was of a girl's love, had -such love been possible. - -'It is so cruel,' Beatrice would say; 'so very, very, cruel. - You would have suited him in every way.' - -'Nonsense, Trichy; I should have suited him in no possible way at all; -nor he me.' - -'Oh, but you would--exactly. Papa loves you so well.' - -'And mamma; that would have been so nice.' - -'Yes; and mamma, too--that is, had you had a fortune,' said the -daughter, naively. 'She always liked you personally, always.' - -'Did she?' - -'Always. And we all love you so.' - -'Especially Lady Alexandrina.' - -'That would not have signified, for Frank cannot endure the De Courcys -himself.' - -'My dear, it does not matter one straw whom your brother can endure or -not endure just at present. His character is to be formed, and his -tastes, and his heart also.' - -'Oh, Mary!--his heart.' - -'Yes, his heart; not the fact of his having a heart. I think he has a -heart; but he himself does not yet understand it.' - -'Oh, Mary! you do not know him.' - -Such conversations were not without danger to poor Mary's comfort. It -came soon to be the case that she looked rather for this sort of -sympathy from Beatrice, than for Miss Oriel's pleasant but less piquant -gaiety. - -So the days of the doctor's absence were passed, and so also the first -week after his return. During this week it was almost daily necessary -that the squire should be with him. The doctor was now the legal -holder of Sir Roger's property, and, as such, the holder also of all -the mortgages on Mr Gresham's property; and it was natural that they -should be much together. The doctor would not, however, go up to -Greshamsbury on any other than medical business; and it therefore -became necessary that the squire should be a good deal at the doctor's -house. - -Then the Lady Arabella became unhappy in her mind. Frank, it was true, -was away at Cambridge, and had been successfully kept out of Mary's way -since the suspicion of danger had fallen upon Lady Arabella's mind. -Frank was away, and Mary was systematically banished, with due -acknowledgement from all the powers in Greshamsbury. But this was not -enough for Lady Arabella as long as her daughter still habitually -consorted with the female culprit, and as long as her husband consorted -with the male culprit. It seemed to Lady Arabella at this moment as -though, in banishing Mary from the house, she had in effect banished -herself from the most intimate of the Greshamsbury social circles. She -magnified in her own mind the importance of the conferences between the -girls, and was not without some fear that the doctor might be talking -the squire over into very dangerous compliance. - -Her object was to break of all confidential intercourse between -Beatrice and Mary, and to interrupt, as far as she could do it, that -between the doctor and the squire. This, it may be said, could be more -easily done by skilful management within her own household. She had, -however, tried that and failed. She had said much to Beatrice as to -the imprudence of her friendship with Mary, and she had done this -purposely before the squire; injudiciously however--for the squire had -immediately taken Mary's part, and had declared that he had no wish to -see a quarrel between his family and that of the doctor; that Mary -Thorne was in every way a good girl, and an eligible friend for his own -child; and had ended by declaring, that he would not have Mary -persecuted for Frank's fault. This had not been the end, nor nearly -the end of what had been said on the matter at Greshamsbury; but the -end, when it came, came in this wise, that Lady Arabella determined to -say a few words to the doctor as to the expediency of forbidding -familiar intercourse between Mary and any of the Greshamsbury people. - -With this view Lady Arabella absolutely bearded the lion in his den, -the doctor in his shop. She had heard that both Mary and Beatrice were -to pass a certain afternoon at the parsonage, and took that opportunity -of calling at the doctor's house. A period of many years had passed -since she had last so honoured that abode. Mary, indeed, had been so -much one of her own family that the ceremony of calling on her had -never been thought necessary; and thus, unless Mary had been absolutely -ill, there would have been nothing to bring her ladyship to the house. -All this she knew would add to the importance of the occasion, and she -judged it prudent to make the occasion as important as it might well -be. - -She was so far successful that she soon found herself tete-a-tete with -the doctor in his own study. She was no whit dismayed by the pair of -human thigh-bones which lay close to his hand, and which, when he was -talking in that den of his own, he was in the constant habit of -handling with much energy; nor was she frightened out of her propriety -even by the little child's skull which grinned at her from off the -chimney-piece. - -'Doctor,' she said, as soon as the first complimentary greetings were -over, speaking in her kindest and most would-be-confidential tone. -'Doctor, I am still uneasy about that boy of mine, and I have thought -it best to come and see you at once, and tell you freely what I think.' - -The doctor bowed, and said that he was very sorry that she should have -any cause for uneasiness about his young friend Frank. - -'Indeed, I am very uneasy, doctor; and having, as I do have, such -reliance on your prudence, and such perfect confidence in your -friendship, I have thought it best to come and speak to you openly:' -thereupon the Lady Arabella paused, and the doctor bowed again. - -'Nobody knows so well as you do the dreadful state of the squire's -affairs.' - -'Not so dreadful; not so very dreadful,' said the doctor, mildly: 'that -is, as far as I know.' - -'Yes they are, doctor; very dreadful; very dreadful indeed. You know -how much he owes to this young man: I do not, for the squire never -tells anything to me; but I know that it is a very large sum of money; -enough to swamp the estate and ruin Frank. Now I call that very -dreadful.' - -'No, not ruin him, Lady Arabella; not ruin him, I hope.' - -'However, I did not come to talk to you about that. As I said before, -I know nothing of the squire's affairs, and, as a matter of course, I -do not ask you to tell me. But I am sure you will agree with me in -this that, as a mother, I cannot but be interested about my only son,' -and Lady Arabella put her cambric handkerchief to her eyes. - -'Of course you are; of course you are,' said the doctor; 'and, Lady -Arabella, my opinion of Frank is such, that I feel sure that he will do -well;' and, in his energy, Dr Thorne brandished one of the thigh-bones -almost in the lady's face. - -'I hope he will; I am sure I hope he will. But, doctor, he has such -dangers to contend with; he is so warm and impulsive that I fear his -heart will bring him into trouble. Now, you know, unless Frank marries -money he is lost.' - -The doctor made no answer to this last appeal, but as he sat and -listened a slight frown came across his brow. - -'He must marry money, doctor. Now we have, you see, with your -assistance, contrived to separate him from dear Mary--' - -'With my assistance, Lady Arabella! I have given no assistance, nor -have I meddled in the matter; nor will I.' - -'Well, doctor, perhaps not meddled; but you agreed with me, you know, -that the two young people had been imprudent.' - -'I agreed to no such thing, Lady Arabella; never, never. I not only -never agreed that Mary had been imprudent, but I will not agree to it -now, and will not allow any one to assert it in my presence without -contradicting it:' and then the doctor worked away at the thigh-bones -in a manner that did rather alarm her ladyship. - -'At any rate, you thought that the young people had better be kept -apart.' - -'No; neither did I think that: my niece, I felt sure, was safe from -danger. I knew that she would do nothing that would bring either her -or me to shame.' - -'Not to shame,' said the lady apologetically, as it were, using the -word perhaps not exactly in the doctor's sense. - -'I felt no alarm for her,' continued the doctor, 'and desired no -change. Frank is your son, and it is for you to look to him. You -thought proper to do so by desiring Mary to absent herself from -Greshamsbury.' - -'Oh, no, no, no!' said Lady Arabella. - -'But you did, Lady Arabella; and as Greshamsbury is your home, neither -I nor my niece had any ground of complaint. We acquiesced, not without -much suffering, but we did acquiesce; and you, I think, can have no -ground of complaint against me.' - -Lady Arabella had hardly expected that the doctor would reply to her -mild and conciliatory exordium with so much sternness. He had yielded -so easily to her on the former occasion. She did not comprehend that -when she uttered her sentence of exile against Mary, she had given an -order which she had the power of enforcing; but that obedience to that -order had now placed Mary altogether beyond her jurisdiction. She was, -therefore, a little surprised, and for a few moments overawed by the -doctor's manner; but she soon recovered herself, remembering, -doubtless, that fortune favours none but the brave. - -'I make no complaint, Dr Thorne,' she said, after assuming a tone more -befitting a De Courcy than that hitherto used, 'I make no complaint -either as regards you or Mary.' - -'You are very kind, Lady Arabella.' - -'But I think that it is my duty to put a stop, a peremptory stop to -anything like a love affair between my son and your niece.' - -'I have not the least objection in life. If there is such a love -affair, put a stop to it--that is, if you have the power.' - -Here the doctor was doubtless imprudent. But he had begun to think -that he had yielded sufficiently to the lady; and he had begun to -resolve, also, that though it would not become him to encourage even -the idea of such a marriage, he would make Lady Arabella understand -that he thought his niece quite good enough for her son, and that the -match, if regarded as imprudent, was to be regarded as equally -imprudent on both sides. He would not suffer that Mary and her heart -and feelings and interest should be altogether postponed to those of -the young heir; and, perhaps, he was unconsciously encouraged in this -determination by the reflection that Mary herself might perhaps become -a young heiress. - -'It is my duty,' said Lady Arabella, repeating her words with even a -stronger De Courcy intonation; 'and your duty also, Dr Thorne.' - -'My duty!' said he, rising from his chair and leaning on the table with -the two thigh-bones. 'Lady Arabella, pray understand at once, that I -repudiate any such duty, and will have nothing whatever to do with it.' - -'But you do not mean to say that you will encourage this unfortunate -boy to marry your niece?' - -'The unfortunate boy, Lady Arabella--whom, by the by, I regard as a very -fortunate young man--is your son, not mine. I shall take no steps about -his marriage, either one way or the other.' - -'You think it right, then, that your niece should throw herself in his -way?' - -'Throw herself in his way! What would you say if I came up to -Greshamsbury, and spoke of your daughters in such language? What would -my dear friend, Mr Gresham say, if some neighbour's wife should come -and so speak to him? I will tell you what he would say: he would -quietly beg her to go back to her own home and meddle only with her own -matters.' - -This was dreadful to Lady Arabella. Even Dr Thorne had never before -dared thus to lower her to the level of common humanity, and liken her -to any other wife in the country-side. Moreover, she was not quite -sure whether he, the parish doctor, was not desiring her, the earl's -daughter, to go home and mind her own business. On this first point, -however, there seemed to be no room for doubt, of which she gave -herself the benefit. - -'It would not become me to argue with you, Dr Thorne,' she said. - -'Not at least on this subject,' said he. - -'I can only repeat that I mean nothing offensive to our dear Mary; for -whom, I think I may say, I have always shown almost a mother's care.' - -'Neither am I, nor is Mary, ungrateful for the kindness she has -received at Greshamsbury.' - -'But I must do my duty: my own children must be my first -consideration.' - -'Of course they must, Lady Arabella; that's of course.' - -'And, therefore, I have called on you to say that I think it is -imprudent that Beatrice and Mary should be so much together.' - -The doctor had been standing during the latter part of this -conversation, but now he began to walk about, still holding the two -bones like a pair of dumb-bells. - -'God bless my soul!' he said; 'God bless my soul! Why, Lady Arabella, -do you suspect your own daughter as well as your own son? Do you think -that Beatrice is assisting Mary in preparing this wicked clandestine -marriage? I tell you fairly, Lady Arabella, the present tone of your -mind is such that I cannot understand it.' - -'I suspect nobody, Dr Thorne; but young people will be young.' - -'And old people must be old, I suppose; the more's the pity. Lady -Arabella, Mary is the same to me as my own daughter, and owes me the -obedience of a child; but as I do not disapprove of your daughter -Beatrice as an acquaintance for her, but rather, on the other hand, -regard with pleasure their friendship, you cannot expect that I should -take any steps to put an end to it.' - -'But suppose it should lead to renewed intercourse between Frank and -Mary?' - -'I have no objection. Frank is a very nice young fellow, gentlemanlike -in his manners, and neighbourly in his disposition.' - -'Dr Thorne--' - -'Lady Arabella--' - -'I cannot believe that you really intend to express a wish--' - -'You are quite right. I have not intended to express any wish; nor do -I intend to do so. Mary is at liberty, within certain bounds--which I -am sure she will not pass--to choose her own friends. I think she has -not chosen badly as regards Miss Beatrice Gresham; and should she even -add Frank Gresham to the number--' - -'Friends! why they were more than friends; they were declared lovers.' - -'I doubt that, Lady Arabella, because I have not heard of it from -Mary. But even if it were so, I do not see why I should object.' - -'Not object!' - -'As I said before, Frank is, to my thinking, an excellent young man. -Why should I object?' - -'Dr Thorne!' said her ladyship, now also rising from her chair in a -state of too evident perturbation. - -'Why should I object? It is for you, Lady Arabella, to look after your -lambs; for me to see that, if possible, no harm shall come to mine. If -you think that Mary is an improper acquaintance for your children, it -is for you to guide them; for you and their father. Say what you think -fit to your own daughter; but pray understand, once for all, that I -will allow no one to interfere with my niece.' - -'Interfere!' said Lady Arabella, now absolutely confused by the -severity of the doctor's manner. - -'I will allow no one to interfere with her; no one, Lady Arabella. She -has suffered very greatly from imputations which you have most unjustly -thrown on her. It was, however, your undoubted right to turn her out -of your house if you thought fit;--though, as a woman who had known her -for so many years, you might, I think, have treated her with more -forbearance. That, however, was your right, and you exercised it. -There your privilege stops; yes, and must stop, Lady Arabella. You -shall not persecute her here, on the only spot of ground she can call -her own.' - -'Persecute her, Dr Thorne! You do not mean to say that I have -persecuted her?' - -'Ah! but I do mean to say so. You do persecute her, and would -continue to do so did I not defend her. It is not sufficient that she -is forbidden to enter your domain--and so forbidden with the knowledge -of all the country round--but you must come here also with the hope of -interrupting all the innocent pleasures of her life. Fearing lest she -should be allowed even to speak to your son, to hear of word of him -through his own sister, you would put her in prison, tie her up, keep -her from the light of day--' - -'Dr Thorne! how can you--' - -But the doctor was not to be interrupted. - -'It never occurs to you to tie him up, to put him in prison. No; he is -the heir of Greshamsbury; he is your son, an earl's grandson. It is -only natural, after all, that he should throw a few foolish words at -the doctor's niece. But she! it is an offence not to be forgiven on -her part that she should, however, unwillingly, have been forced to -listen to them! Now understand me, Lady Arabella; if any of your -family come to my house I shall be delighted to welcome them; if Mary -should meet any of them elsewhere I shall be delighted to hear of it. -Should she tell me to-morrow that she was engaged to marry Frank, I -should talk the matter over with her, quite coolly, solely with a view -to her interest, as would be my duty; feeling, at the same time, that -Frank would be lucky in having such a wife. Now you know my mind, Lady -Arabella. It is so I should do my duty;--you can do yours as you may -think fit.' - -Lady Arabella had by this time perceived that she was not destined, on -this occasion to gain any great victory. She, however, was angry as -well as the doctor. It was not the man's vehemence that provoked her -so much as his evident determination to break down the prestige of her -rank, and place her on a footing in no respect superior to his own. He -had never before been so audaciously arrogant; and, as she moved -towards the door, she determined in her wrath that she would never -again have confidential intercourse with him in any relation of life -whatsoever. - -'Dr Thorne,' said she. 'I think you have forgotten yourself. You must -excuse me if I say that after what has passed I--I--I--' - -'Certainly,' said he, fully understanding what she meant; and bowing -low as he opened first the study-door, then the front-door, then the -garden-gate. - -And then the Lady Arabella stalked off, not without full observation -from Mrs Yates Umbleby and her friend Miss Gustring, who lived close -by. - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - -MISS THORNE GOES ON A VISIT - -And now began the unpleasant things at Greshamsbury of which we have -here told. When Lady Arabella walked away from the doctor's house she -resolved that, let it cost what it might, there should be war to the -knife between her and him. She had been insulted by him--so at least -she said to herself, and so she was prepared to say to others also--and -it was not to be borne that a De Courcy should allow her parish doctor -to insult her with impunity. She would tell her husband with all the -dignity that she could assume, that it had now become absolutely -necessary that he should protect his wife by breaking entirely with his -unmannered neighbour; and, as regarded the young members of her family, -she would use the authority of a mother, and absolutely forbid them to -hold any intercourse with Mary Thorne. So resolving, she walked -quickly back to her own house. - -The doctor, when left alone, was not quite satisfied with the part he -had taken in the interview. He had spoken from impulse rather than -from judgement, and, as is generally the case with men who do so speak, -he had afterwards to acknowledge to himself that he had been -imprudent. He accused himself probably with more violence than he had -really used, and was therefore unhappy; but, nevertheless, his -indignation was not at rest. He was angry with himself; but not on -that account the less angry with Lady Arabella. She was cruel of -manners, so he thought; but not on that account was he justified in -forgetting the forbearance due from a gentleman to a lady. Mary, -moreover, had owed much to the kindness of this woman, and, therefore, -Dr Thorne felt that he should have forgiven much. - -Thus the doctor walked about his room, much disturbed; now accusing -himself for having been so angry with Lady Arabella, and then feeding -his own anger by thinking of her misconduct. - -The only immediate conclusion at which he resolved was this, that it -was unnecessary that he should say anything to Mary on the subject of -her ladyship's visit. There was no doubt, sorrow enough in store for -his darling; why should he aggravate it? Lady Arabella would doubtless -not stop now in her course; but why should he accelerate the evil which -she would doubtless be able to effect? - -Lady Arabella, when she returned to the house, allowed no grass to grow -under her feet. As she entered the house she desired that Miss -Beatrice should be sent to her directly she returned; and she desired -also, that as soon as the squire should be in his room a message to -that effect might be immediately brought to her. - -'Beatrice,' she said, as soon as the young lady appeared before her, -and in speaking she assumed her firmest tone of authority, 'Beatrice, I -am sorry, my dear, to say anything that is unpleasant to you, but I -must make it a positive request that you will for the future drop all -intercourse with Dr Thorne's family.' - -Beatrice, who had received Lady Arabella's message immediately on -entering the house, and had run upstairs imagining that some instant -haste was required, now stood before her mother rather out of breath, -holding her bonnet by the strings. - -'Oh, mamma!' she exclaimed, 'what on earth has happened?' - -'My dear,' said the mother, 'I cannot really explain to you what has -happened; but I must ask you to give me positive your assurance that -you will comply with my request.' - -'You don't mean that I am not to see Mary any more?' - -'Yes, I do, my dear; at any rate, for the present. When I tell you -that your brother's interest imperatively demands it, I am sure that -you will not refuse me.' - -Beatrice did not refuse, but she did not appear too willing to comply. -She stood silent, leaning against the end of a sofa and twisting her -bonnet-strings in her hand. - -'Well, Beatrice--' - -'But, mamma, I don't understand.' - -Lady Arabella had said that she could not exactly explain: but she -found it necessary to attempt to do so. - -'Dr Thorne has openly declared to me that a marriage between poor Frank -and Mary is all he could desire for his niece. After such unparalleled -audacity as that, even your father will see the necessity of breaking -with him.' - -'Dr Thorne! Oh, mamma, you must have misunderstood him.' - -'My dear, I am not apt to misunderstand people; especially when I am so -much in earnest as I was in talking to Dr Thorne.' - -'But, mamma, I know so well what Mary herself thinks about it.' - -'And I know what Dr Thorne thinks about it; he, at any rate, has been -candid in what he said; there can be no doubt on earth that he has -spoken his true thoughts; there can be no reason to doubt him; of -course such a match would be all that he could wish.' - -'Mamma, I feel sure that there is some mistake.' - -'Very well, my dear. I know that you are infatuated about these -people, and that you are always inclined to contradict what I say to -you; but, remember, I expect that you will obey me when I tell you not -to go to Dr Thorne's house any more.' - -'But, mamma--' - -'I expect you to obey me, Beatrice. Though you are so prone to -contradict, you have never disobeyed me; and I fully trust that you -will not do so now.' - -Lady Arabella had begun by exacting, or trying to exact a promise, but -as she found that this was not forthcoming, she thought it better to -give up the point without a dispute. It might be that Beatrice would -absolutely refuse to pay this respect to her mother's authority, and -then where would she have been? - -At this moment a servant came up to say that the squire was in his -room, and Lady Arabella was opportunely saved the necessity of -discussing the matter further with her daughter. 'I am now,' she said, -'going to see your father on the same subject; you may be quite sure, -Beatrice that I should not willingly speak to him on any matter -relating to Dr Thorne did I not find it absolutely necessary to do so.' - -This Beatrice knew was true, and she did therefore feel convinced that -something terrible must have happened. - -While Lady Arabella opened her budget the squire sat quite silent, -listening to her with appropriate respect. She found it necessary that -her description to him should be much more elaborate than that which -she had vouchsafed to her daughter, and, in telling her grievance, she -insisted most especially on the personal insult which had been offered -to herself. - -'After what has now happened,' said she, not quite able to repress a -tone of triumph as she spoke, 'I do expect, Mr Gresham, that you -will--will--' - -'Will what, my dear?' - -'Will at least protect me from the repetition of such treatment.' - -'You are not afraid that Dr Thorne will come here and attack you? As -far as I can understand, he never comes near the place, unless you send -for him.' - -'No; I do not think that he will come to Greshamsbury any more. I -believe I have put a stop to that.' - -'Then what is it, my dear, that you want me to do?' - -Lady Arabella paused a minute before she replied. The game which she -now had to play was not very easy; she knew, or thought she knew, that -her husband, in his heart of hearts, much preferred his friend to the -wife of his bosom, and that he would, if he could, shuffle out of -noticing the doctor's iniquities. It behoved her, therefore, to put -them forward in such a way that they must be noticed. - -'I suppose, Mr Gresham, you do not wish that Frank should marry the -girl?' - -'I do not think there is the slightest chance of such a thing; and I am -quite sure that Dr Thorne would not encourage it.' - -'But I tell you, Mr Gresham, that he says he will encourage it.' - -'Oh, you misunderstand him.' - -'Of course; I always misunderstand everything. I know that. I -misunderstood it when I told you how you would distress yourself if you -took those nasty hounds.' - -'I have had other troubles more expensive than the hounds,' said the -poor squire, sighing. - -'Oh, yes; I know what you mean; a wife and family are expensive, of -course. It is a little too late to complain of that.' - -'My dear, it is always too late to complain of any troubles when they -are no longer to be avoided. We need not, therefore, talk any more -about hounds at present.' - -'I do not wish to speak of them, Mr Gresham.' - -'Nor I.' - -'But I hope you will not think me unreasonable if I am anxious to know -what you intend to do about Dr Thorne.' - -'To do?' - -'Yes; I suppose you will do something: you do not wish to see your son -marry such a girl as Mary Thorne.' - -'As far as the girl herself is concerned,' said the squire, turning -rather red, 'I am not sure that he could do much better. I know -nothing whatever against Mary. Frank, however, cannot afford to make -such a match. It would be his ruin.' - -'Of course it would; utter ruin; he never could hold up his head -again. Therefore it is I ask, What do you intend to do?' - -The squire was bothered. He had no intention whatever of doing -anything, an no belief in his wife's assertion as to Dr Thorne's -iniquity. But he did not know how to get her out of the room. She -asked him the same question over and over again, and on each occasion -urged on him the heinousness of the insult to which she personally had -been subjected; so that at last he was driven to ask her what it was -she wished him to do. - -'Well, then, Mr Gresham, if you ask me, I must say, that I think you -should abstain from any intercourse with Dr Thorne whatever.' - -'Break off all intercourse with him?' - -'Yes.' - -'What do you mean? He has been turned out of this house, and I'm not -to go to see him at his own.' - -'I certainly think that you ought to discontinue your visits to Dr -Thorne altogether.' - -'Nonsense, my dear; absolute nonsense.' - -'Nonsense! Mr Gresham; it is no nonsense. As you speak in that way, I -must let you know plainly what I feel. I am endeavouring to do my duty -by my son. As you justly observe, such a marriage as this would be -utter ruin to him. When I found that the young people were actually -talking of being in love with each other, making vows and all that sort -of thing, I did think it time to interfere. I did not, however, turn -them out of Greshamsbury as you accuse me of doing. In the kindest -possible manner--' - -'Well--well--well; I know all that. There, they are gone, and that's -enough. I don't complain; surely that ought to be enough.' - -'Enough! Mr Gresham. No; it is not enough. I find that, in spite of -what has occurred, the closest intimacy exists between the two -families; that poor Beatrice, who is so very young, and not so prudent -as she should be, is made to act as a go-between; and when I speak to -the doctor, hoping that he will assist me in preventing this, he not -only tells me that he means to encourage Mary in her plans, but -positively insults me to my face, laughs at me for being an earl's -daughter, and tells me--yes, he absolutely told me--to get out of his -house.' - -Let it be told with some shame as to the squire's conduct, that his -first feeling on hearing this was one of envy--of envy and regret that -he could not make the same uncivil request. Not that he wished to turn -his wife absolutely out of his house; but he would have been very glad -to have had the power of dismissing her summarily from his own room. -This, however, was at present impossible; so he was obliged to make -some mild reply. - -'You must have mistaken him, my dear. He could not have intended to -say that.' - -'Oh! of course, Mr Gresham. It is a mistake, of course. It will be a -mistake, only a mistake when you find your son married to Mary Thorne.' - -'Well, my dear, I cannot undertake to quarrel with Dr Thorne.' This was -true; for the squire could hardly have quarrelled with Dr Thorne, even -had he wished it. - -'Then I think it right to tell you that I shall. And, Mr Gresham, I -did not expect much co-operation from you; but I did think that you -would have shown some little anger when you heard that I had been so -ill-treated. I shall, however, know how to take care of myself; and I -shall continue to do the best I can to protect Frank from these wicked -intrigues.' - -So saying, her ladyship arose and left the room, having succeeded in -destroying to comfort of all our Greshamsbury friends. It was very -well for the squire to declare that he would not quarrel with Dr -Thorne, and of course he did not do so. But he, himself, had no wish -whatever that his son should marry Mary Thorne; and as a falling drop -will hollow a stone, so did the continual harping of his wife on the -subject give rise to some amount of suspicion in his own mind. Then as -to Beatrice, though she had made no promise that she would not again -visit Mary, she was by no means prepared to set her mother's authority -altogether at defiance; and she also was sufficiently uncomfortable. - -Dr Thorne said nothing of the matter to his niece, and she, therefore, -would have been absolutely bewildered by Beatrice's absence, had she -not received some tidings of what had taken place at Greshamsbury -through Patience Oriel. Beatrice and Patience discussed the matter -fully, and it was agreed between them that it would be better that Mary -should know what sterner orders respecting her had gone forth from the -tyrant at Greshamsbury, and that she might understand that Beatrice's -absence was compulsory. Patience was thus placed in this position, -that on one day she walked and talked with Beatrice, and on the next -with Mary; and so matters went on for a while at Greshamsbury--not very -pleasantly. - -Very unpleasantly and very uncomfortably did the months of May and June -pass away. Beatrice and Mary occasionally met, drinking tea together -at the parsonage, or in some other of the ordinary meetings of the -country society; but there were no more confidentially distressing -confidential discourses, no more whispering of Frank's name, no more -sweet allusions to the inexpediency of a passion, which, according to -Beatrice's views, would have been so delightful had it been expedient. - -The squire and the doctor also met constantly; there were unfortunately -many subjects on which they were obliged to meet. Louis Philippe--or Sir -Louis as we must call him--though he had no power over his own property, -was wide awake to all the coming privileges of ownership, and he would -constantly point out to his guardian the manner in which, according to -his ideas, the most should be made of it. The young baronet's ideas of -good taste were not of the most refined description, and he did not -hesitate to tell Dr Thorne that his, the doctor's friendship with Mr -Gresham must be no bar to his, the baronet's interest. Sir Louis also -had his own lawyer, who gave Dr Thorne to understand, that, according -to his ideas, the sum due on Mr Gresham's property was too large to be -left on its present footing; the title-deeds, he said, should be -surrendered or the mortgage foreclosed. All this added to the sadness -which now seemed to envelop the village of Greshamsbury. - -Early in July Frank was to come home. The manner in which the comings -and goings of 'poor Frank' were allowed to disturb the arrangements of -all the ladies, and some of the gentlemen, of Greshamsbury was most -abominable. And yet it can hardly be said to have been his fault. He -would have been only too well pleased had things been allowed to go on -after their old fashion. Things were not allowed so to go on. At -Christmas Miss Oriel had submitted to be exiled, in order that she -might carry Mary away from the presence of the young Bashaw, an -arrangement by which all the winter festivities of the poor doctor had -been thoroughly sacrificed; and now it began to be said that some -similar plan for the summer must be arranged. - -It must not be supposed that any direction to this effect was conveyed -either to Mary or to the doctor. The suggestion came from them, and was -mentioned only to Patience. But Patience, as a matter of course, told -Beatrice, and Beatrice told her mother, somewhat triumphantly, hoping -thereby to convince the she-dragon of Mary's innocence. Alas! -she-dragons are not easily convinced of the innocence of any one. Lady -Arabella quite coincided the propriety of Mary's being sent -off,--whither she never inquired,--in order that the coast might be -clear for 'poor Frank'; but she did not a whit the more abstain from -talking of the wicked intrigues of those Thornes. As it turned out, -Mary's absence caused her to talk all the more. - -The Boxall Hill property, including the house and furniture, had been -left to the contractor's son; it being understood that the property -would not be at present in his own hands, but that he might inhabit the -house if he chose to do so. It would thus be necessary for Lady -Scatcherd to find a home for herself, unless she could remain at Boxall -Hill by her son's permission. In this position of affairs the doctor -had been obliged to make a bargain between them. Sir Louis did wish to -have the comfort, or perhaps the honour, of a country house; but he did -not wish to have the expense of keeping it up. He was also willing to -let his mother live at the house; but not without a consideration. -After a prolonged degree of haggling, terms were agreed upon; and a few -weeks after her husband's death, Lady Scatcherd found herself alone at -Boxall Hill--alone as regards society in the ordinary sense, but not -quite alone as concerned her ladyship, for the faithful Hannah was -still with her. - -The doctor was of course often at Boxall Hill, and never left it -without an urgent request from Lady Scatcherd that he would bring his -niece over to see her. Now Lady Scatcherd was no fit companion for -Mary Thorne, and though Mary had often asked to be taken to Boxall -Hill, certain considerations had hitherto induced the doctor to refuse -the request; but there was about Lady Scatcherd,--a kind of homely -honesty of purpose, an absence of all conceit as to her own position, -and a strength of womanly confidence in the doctor as her friend, which -by degrees won upon his heart. When, therefore, both he and Mary felt -that it would be better for her again to absent herself for a while -from Greshamsbury, it was, after much deliberation, agreed that she -should go on a visit to Boxall Hill. - -To Boxall Hill, accordingly, she went, and was received almost as a -princess. Mary had all her life been accustomed to women of rank, and -had never habituated herself to feel much trepidation in the presence -of titled grandees; but she had prepared herself to be more than -ordinarily submissive to Lady Scatcherd. Her hostess was a widow, was -not a woman of high birth, was a woman of whom her uncle spoke well; -and, for all these reasons, Mary was determined to respect her, and pay -to her every consideration. But when she settled down in the house she -found it almost impossible to do so. Lady Scatcherd treated her as a -farmer's wife might have treated a convalescent young lady who had been -sent to her charge for a few weeks, in order that she might benefit by -the country air. Her ladyship could hardly bring herself to sit still -and eat her dinner tranquilly in her guest's presence. And then -nothing was good enough for Mary. Lady Scatcherd besought her, almost -with tears, to say what she liked best to eat and drink; and was in -despair when Mary declared she didn't care, that she liked anything, -and that she was in nowise particular in such matters. - -'A roast fowl, Miss Thorne?' - -'Very nice, Lady Scatcherd.' - -'And bread sauce?' - -'Bread sauce--yes; oh, yes--I like bread sauce,'--and poor Mary tried -hard to show a little interest. - -'And just a few sausages. We make them all in the house, Miss Thorne; -we know what they are. And mashed potatoes--do you like them best -mashed or baked?' - -Mary finding herself obliged to vote, voted for mashed potatoes. - -'Very well. But, Miss Thorne, if you like boiled fowl better, with a -little bit of ham, you know, I do hope you'll say so. And there's lamb -in the house, quite beautiful; now do'ee say something; do'ee, Miss -Thorne.' - -So invoked, Mary felt herself obliged to say something, and declared -for the roast fowl and sausages; but she found it very difficult to pay -much outward respect to a person who would pay so much outward respect -to her. A day or two after her arrival it was decided that she should -ride about the place on a donkey; she was accustomed to riding, the -doctor having generally taken care that one of his own horses should, -when required, consent to carry a lady; but there was no steed at -Boxall Hill that she could mount; and when Lady Scatcherd had offered -to get a pony for her, she had willingly compromised matters by -expressing the delight she would have in making a campaign on a -donkey. Upon this, Lady Scatcherd had herself set off in quest of the -desired animal, much to Mary's horror; and did not return till the -necessary purchase had been effected. Then she came back with the -donkey close at her heels, almost holding its collar, and stood there -at the hall-door till Mary came to approve. - -'I hope she'll do. I don't think she'll kick,' said Lady Scatcherd, -patting the head of her purchase quite triumphantly. - -'Oh, you are so kind, Lady Scatcherd. I'm sure she'll do quite nicely; -she seems very quiet,' said Mary. - -'Please, my lady, it's a he,' said the boy who held the halter. - -'Oh! a he, is it?' said her ladyship; 'but the he-donkeys are quite as -quiet as the shes ain't they?' - -'Oh, yes, my lady; a deal quieter, all the world over, and twice as -useful.' - -'I'm so glad of that, Miss Thorne,' said Lady Scatcherd, her eyes -bright with joy. - -And so Mary was established with her donkey, who did all that could be -expected from an animal in his position. - -'But, dear Lady Scatcherd,' said Mary, as they sat together at the open -drawing-room window the same evening, 'you must not go on calling me -Miss Thorne; my name is Mary, you know. Won't you call me Mary?' and -she came and knelt at Lady Scatcherd's feet, and took hold of her, -looking up into her face. - -Lady Scatcherd's cheeks became rather red, as though she was somewhat -ashamed of her position. - -'You are very kind to me,' continued Mary, 'and it seems so cold to -hear you call me Miss Thorne.' - -'Well, Miss Thorne, I'm sure I'd call you anything to please you. Only -I didn't know whether you'd like it from me. Else I do think Mary is -the prettiest name in all the language.' - -'I should like it very much.' - -'My dear Roger always loved that name better than any other; ten times -better. I used to wish sometimes that I'd been called Mary.' - -'Did he! Why?' - -'He once had a sister called Mary; such a beautiful creature! I declare -that sometimes think you are like her.' - -'Oh, dear! then she must have been very beautiful indeed!' said Mary, -laughing. - -'She was very beautiful. I just remember her--oh, so beautiful! she was -quite a poor girl, you know; and so was I then. Isn't it odd that I -should have to be called "my lady" now. Do you know Miss Thorne--' - -'Mary! Mary!' said her guest. - -'Ah, yes; but somehow, I hardly like to make so free; but, as I was -saying, I do so dislike being called "my lady": I always think the -people are laughing at me; and so they are.' - -'Oh, nonsense.' - -'Yes they are though: poor dear Roger, he used to call me "my lady" -just to make fun of me; I didn't mind it so much from him. But, Miss -Thorne--' - -'Mary, Mary, Mary.' - -'Ah, well! I shall do it in time. But, Miss--Mary, ha! ha! ha! never -mind, let me alone. But what I want to say is this: do you think I -could drop it? Hannah says, that if I go the right way about it she is -sure I can.' - -'Oh! but, Lady Scatcherd, you shouldn't think of such a thing.' - -'Shouldn't I now?' - -'Oh, no; for your husband's sake you should be proud of it. He gained -great honour, you know.' - -'Ah, well,' said she, sighing after a short pause; 'if you think it -will do him any good, of course I'll put up with it. And then I know -Louis would be mad if I talked of such a thing. But, Miss Thorne, dear, -a woman like me don't like to have to be made a fool of all the days of -her life if she can help it.' - -'But, Lady Scatcherd,' said Mary, when this question of the title had -been duly settled, and her ladyship made to understand that she must -bear the burden for the rest of her life, 'but, Lady Scatcherd, you -were speaking of Sir Roger's sister; what became of her?' - -'Oh, she did very well at last, as Sir Roger did himself; but in early -life she was very unfortunate--just at Historia Augusta time of my -marriage to dear Roger--,' and then, just as she was about to commence -so much as she knew of the history of Mary Scatcherd, she remembered -that the author of her sister-in-law's misery had been a Thorne, a -brother of the doctor; and, therefore, as she presumed, a relative of -her guest; and suddenly she became mute. - -'Well,' said Mary; 'just as you were married, Lady Scatcherd?' - -Poor Lady Scatcherd had very little worldly knowledge, and did not in -the least know how to turn the conversation or escape from the trouble -into which she had fallen. All manner of reflections began to crowd -upon her. In her early days she had known very little of the Thornes, -nor had she thought much of them since, except as regarded her friend -the doctor; but at this moment she began to think that she had never -heard more than two brothers in the family. Who then could have Mary's -father? She felt at once that it would be improper for to say anything -as to Henry Thorne's terrible faults and sudden fate;--improper also, to -say more about Mary Scatcherd; but she was quite unable to drop the -matter otherwise than abruptly, and with a start. - -'She was very unfortunate, you say, Lady Scatcherd?' - -'Yes, Miss Thorne; Mary, I mean--never mind me--I shall do it in time. -Yes, she was; but now I think of it, I had better say nothing more -about it. There are reasons, and I ought not to have spoken of it. You -won't be provoked with me, will you?' - -Mary assured her that she would not be provoked, and of course asked no -more questions about Mary Scatcherd; nor did she think much more about -it. It was not so however with her ladyship, who could not keep -herself from reflecting that the old clergyman at the Close at -Barchester certainly had but two sons, one of whom was now the doctor -at Greshamsbury, and the other of whom had perished so wretchedly at -the gate of that farmyard. Who then was the father of Mary Thorne? - -The days passed very quietly at Boxall Hill. Every morning Mary went -out on her donkey, who justified by his demeanour all that had been -said in his praise; then she would read or draw, then walk with Lady -Scatcherd, then dine, then walk again; and so the days passed quietly -away. Once or twice a week the doctor would come over and drink his -tea there, riding home in the cool of the evening. Mary also received -one visit from her friend Patience. - -So the days passed quietly away till the tranquillity of the house was -suddenly broken by tidings from London. Lady Scatcherd received a -letter from her son, contained in three lines, in which he intimated -that on the following day he meant to honour them with a visit. He had -intended, he said, to have gone to Brighton with some friends; but as -he felt himself a little out of sorts, he would postpone his marine -trip and do his mother the grace of spending a few days with her. - -This news was not very pleasant to Mary, by whom it had been -understood, as it had been also by her uncle, that Lady Scatcherd would -have had the house to herself; but as there was no means of preventing -the evil, Mary could only inform the doctor, and prepare herself to -meet Sir Louis Scatcherd. - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII - -THE DOCTOR HEARS SOMETHING TO HIS ADVANTAGE - -Sir Louis Scatcherd had told his mother that he was rather out of -sorts, and when he reached Boxall Hill it certainly did not appear that -he had given any exaggerated statement of his own maladies. He -certainly was a good deal out of sorts. He had had more than one attack -of delirium tremens after his father's death, and had almost been at -death's door. - -Nothing had been said about this by Dr Thorne at Boxall Hill; but he -was by no means ignorant of his ward's state. Twice he had gone up to -London to visit him; twice he had begged him to go down into the -country and place himself under his mother's care. On the last -occasion, the doctor had threatened him with all manner of pains and -penalties: with pains, as to his speedy departure from this world and -all its joys; and with penalties, in the shape of poverty if that -departure should by any chance be retarded. But these threats had at -the moment been in vain, and the doctor had compromised matters by -inducing Sir Louis to promise that he would go to Brighton. The -baronet, however, who was at length frightened by some renewed attack, -gave up his Brighton scheme, and, without notice to the doctor, hurried -down to Boxall Hill. - -Mary did not see him on the first day of his coming, but the doctor -did. He received such intimation of the visit as enabled him to be at -the house soon after the young man's arrival; and, knowing that his -assistance might be necessary, he rode over to Boxall Hill. It was a -dreadful task to him, this of making the same fruitless endeavour for -the son that he had made for the father, and in the same house. But he -was bound by every consideration to perform the task. He had promised -the father that he would do for the son all that was in his power; and -he had, moreover, the consciousness, that should Sir Louis succeed in -destroying himself, the next heir to all the property was his own -niece, Mary Thorne. - -He found Sir Louis in a low, wretched, miserable state. Though he was -a drunkard as his father was, he was not at all such a drunkard as his -father. The physical capacities of the men were very different. The -daily amount of alcohol which the father had consumed would have burnt -up the son in a week; whereas, though the son was continually tipsy, -what he swallowed would hardly have had an injurious effect upon the -father. - -'You are all wrong, quite wrong,' said Sir Louis petulantly; 'it isn't -that at all. I have taken nothing this week past--literally nothing. I -think it's the liver.' - -Dr Thorne wanted no one to tell him what was the matter with his ward. -It was his liver; his liver, and his head, and his stomach, and his -heart. Every organ in his body had been destroyed, or was in the -course of destruction. His father had killed himself with brandy; the -son more elevated in his tastes, was doing the same thing with curacoa, -maraschino, and cherry-bounce. - -'Sir Louis,' said the doctor--he was obliged to be much more punctilious -with him than he had been with the contractor--'the matter is in your -hands entirely: if you cannot keep your lips from that accursed poison, -you have nothing in this world to look forward to; nothing, nothing!' - -Mary proposed to return with her uncle to Greshamsbury, and he was at -first inclined that she should do so. But this idea was overruled, -partly in compliance with Lady Scatcherd's entreaties, and partly -because it would have seemed as though they had both thought the -presence of the owner had made the house an unfit habitation for decent -people. The doctor, therefore, returned, leaving Mary there; and Lady -Scatcherd busied herself between her two guests. - -On the next day Sir Louis was able to come down to a late dinner, and -Mary was introduced to him. He had dressed himself in his best array; -and as he had--at any rate for the present moment--been frightened out -of his libations, he was prepared to make himself as agreeable as -possible. His mother waited on him almost as a slave might have done; -but she seemed to do so with the fear of a slave rather than the love of -a mother. She was fidgety in her attentions, and worried him by -endeavouring to make her evening sitting-room agreeable. - -But Sir Louis, though he was not very sweetly behaved under these -manipulations from his mother's hands, was quite complaisant to Miss -Thorne; nay, after the expiration of a week he was almost more than -complaisant. He piqued himself on his gallantry, and now found that, -in the otherwise dull seclusion of Boxall Hill, he had a good -opportunity of exercising it. To do him justice it must be admitted -that he would not have been incapable of a decent career had he -stumbled on some girl who could have loved him before he stumbled upon -his maraschino bottle. Such might have been the case with many a lost -rake. The things that are bad are accepted because the things that are -good do not come easily in his way. How many a miserable father -reviles with bitterness of spirit the low tastes of his son, who has -done nothing to provide his child with higher pleasures! - -Sir Louis--partly in the hopes of Mary's smiles, and partly frightened -by the doctor's threats--did, for a while, keep himself within decent -bounds. He did not usually appear before Mary's eyes till three or -four in the afternoon; but when he did come forth, he came forth sober -and resolute to please. His mother was delighted, and was not slow to -sing his praises; and even the doctor, who now visited Boxall Hill more -frequently than ever, began to have some hopes. - -One constant subject, I must not say of conversation, on the part of -Lady Scatcherd, but rather of declamation, had hitherto been the beauty -and manly attributes of Frank Gresham. She had hardly ceased to talk -to Mary of the infinite good qualities of the young squire, and -especially of his prowess in the matter of Mr Moffat. Mary had -listened to all this eloquence, not perhaps with inattention, but -without much reply. She had not been exactly sorry to hear Frank -talked about; indeed, had she been so minded, she could herself have -said something on the same subject; but she did not wish to take Lady -Scatcherd altogether into her confidence, and she had been unable to -say much about Frank Gresham without doing so. Lady Scatcherd had, -therefore, gradually conceived that her darling was not a favourite -with her guest. - -Now, therefore, she changed the subject; and, as her own son was -behaving with such unexampled propriety, she dropped Frank and confined -her eulogies to Louis. He had been a little wild, she admitted; young -men so often were so; but she hoped that it was now over. - -'He does still take a little drop of those French drinks in the -morning,' said Lady Scatcherd, in her confidence; for she was too -honest to be false, even in her own cause. 'He does that, I know: but -that's nothing, my dear, to swilling all day; and everything can't be -done at once, can it, Miss Thorne?' - -On this subject Mary found her tongue loosened. She could not talk -about Frank Gresham, but she could speak with hope to the mother of her -only son. She could say that Sir Louis was still very young; that -there was reason to trust that he might now reform; that his present -conduct was apparently good; and that he appeared capable of better -things. So much she did say; and the mother took her sympathy for more -than it was worth. - -On this matter, and on this matter perhaps alone, Sir Louis and Lady -Scatcherd were in accord. There was much to recommend Mary to the -baronet; not only did he see her to be beautiful, and perceive her to -be attractive and ladylike; but she was also the niece of the man who, -for the present, held the purse-strings of his wealth. Mary, it is -true, had no fortune. But Sir Louis knew that she was acknowledged to -be a lady; and he was ambitious that his 'lady' should be a lady. There -was also much to recommend Mary to the mother, to any mother; and thus -it came to pass, that Miss Thorne had no obstacle between her and the -dignity of being Lady Scatcherd the second;--no obstacle whatever, if -only she could bring herself to wish it. - -It was some time--two or three weeks, perhaps--before Mary's mind was -first opened to this new brilliancy in her prospects. Sir Louis at -first was rather afraid of her, and did not declare his admiration in -any very determined terms. He certainly paid her many compliments -which, from any one else she would have regarded as abominable. But -she did not expect great things from the baronet's taste: she concluded -that he was only doing what he thought a gentleman should do; and she -was willing to forgive much for Lady Scatcherd's sake. - -His first attempts were, perhaps, more ludicrous than passionate. He -was still too much an invalid to take walks, and Mary was therefore -saved from his company in her rambles; but he had a horse of his own at -Boxall Hill, and had been advised to ride by the doctor. Mary also -rode--on a donkey only, it is true--but Sir Louis found himself bound in -gallantry to accompany her. Mary's steed had answered every -expectations, and proved himself very quiet; so quiet, that without the -admonition of a cudgel behind him, he could hardly be persuaded into -the demurest trot. Now, as Sir Louis's horse was of a very different -mettle, he found it rather difficult not to step faster than his -inamorata; and, let it him struggle as he would, was generally so far -ahead as to be debarred the delights of conversation. - -When the second time he proposed to accompany her, Mary did what she -could to hinder it. She saw that he had been rather ashamed of the -manner in which his companion was mounted, and she herself would have -enjoyed the ride much more without him. He was an invalid, however; it -was necessary to make much of him, and Mary did not absolutely refuse -the offer. - -'Lady Scatcherd,' said he, as they were standing at the door previous -to mounting--he always called his mother Lady Scatcherd--'why don't you -take a horse for Miss Thorne? This donkey is--is--really is, so -very--very--can't go at all, you know?' - -Lady Scatcherd began to declare that she would willing have got a pony -if Mary would have let her do it. - -'Oh, no, Lady Scatcherd; not on any account. I do like the donkey so -much--I do indeed.' - -'But he won't go,' said Sir Louis. 'And for a person who rides like -you, Miss Thorne--such a horsewoman you know--why, you know, Lady -Scatcherd, it's positively ridiculous; d---- absurd, you know.' - -And then, with an angry look at his mother, he mounted his horse, and -was soon leading the way down the avenue. - -'Miss Thorne,' said he, pulling himself up at the gate, 'if I had known -that I was to be so extremely happy as to have found you here, I would -have brought you down the most beautiful creature, and Arab. She -belongs to my friend Jenkins; but I wouldn't have stood at any price in -getting her for you. By Jove! if you were on that mare, I'd back you, -for style and appearance, against anything in Hyde Park.' - -The offer of this sporting wager, which naturally would have been very -gratifying to Mary, was lost upon her, for Sir Louis had again -unwittingly got on in advance, but he stopped himself in time to hear -Mary again declare her passion was a donkey. - -'If you could only see Jenkins's little mare, Miss Thorne! Only say -one word, and she shall be down here before the week's end. Price -shall be no obstacle--none whatever. By Jove, what a pair you would -be!' - -This generous offer was repeated four or five times; but on each -occasion Mary only half heard what was said, and on each occasion the -baronet was far too much in advance to hear Mary's reply. At last he -recollected that he wanted to call on one of his tenants, and begged -his companion to allow him to ride on. - -'If you at all dislike being alone, you know--' - -'Oh dear no, not at all, Sir Louis. I am quite used to it.' - -'Because I don't care about it, you know; only I can't make this horse -of walk the same pace as that brute.' - -'You mustn't abuse my pet, Sir Louis.' - -'It's a d--- shame on my mother's part;' said Sir Louis, who, even when -in his best behaviour, could not quite give up his ordinary mode of -conversation. 'When she was fortunate enough to get such a girl as you -to come and stay with her, she ought to have had something proper for -her to ride upon; but I'll look to it as soon as I am a little -stronger, you see if I don't;' and, so saying, Sir Louis trotted off, -leaving Mary in peace with her donkey. - -Sir Louis had now been living cleanly and forswearing sack for what was -to him a very long period, and his health felt the good effects of it. -No one rejoiced at this more cordially than did the doctor. To rejoice -at it was with him a point of conscience. He could not help telling -himself now and again that, circumstanced as he was, he was most -specially bound to take joy in any sign of reformation that the baronet -might show. Not to do so would be almost tantamount to wishing that he -might die in order that Mary might inherit his wealth; and, therefore, -the doctor did with all his energy devote himself to the difficult task -of hoping and striving that Sir Louis might yet live to enjoy what was -his own. But the task was altogether a difficult one, for as Sir Louis -became stronger in health, so also did he become more exorbitant in his -demands on the doctor's patience, and more repugnant to the doctor's -tastes. - -In his worst fits of disreputable living he was ashamed to apply to his -guardian for money; and in his worst fits of illness he was through -fear, somewhat patient under his doctor's hands; but just at present he -had nothing of which to be ashamed, and was not at all patient. - -'Doctor,'--said he, one day, at Boxall Hill--'how about those -Greshamsbury title-deeds?' - -'Oh, that will all be properly settled between my lawyer and your own.' - -'Oh--ah--yes; no doubt the lawyers will settle it; settle it with a fine -bill of costs. But, as Finnie says,'--Finnie was Sir Louis's legal -adviser--'I have got a tremendously large interest at stake in this -matter; eighty thousand pounds is no joke. It ain't everybody that can -shell out eighty thousand pounds when they're wanted; and I should like -to know how the thing's going on. I've a right to ask, you know; eh, -doctor?' - -'The title-deeds of a large portion of Greshamsbury estate will be -placed with the mortgage-deeds before the end of next month.' - -'Oh, that's all right. I choose to know about these things; for though -my father did make such a con-foun-ded will, that's no reason I -shouldn't know how things are going.' - -'You shall know everything that I know, Sir Louis.' - -'And now, doctor, what are we to do about money?' - -'About money?' - -'Yes; money, rhino, ready! "put money in your purse and cut a dash"; -eh, doctor? Not that I want to cut a dash. No, I'm going on the -quiet line altogether now: I've done with that sort of thing.' - -'I'm heartily glad of it; heartily,' said the doctor. - -'Yes, I'm not going to make way for my far-away cousin yet; not if I -know it, at least. I shall soon be all right now, doctor; shan't I?' - -'"All right" is a long word, Sir Louis. But I do hope you will be all -right in time, if you will live with decent prudence. You shouldn't -take that filth in the morning though.' - -'Filth in the morning! That's my mother, I suppose! That's her -ladyship! She's been talking, has she? Don't you believe her, -doctor. There's not a young man in Barsetshire is going more regular, -all right within the posts, than I am.' - -The doctor was obliged to acknowledge that there did seem to be some -improvement. - -'And now, doctor, how about money, eh?' - -Doctor Thorne, like other guardians similarly circumstanced, began to -explain that Sir Louis had already had a good deal of money, and had -begun also to promise that more should be forthcoming in the event of -good behaviour, when he was somewhat suddenly interrupted by Sir Louis. - -'Well, now; I'll tell you what, doctor; I've got a bit of news for you; -something that I think will astonish you.' - -The doctor opened his eyes, and tried to look as though ready to be -surprised. - -'Something that will really make you look about; and something, too, -that will be very much to the hearer's advantage,--as the newspaper -advertisements say.' - -'Something to my advantage?' said the doctor. - -'Well, I hope you'll think so. Doctor, what would you think now of my -getting married?' - -'I should be delighted to hear of it--more delighted than I can express; -that is, of course, if you were to marry well. It was your father's -most eager wish that you should marry early.' - -'That's partly my reason,' said the young hypocrite. 'But then if I -marry I must have an income fit to live on; eh, doctor?' - -The doctor had some fear that his interesting protege was desirous of a -wife for the sake of the income, instead of desiring the income for the -sake of the wife. But let the cause be what it would, marriage would -probably be good for him; and he had no hesitation, therefore, in -telling him, that if he married well, he should be put in possession of -sufficient income to maintain the new Lady Scatcherd in a manner -becoming her dignity. - -'As to marrying well,' said Sir Louis, 'you, I take it, will the be the -last man, doctor, to quarrel with my choice.' - -'Will I?' said the doctor, smiling. - -'Well, you won't disapprove, I guess, as the Yankee says. What would -you think of Miss Mary Thorne?' - -It must be said in Sir Louis's favour that he had probably no idea -whatever of the estimation in which such young ladies as Mary Thorne -are held by those who are nearest and dearest to them. He had no sort -of conception that she was regarded by her uncle and inestimable -treasure, almost too precious to be rendered up to the arms of any man; -and infinitely beyond any price in silver and gold, baronet's incomes -of eight or ten thousand a year, and such coins usually current in the -world's markets. He was a rich man and a baronet, and Mary was an -unmarried girl without a portion. In Louis's estimation he was -offering everything, and asking for nothing. He certainly had some -idea that girls were apt to be coy, and required a little wooing in the -shape of presents, civil speeches--perhaps kisses also. The civil -speeches he had, he thought, done, and imagined that they had been well -received. The other things were to follow; an Arab pony, for -instance--and the kisses probably with it; and then all these -difficulties would be smoothed. - -But he did not for a moment conceive that there would be any difficulty -with the uncle. How should there be? Was he not a baronet with ten -thousand a year coming to him? Had he not everything which fathers -want for portionless daughters, and uncles for dependant nieces? Might -he not well inform the doctor that he had something to tell him for his -advantage? - -And yet, to tell the truth, the doctor did not seem to be overjoyed -when the announcement was first made to him. He was by no means -overjoyed. On the contrary, even Sir Louis could perceive his -guardian's surprise was altogether unmixed with delight. - -What a question was this that was asked him! What would he think of a -marriage between Mary Thorne--his Mary and Sir Louis Scatcherd? Between -the alpha of the whole alphabet, and him whom he could not but regard -as the omega! Think of it! Why he would think of it as though a lamb -and a wolf were to stand at the altar together. Had Sir Louis been a -Hottentot, or an Esquimaux, the proposal could not have astonished him -more. The two persons were so totally of a different class, that the -idea of the one falling in love with the other had never occurred to -him. 'What would you think of Miss Mary Thorne?' Sir Louis had asked; -and the doctor, instead of answering him with ready and pleasant -alacrity, stood silent, thunderstruck with amazement. - -'Well, wouldn't she be a good wife?' said Sir Louis, rather in a tone -of disgust at the evident disapproval shown in his choice. 'I thought -you would have been so delighted.' - -'Mary Thorne!' ejaculated the doctor at last. 'Have you spoken to my -niece about this, Sir Louis?' - -'Well, I have and yet I haven't; I haven't, and yet in a manner I -have.' - -'I don't understand you,' said the doctor. - -'Why, you see, I haven't exactly popped to her yet; but I have been -doing the civil; and if she's up to snuff, as I take her to be, she -knows very well what I'm after by this time.' - -Up to snuff! Mary Thorne, his Mary Thorne, up to snuff! To snuff too -of such a very disagreeable description! - -'I think, Sir Louis, that you are in mistake about this. I think you -will find that Mary will not be disposed to avail herself of the great -advantages--for great they undoubtedly are--which you are able to offer -to your intended wife. If you will take my advice, you will give up -thinking of Mary. She would not suit you.' - -'Not suit me! Oh, but I think she just would. She's got no money, you -mean?' - -'No, I did not mean that. It will not signify to you whether your wife -has money or not. You need not look for money. But you should think -of some one more nearly of your temperament. I am quite sure that my -niece would refuse you.' - -These last words the doctor uttered with much emphasis. His intention -was to make the baronet understand that the matter was quite hopeless, -and to induce him if possible to drop it on the spot. But he did not -know Sir Louis; he ranked him too low in the scale of human beings, and -gave him no credit for any strength of character. Sir Louis in his way -did love Mary Thorne. And could not bring himself to believe that Mary -did not, or at any rate, would not soon return his passion. He was, -moreover, sufficiently obstinate, firm we ought perhaps to say--for his -pursuit in this case was certainly not an evil one,--and he at once made -up his mind to succeed in spite of the uncle. - -'If she consents, however, you will do so too?' asked he. - -'It is impossible that she should consent,' said the doctor. - -'Impossible! I don't see anything at all impossible. But if she -does?' - -'But she won't.' - -'Very well,--that's to be seen. But just tell me this, if she does, -will you consent?' - -'The stars would fall first. It's all nonsense. Give it up, my dear -friend; believe me you are only preparing unhappiness for yourself;' -and the doctor put his hand kindly on the young man's arm. 'She will -not, cannot, accept such an offer.' - -'Will not! cannot!' said the baronet, thinking over all the reasons -which in his estimation could possibly be inducing the doctor to be so -hostile to his views, and shaking the hand of his arm. 'Will not! -cannot! But come, doctor, answer my question fairly. If she'll have -me for better or worse, you won't say aught against it; will you?' - -'But she won't have you; why should you give her and yourself the pain -of a refusal?' - -'Oh, as for that, I must stand my chance like another. And as for her, -why d---, doctor, you wouldn't have me believe that any young lady -thinks it so very dreadful to have a baronet with ten thousand pounds a -year at her feet, specially when that same baronet ain't very old, nor -yet particularly ugly. I ain't so green as that, doctor.' - -'I suppose she must go through with it, then,' said the doctor, musing. - -'But, Dr Thorne, I did look for a kinder answer from you, considering -all that you so often say about your great friendship with my father. I -did think you'd at any rate answer me when I asked you a question.' - -But the doctor did not want to answer that special question. Could it -be possible that Mary should wish to marry this odious man, could such -a state of things be imagined to be the case, he would not refuse his -consent, infinitely as he would be disgusted by her choice. But he -would not give Sir Louis any excuse of telling Mary that her uncle -approved of so odious a match. - -'I cannot say that in case I would approve of such a marriage, Sir -Louis. I cannot bring myself to say so; for I know it would make you -both miserable. But on that matter my niece will choose wholly for -herself.' - -'And about money, doctor?' - -'If you marry a decent woman you shall not want the means of supporting -her decently,' and so saying the doctor walked away, leaving Sir Louis -to his meditations. - - - -CHAPTER XXIX - -THE DONKEY RIDE - -Sir Louis, when left to himself, was slightly dismayed and somewhat -discouraged; but he was not induced to give up his object. The first -effort of his mind was made in conjecturing what private motive Dr -Thorne could possibly have in wishing to debar his niece from marrying -a rich young baronet. That the objection was personal to himself, Sir -Louis did not for a moment imagine. Could it be that the doctor did -not wish that his niece should be richer, and grander, and altogether -bigger than himself? Or was it possible that his guardian was anxious -to prevent him from marrying from some view of the reversion of the -large fortune? That there was some such reason, Sir Louis was well -sure; but let it be what it might, he would get the better of the -doctor. 'He knew so,' so he said to himself, 'what stuff girls were -made of. Baronets did not grow like blackberries.' And so, assuring -himself with such philosophy, he determined to make his offer. - -The time he selected for doing this was the hour before dinner; but on -the day on which his conversation with the doctor had taken place, he -was deterred by the presence of a strange visitor. To account for this -strange visit it will be necessary that we should return to -Greshamsbury for a few minutes. - -Frank, when he returned home for his summer vacation, found that Mary -had again flown; and the very fact of her absence added fuel to the -fire of his love, more perhaps then even her presence might have done. -For the flight of the quarry ever adds eagerness to the pursuit of the -huntsman. Lady Arabella, moreover, had a bitter enemy; a foe, utterly -opposed to her side in the contest, where she had once fondly looked -for her staunchest ally. Frank was now in the habit of corresponding -with Miss Dunstable, and received from her most energetic admonitions -to be true to the love which he had sworn. True to it he resolved to -be; and, therefore, when he found that Mary was flown, he resolved to -fly after her. - -He did not, however, do this till he had been in a measure provoked by -it by the sharp-tongued cautions and blunted irony of his mother. It -was not enough for her that she had banished Mary out of the parish, -and made Dr Thorne's life miserable; not enough that she harassed her -husband with harangues on the constant subject of Frank's marrying -money, and dismayed Beatrice with invectives against the iniquity of -her friend. The snake was so but scotched; to kill it outright she -must induce Frank utterly to renounce Miss Thorne. - -This task she essayed, but not exactly with success. 'Well, mother,' -said Frank, at last turning very red, partly with shame, and partly -with indignation, as he made the frank avowal, 'since you press me -about it, I tell you fairly that my mind is made up to marry Mary -sooner or later, if--' - -'Oh, Frank! good heavens! you wicked boy; you are saying this -purposely to drive me distracted.' - -'If,' continued Frank, not attending to his mother's interjections, 'if -she will consent.' - -'Consent!' said Lady Arabella. 'Oh, heavens!' and falling into the -corner of her sofa, she buried her face in her handkerchief. - -'Yes, mother, if she will consent. And now that I have told you so -much, it is only just that I should tell you this also; that as far as -I can see at present I have no reason to hope that she will do so.' - -'Oh, Frank, the girl is doing all she can to catch you,' said Lady -Arabella,--not prudently. - -'No, mother; there you wrong her altogether; wrong her most cruelly.' - -'You ungracious, wicked boy! you call me cruel!' - -'I don't call you cruel; but you wrong her cruelly, most cruelly. When -I have spoken to her about this--for I have spoken to her--she has -behaved exactly as you would have wanted her to do; but not at all as I -wished her. She has given me no encouragement. You have turned her -out among you'--Frank was beginning to be very bitter now--'but she has -done nothing to deserve it. If there has been any fault it has been -mine. But it is well now that we should understand each other. My -intention is to marry Mary if I can.' And, so speaking, certainly -without due filial respect, he turned towards the door. - -'Frank,' said his mother, raising herself up with energy to make one -last appeal. 'Frank, do you wish to see me die of a broken heart?' - -'You know, mother, I would wish to make you happy, if I could.' - -'If you wish to see me ever happy again, if you do not wish to see me -sink broken-hearted to my grave, you must give up this mad idea, -Frank,'--and now all Lady Arabella's energy came out. 'Frank there is -but one course left open to you. You MUST marry money.' And then Lady -Arabella stood up before her son as Lady Macbeth might have stood, had -Lady Macbeth lived to have a son of Frank's years. - -'Miss Dunstable, I suppose,' said Frank, scornfully. 'No, mother; I -made an ass and worse than an ass of myself once in that way, and I -won't do it again. I hate money.' - -'Oh, Frank!' - -'I hate money.' - -'But, Frank, the estate?' - -'I hate the estate--at least I shall hate it if I am expected to buy it -at such a price as that. The estate is my father's.' - -'Oh, no, Frank; it is not.' - -'It is in the sense I mean. He may do with it as he pleases; he will -never have a word of complaint from me. I am ready to go into a -profession to-morrow. I'll be a lawyer, or a doctor, or an engineer; I -don't care what.' Frank, in his enthusiasm, probably overlooked some of -the preliminary difficulties. 'Or I'll take a farm under him, and earn -my bread that way; but, mother, don't talk to me any more about -marrying money.' And, so saying, Frank left the room. - -Frank, it will be remembered, was twenty-one when he was first -introduced to the reader; he is now twenty-two. It may be said that -there was a great difference between his character then and now. A -year at that period will make a great difference; but the change has -been, not in his character, but in his feelings. - -Frank went out from his mother and immediately ordered his black horse -to be got ready for him. He would at once go over to Boxall Hill. He -went himself to the stables to give his orders; and as he returned to -get his gloves and whip he met Beatrice in the corridor. - -'Beatrice,' said he, 'step in here,' and she followed him into his -room. 'I'm not going to bear this any longer; I'm going to Boxall -Hill.' - -'Oh, Frank! how can you be so imprudent?' - -'You, at any rate, have some decent feeling for Mary. I believe you -have some regard for her; and therefore I tell you. Will you send her -any message?' - -'Oh, yes; my best, best love; that is if you will see her; but, Frank, -you are very foolish, very; and she will be infinitely distressed.' - -'Do not mention this, not at present; not that I mean you to make any -secret of it. I shall tell my father everything. I'm off now!' and -then, paying no attention to her remonstrance, he turned down the -stairs and was soon on horseback. - -He took the road to Boxall Hill, but he did not ride very fast: he did -not go jauntily as a jolly, thriving wooer; but musingly, and often -with diffidence, meditating every now and then whether it would not be -better for him to turn back: to turn back--but not from fear of his -mother; not from prudential motives; not because that often-repeated -lesson as to marrying money was beginning to take effect; not from such -causes as these; but because he doubted how he might be received by -Mary. - -He did, it is true, think something about his worldly prospects. He -had talked rather grandiloquently to his mother as to his hating money, -and hating the estate. His mother's never-ceasing worldly cares on -such subjects perhaps demanded that a little grandiloquence should be -opposed to them. But Frank did not hate the estate; nor did he at all -hate the position of an English country gentleman. Miss Dunstable's -eloquence, however, rang in his ears. For Miss Dunstable had an -eloquence of her own, even in her letters. 'Never let them talk you -out of your own true, honest, hearty feelings,' she had said. -'Greshamsbury is a very nice place, I am sure; and I hope I shall see -it some day; but all its green knolls are not half so nice, should not -be half so precious, as the pulses of your own heart. That is your own -estate, your own, your very own--your own and another's; whatever may go -to the money-lenders, don't send that there. Don't mortgage that, Mr -Gresham.' - -'No,' said Frank, pluckily, as he put his horse into a faster trot, 'I -won't mortgage that. They may do what they like with the estate; but -my heart's my own,' and so speaking to himself, almost aloud, he turned -a corner of the road rapidly and came at once upon the doctor. - -'Hallo, doctor! is that you?' said Frank, rather disgusted. - -'What! Frank! I hardly expected to meet you here,' said Dr Thorne, -not much better pleased. - -They were now not above a mile from Boxall Hill, and the doctor, -therefore, could not but surmise whither Frank was going. They had -repeatedly met since Frank's return from Cambridge, both in the village -and in the doctor's house; but not a word had been said between them -about Mary beyond what the merest courtesy had required. Not that each -did not love the other sufficiently to make a full confidence between -them desirable to both; but neither had had the courage to speak out. - -Nor had either of them the courage to do so now. 'Yes,' said Frank, -blushing, 'I am going to Lady Scatcherd's. Shall I find the ladies at -home?' - -'Yes; Lady Scatcherd is there; but Sir Louis is there also--an invalid: -perhaps you would not wish to meet him.' - -'Oh! I don't mind,' said Frank, trying to laugh; 'he won't bite, I -suppose?' - -The doctor longed in his heart to pray to Frank to return with him; not -to go and make further mischief; not to do that which might cause a -more bitter estrangement between himself and the squire. But he had -not the courage to do it. He could not bring himself to accuse Frank -of being in love with his niece. So after a few more senseless words on -either side, words which each knew to be senseless as he uttered them, -they both rode on their own ways. - -And then the doctor silently, and almost unconsciously, made such a -comparison between Louis Scatcherd and Frank Gresham as Hamlet made -between the dead and live king. It was Hyperion to a satyr. Was it -not as impossible that Mary should not love the one, as that she should -love the other? Frank's offer of his affections had at first probably -been but a boyish ebullition of feeling; but if it should now be, that -this had grown into a manly and disinterested love, how could Mary -remain unmoved? What could her heart want more, better, more -beautiful, more rich than such a love as this? Was he not personally -all that a girl could like? Were not his disposition, mind, character, -acquirements, all such as women most delight to love? Was it not -impossible that Mary should be indifferent to him? - -So meditated the doctor as he road along, with only too true a -knowledge of human nature. Ah! it was impossible, quite impossible -that Mary should be indifferent. She had never been indifferent since -Frank had uttered his first half-joking word of love. Such things are -more important to women than they are to men, to girls than they are to -boys. When Frank had first told her that he loved her; aye, months -before that, when he merely looked his love, her heart had received the -whisper, had acknowledged the glance, unconscious as she was herself, -and resolved as she was to rebuke his advances. When, in her hearing, -he had said soft nothings to Patience Oriel, a hated, irrepressible -tear had gathered in her eye. When he had pressed in his warm, loving -grasp the hand which she had offered in him in token of mere -friendship, her heart had forgiven him the treachery, nay, almost -thanked him for it, before her eyes or her words had been ready to -rebuke him. When the rumour of his liaison with Miss Dunstable reached -her ears, when she heard of Miss Dunstable's fortune, she had wept, -wept outright, in her chamber--wept, as she said to herself, to think -that he could be so mercenary; but she had wept, as she should have -said to herself, at finding that he was so faithless. Then, when she -knew at last that this rumour was false, when she found that she was -banished from Greshamsbury for his sake, when she was forced to retreat -with her friend Patience, how could she but love him, in that he was -not mercenary? How could she not love him in that was so faithful? - -It was impossible that she should not love him. Was he not the -brightest and the best of men that she had ever seen, or was like to -see?--that she could possibly ever see, she would have said to herself, -could she have brought herself to own the truth? And then, when she -heard how true he was, how he persisted against father, mother, and -sisters, how could it be that that should not be a merit in her eyes -which was so great a fault in theirs? When Beatrice, with would-be -solemn face, but with eyes beaming with feminine affection, would -gravely talk of Frank's tender love as a terrible misfortune, as a -misfortune to them all, to Mary herself as well as others, how could -Mary do other than love him? 'Beatrice is his sister,' she would say -within her own mind, 'otherwise she would never talk like this; were -she not his sister, she could not but know the value of such love as -this.' Ah! yes; Mary did love him; love him with all the strength of -her heart; and the strength of her heart was very great. And now by -degrees, in those lonely donkey-rides at Boxall Hill, in those solitary -walks, she was beginning to own to herself the truth. - -And now that she did own it, what should be her course? What should -she do, how should she act if this loved one persevered in his love? -And, ah! what should she do, how should she act if he did not -persevere? Could it be that there should be happiness in store for -her? Was it not too clear that, let the matter go how it would, there -was no happiness in store for her? Much as she might love Frank -Gresham, she could never consent to be his wife unless the squire would -smile on her as his daughter-in-law. The squire had been all that was -kind, all that was affectionate. And then, too, Lady Arabella! As she -thought of the Lady Arabella a sterner form of thought came across her -brow. Why should Lady Arabella rob her of her heart's joy? What was -Lady Arabella that she, Mary Thorne, need quail before her? Had Lady -Arabella stood only in her way, Lady Arabella, flanked by the De Courcy -legion, Mary felt that she could have demanded Frank's hand as her own -before them all without a blush of shame or a moment's hesitation. -Thus, when her heart was all but ready to collapse within her, would -she gain some little strength by thinking of the Lady Arabella. - -'Please, my lady, here be young squire Gresham,' said one of the -untutored servants at Boxall Hill, opening Lady Scatcherd's little -parlour door as her ladyship was amusing herself by pulling down and -turning, and re-folding, and putting up again, a heap of household -linen which was kept in a huge press for the express purpose of -supplying her with occupation. - -Lady Scatcherd, holding a vast counterpane in her arms, looked back -over her shoulders and perceived that Frank was in the room. Down went -the counterpane on the ground, and Frank soon found himself in the very -position which that useful article had so lately filled. - -'Oh! Master Frank! oh, Master Frank!' said her ladyship, almost in an -hysterical fit of joy; and then she hugged and kissed him as she had -never kissed and hugged her own son since that son had first left the -parent nest. - -Frank bore it patiently and with a merry laugh. 'But, Lady Scatcherd,' -said he, 'what will they all say? you forget I am a man now,' and he -stooped his head as she again pressed her lips upon his forehead. - -'I don't care what none of 'em say,' said her ladyship, quite going -back to her old days; 'I will kiss my own boy; so I will. Eh, but -Master Frank, this is good on you. A sight of you is good for sore -eyes; and my eyes have been sore enough since I saw you;' and she put -her apron up to wipe a tear away. - -'Yes,' said Frank, gently trying to disengage himself, but not -successfully: 'yes, you have had a great loss, Lady Scatcherd. I was so -sorry when I heard of your grief.' - -'You always had a soft, kind heart, Master Frank; so you had. God's -blessing on you! What a fine man you have grown! Deary me! Well, it -seems as though it were only just t'other day like.' And she pushed -him a little from her, so that she might look the better into his face. - -'Well. Is it all right? I suppose you would hardly know me again now -I've got a pair of whiskers?' - -'Know you! I should know you well if I saw but the heel of your foot. -Why, what a head of hair you have got, and so dark too! but it doesn't -curl as it used once.' And she stroked his hair, and looked into his -eyes, and put her hand to his cheeks. 'You'll think me an old fool, -Master Frank: I know that; but you may think what you like. If I live -for the next twenty years you'll always be my own boy; so you will.' - -By degrees, slow degrees, Frank managed to change the conversation, and -to induce Lady Scatcherd to speak on some other topic than his own -infantine perfections. He affected an indifference as he spoke of her -guest, which would have deceived no one but Lady Scatcherd; but her it -did deceive; and then he asked where Mary was. - -'She's just gone out on her donkey--somewhere about the place. She rides -on a donkey mostly every day. But you'll stop and take a bit of dinner -with us? Eh, now do'ee, Master Frank.' - -But Master Frank excused himself. He did not choose to pledge himself -to sit down to dinner with Mary. He did not know in what mood they -might return with regard to each other at dinner-time. He said, -therefore, that he would return to the house again before he went. - -Lady Scatcherd then began making apologies for Sir Louis. She was an -invalid; the doctor had been with him all the morning, and he was not -yet out of his room. - -These apologies Frank willingly accepted, and then made his way as his -could on to the lawn. A gardener, of whom he inquired, offered to go -with him in pursuit of Miss Thorne. This assistance, however, he -declined, and set forth in quest of her, having learnt what were her -most usual haunts. Nor was he directed wrongly; for after walking -about twenty minutes, he saw through the trees the legs of a donkey -moving on the green-sward, at about two hundred yards from him. On -that donkey doubtless sat Mary Thorne. - -The donkey was coming towards him; not exactly in a straight line, but -so much so as to make it impossible that Mary should not see him if he -stood still. He did stand still, and soon emerging from the trees, -Mary saw him all but close to her. - -Her heart gave a leap within her, but she was so far mistress of -herself as to repress any visible sign of outward emotion. She did not -fall from her donkey, or scream, or burst into tears. She merely -uttered the words, 'Mr Gresham!' in a tone of not unnatural surprise. - -'Yes,' said he, trying to laugh, but less successful than she had been -suppressing a show of feeling. 'Mr Gresham! I have come over at last -to pay my respects to you. You must have thought me very uncourteous -not to do so before.' - -This she denied. She had not, she said, thought him at all uncivil. -She had come to Boxall Hill to be out of the way; and, of course, had -not expected any such formalities. As she uttered this she almost -blushed at the abrupt truth of what she was saying. But she was taken -so much unawares that she did not know how to make the truth other than -abrupt. - -'To be out of the way!' said Frank. 'And why should you want to be out -of the way?' - -'Oh! there were reasons,'said she, laughing. 'Perhaps I have -quarrelled dreadfully with my uncle.' - -Frank at the present moment had not about him a scrap of badinage. He -had not a single easy word at his command. He could not answer her -with anything in guise of a joke; so he walked on, not answering at -all. - -'I hope all my friends at Greshamsbury are well,' said Mary. 'Is -Beatrice quite well?' - -'Quite well,' said he. - -'And Patience?' - -'What, Miss Oriel; yes, I believe so. I haven't seen her this day or -two.' How was it that Mary felt a little flush of joy, as Frank spoke -in this indifferent way about Miss Oriel's health? - -'I thought she was always a particular friend of yours,' said she. - -'What! who? Miss Oriel? So she is! I like her amazingly; so does -Beatrice.' And then he walked about six steps in silence, plucking up -courage for the great attempt. He did pluck up his courage and then -rushed at once to the attack. - -'Mary!' said he, and as he spoke he put his hand on the donkey's neck, -and looked tenderly into her face. He looked tenderly, and, as Mary's -ear at once told her, his voice sounded more soft than it had ever -sounded before. 'Mary, do you remember the last time that we were -together?' - -Mary did remember it well. It was on that occasion when he had -treacherously held her hand; on that day when, according to law, he had -become a man; when he had outraged all the propriety of the De Courcy -interest by offering his love to Mary in Augusta's hearing. Mary did -remember it well; but how was she to speak of it? 'It was your -birthday, I think,' said she. - -'Yes, it was my birthday. I wonder whether you remember what I said to -you then?' - -'I remember that you were very foolish, Mr Gresham.' - -'Mary, I have come to repeat my folly;--that is, if it be folly. I told -you then that I loved you, and I dare say that I did it awkwardly, like -a boy. Perhaps I may be just as awkward now; but you ought at any rate -to believe me when you find that a year has not altered me.' - -Mary did not think him at all awkward, and she did believe him. But how -was she to answer him? She had not yet taught herself what answer she -ought to make if he persisted in his suit. She had hitherto been -content to run away from him; but she had done so because she would not -submit to be accused of the indelicacy of putting herself in his way. -She had rebuked him when he first spoke of his love; but she had done -so because she looked on what he said as a boy's nonsense. She had -schooled herself in obedience to the Greshamsbury doctrines. Was there -any real reason, any reason founded on truth and honesty, why she -should not be a fitting wife to Frank Gresham,--Francis Newbold Gresham, -of Greshamsbury, though he was, or was to be?' - -He was well born--as well born as any gentleman in England. She was -basely born--as basely born as any lady could be. Was this sufficient -bar against such a match? Mary felt in her heart that some twelvemonth -since, before she knew what little she did now know of her own story, -she would have said it was so. And would she indulge her own love by -inveigling him she loved into a base marriage? But then reason spoke -again. What, after all, was this blood of which she had taught herself -to think so much? Would she have been more honest, more fit to grace -an honest man's hearthstone, had she been the legitimate descendant of -a score of legitimate duchesses? Was it not her first duty to think of -him--of what would make him happy? Then of her uncle--what he would -approve? Then of herself--what would best become her modesty; her sense -of honour? Could it be well that she should sacrifice the happiness of -two persons to a theoretic love of pure blood? - -So she had argued within herself. Not now, sitting on the donkey, with -Frank's hand before her on the tame brute's neck; but on other former -occasions as she had ridden along demurely among those trees. So she -had argued; but she had never brought her arguments to a decision. All -manner of thoughts crowded on her to prevent her doing so. She would -think of the squire, and resolve to reject Frank; and would then -remember Lady Arabella, and resolve to accept him. Her resolutions, -however, were most irresolute; and so, when Frank appeared in person -before her, carrying his heart in his hand, she did not know what -answer to make to him. Thus it was with her as with so many other -maidens similarly circumstanced; at last she left it all to chance. - -'You ought at any rate, to believe me,' said Frank, 'when you find that -a year has not altered me.' - -'A year should have taught you to be wiser,'said she. 'You should have -learnt by this time, Mr Gresham, that your lot and mine are not cast in -the same mould; that our stations in life are different. Would your -father or mother approve of your even coming here to see me?' - -Mary, as she spoke these sensible words, felt that they were 'flat, -stale, and unprofitable.' She felt also, that they were not true in -sense; that they did not come from her heart; that they were not such -as Frank deserved at her hands, and she was ashamed of herself. - -'My father I hope will approve of it,' said he. 'That my mother should -disapprove of it is a misfortune which I cannot help; but on this point -I will take no answer from my father or mother; the question is one too -personal to myself. Mary, if you say that you will not, or cannot return -my love, I will go away;--not from here only, but from Greshamsbury. My -presence shall not banish you from all that you hold dear. If you can -honestly say that I am nothing to you, can be nothing to you, I will -then tell my mother that she may be at ease, and I will go away -somewhere and get over it as I may.' The poor fellow got so far, looking -apparently at the donkey's ears, with hardly a gasp of hope in his -voice, and he so far carried Mary with him that she also had hardly a -gasp of hope in her heart. There he paused for a moment, and then -looking up into her face, he spoke but one word more. 'But,' said -he--and there he stopped. It was clearly told in that 'but'. Thus would -he do if Mary would declare that she did not care for him. If, however, -she could not bring herself so to declare, then was he ready to throw -his father and mother to the winds; then would he stand his ground; then -would he look all other difficulties in the face, sure that they might -finally be overcome. Poor Mary! the whole onus of settling the matter -was thus thrown upon her. She had only to say that he was indifferent to -her;--that was all. - -If 'all the blood of the Howards' had depended upon it, she could not -have brought herself to utter such a falsehood. Indifferent to her, as -he walked there by her donkey's side, talking thus earnestly of his -love for her! Was he not to her like some god come from the heavens to -make her blessed? Did not the sun shine upon him with a halo, so that -he was bright as an angel? Indifferent to her! Could the open -unadulterated truth have been practicable for her, she would have -declared her indifference in terms that would truly have astonished -him. As it was, she found it easier to say nothing. She bit her lips -to keep herself from sobbing. She struggled hard, but in vain, to -prevent her hands and feet from trembling. She seemed to swing upon -her donkey as though like to fall, and would have given much to be upon -her own feet in the sward. - -'Si la jeunesse savait . . .' There is so much in that wicked old -French proverb! Had Frank known more about a woman's mind--had he, that -is, been forty-two instead of twenty-two he would at once have been -sure of his game, and have felt that Mary's silence told him all he -wished to know. But then, had been forty-two instead of twenty-two, he -would not have been so ready to risk the acres of Greshamsbury for the -smiles of Mary Thorne. - -'If you can't say one word to comfort me, I will go,' said he, -disconsolately. 'I made up my mind to tell you this, and so I came -over. I told Lady Scatcherd I should not stay--not even for dinner.' - -'I did not know you were so hurried,' said she, almost in a whisper. - -On a sudden he stood still, and pulling the donkey's rein, caused him -to stand still also. The beast required very little persuasion to be -so guided, and obligingly remained meekly passive. - -'Mary, Mary!' said Frank, throwing his arms round her knees as she sat -upon her steed, and pressing his face against her body. 'Mary, you were -always honest; be honest now. I love you with all my heart. Will you -be my wife?' - -But still Mary said not a word. She no longer bit her lips; she was -beyond that, and was now using all her efforts to prevent her tears -from falling absolutely on her lover's face. She said nothing. She -could no more rebuke him now and send him from her than she could -encourage him. She could only sit there shaking and crying and wishing -she was on the ground. Frank, on the whole, rather liked the donkey. -It enabled him to approach somewhat nearer to an embrace than he might -have found practicable had they both been on their feet. The donkey -himself was quite at his ease, and looked as though he was approvingly -conscious of what was going on behind his ears. - -'I have a right to a word, Mary; say, "Go", and I will leave you at -once.' - -But Mary did not say 'Go'. Perhaps she would have done so had she been -able; but just at present she could say nothing. This came from her -having failed to make up her mind in due time as to what course it -would best become her to follow. - -'One word, Mary; one little word. There, if you will not speak, here -is my hand. If you will have it, let it lie in yours;--if not, push it -away.' So saying, he managed to get the end of his fingers on to her -palm, and there it remained unrepulsed. 'La jeuness' was beginning to -get a lesson; experience when duly sought after sometimes comes early -in life. - -In truth Mary had not strength to push the fingers away. 'My love, my -own, my own!' said Frank, presuming on this very negative sign of -acquiescence. 'My life, my own, my own Mary!' and then the hand was -caught hold of and was at his lips before an effort could be made to -save it from such treatment. - -'Mary, look at me; say one word to me.' - -There was a deep sigh, and then came the one word--'Oh, Frank!' - -'Mr Gresham, I hope I have the honour of seeing you quite well,' said a -voice close to his ear. 'I beg to say that you are welcome to Boxall -Hill.' Frank turned round and instantly found himself shaking hands -with Sir Louis Scatcherd. - -How Mary got over her confusion Frank never saw, for he had enough to -do to get over his own. He involuntarily deserted Mary and began -talking very fast to Sir Louis. Sir Louis did not once look at Miss -Thorne, but walked back towards the house with Mr Gresham, sulky enough -in temper, but still making some effort to do the fine gentleman. Mary, -glad to be left alone, merely occupied herself with sitting on the -donkey; and the donkey, when he found that the two gentlemen went -towards the house, for company's sake and for his stable's sake, -followed after them. - -Frank stayed but three minutes in the house; gave another kiss to Lady -Scatcherd, getting three in return, and thereby infinitely disgusting -Sir Louis, shook hands, anything but warmly, with the young baronet, -and just felt the warmth of Mary's hand within his own. He felt also -the warmth of her eyes' last glance, and rode home a happy man. - - - -CHAPTER XXX - -POST PRANDIAL - -Frank rode home a happy man, cheering himself, as successful lovers do -cheer themselves, with the brilliancy of his late exploit: nor was it -till he had turned the corner into the Greshamsbury stables that he -began to reflect what he would do next. It was all very well to have -induced Mary to allow his three fingers to lie half a minute in her -soft hand; the having done so might certainly be sufficient evidence -that he had overcome one of the lions in his path; but it could hardly -be said that all his difficulties were now smoothed. How was he to -make further progress? - -To Mary, also, the same ideas no doubt occurred--with many others. But, -then, it was not for Mary to make any progress in the matter. To her -at least belonged this passive comfort, that at present no act hostile -to the De Courcy interest would be expected from her. All that she -could do would be to tell her uncle so much as it was fitting that he -should know. The doing this would doubtless be in some degree -difficult; but it was not probable that there would be much difference, -much of anything but loving anxiety for each other, between her and Dr -Thorne. One other thing, indeed, she must do; Frank must be made to -understand what her birth had been. 'This,' she said to herself, 'will -give him an opportunity of retracting what he has done should he choose -to avail himself of it. It is well he should have such opportunity.' - -But Frank had more than this to do. He had told Beatrice that he would -make no secret of his love, and he fully resolved to be as good as his -word. To his father he owed an unreserved confidence; and he was fully -minded to give it. It was, he knew, altogether out of the question -that he should at once marry a portionless girl without his father's -consent; probably out of the question that he should do so even with -it. But he would, at any rate, tell his father, and then decide as to -what should be done next. So resolving, he put his black horse into -the stable and went into dinner. After dinner he and his father would -be alone. - -Yes; after dinner he and his father would be alone. He dressed himself -hurriedly, for the dinner-bell was almost on the stroke as he entered -the house. He said this to himself once and again; but when the meats -and the puddings, and then the cheese were borne away, as the decanters -were placed before his father, and Lady Arabella sipped her one glass -of claret, and his sisters ate their portion of strawberries, his -pressing anxiety for the coming interview began to wax somewhat dull. - -His mother and sisters, however, rendered him no assistance by -prolonging their stay. With unwonted assiduity he pressed a second -glass of claret on his mother. But Lady Arabella was not only -temperate in her habits, but also at the present moment very angry with -her son. She thought that he had been to Boxall Hill, and was only -waiting a proper moment to cross-question him sternly on the subject. -Now she departed, taking her train of daughters with her. - -'Give me one big gooseberry,' said Nina, as she squeezed herself in -under her brother's arm, prior to making her retreat. Frank would -willingly have given her a dozen of the biggest, had she wanted them; -but having got the one, she squeezed herself out again and scampered -off. - -The squire was very cheery this evening; from what cause cannot now be -said. Perhaps he had succeeded in negotiating a further loan, thus -temporarily sprinkling a drop of water over the ever-rising dust of his -difficulties. - -'Well, Frank, what have you been after to-day? Peter told me you had -the black horse out,' said he, pushing the decanter to his son. 'Take -my advice, my boy, and don't give him too much summer road-work. Legs -won't stand it, let them be ever so good.' - -'Why, sir, I was obliged to go out to-day, and therefore, it had to be -either the old mare or the young horse.' - -'Why didn't you take Ramble?' Now Ramble was the squire's own saddle -hack, used for farm surveying, and occasionally for going to cover. - -'I shouldn't think of doing that, sir.' - -'My dear boy, he is quite at your service; for goodness' sake do let me -have a little wine, Frank--quite at your service; any riding I have now -is after the haymakers, and that's all on the grass.' - -'Thank'ee, sir. Well, perhaps I will take a turn out of Ramble should -I want it.' - -'Do, and pray, pray take care of that black horse's legs. He's turning -out more of a horse than I took him to be, and I should be sorry to see -him injured. Where have you been to-day?' - -'Well, father, I have something to tell you.' - -'Something to tell me!' and then the squire's happy and gay look, which -had been only rendered more happy and more gay by his assumed anxiety -about the black horse, gave place to a heaviness of visage which -acrimony and misfortune had made so habitual to him. 'Something to -tell me!' Any grave words like these always presaged some money -difficulty to the squire's ears. He loved Frank with the tenderest -love. He would have done so under almost any circumstances; but, -doubtless, that love had been made more palpable to himself by the fact -that Frank had been a good son as regards money--not exigeant as was -Lady Arabella, or selfishly reckless as was his nephew Lord Porlock. -But now Frank must be in some difficulty about money. This was his -first idea. 'What is it, Frank; you have seldom had anything to say -that has not been pleasant for me to hear?' And then the heaviness of -visage again gave way for a moment as his eye fell upon his son. - -'I have been to Boxall Hill, sir.' - -The tenor of his father's thoughts was changed in an instant; and the -dread of immediate temporary annoyance gave place to true anxiety for -his son. He, the squire, had been no party to Mary's exile from his -own domain; and he had seen with pain that she had now a second time -been driven from her home: but he had never hitherto questioned the -expediency of separating his son from Mary Thorne. Alas! it had -become too necessary--too necessary through his own default--that Frank -should marry money! - -'At Boxall Hill, Frank! Has that been prudent? Or, indeed, has it -been generous to Miss Thorne, who has been driven there, as it were, by -your imprudence?' - -'Father, it is well that we should understand each other about this--' - -'Fill your glass, Frank;' Frank mechanically did as he was told, and -passed the bottle. - -'I should never forgive myself were I to deceive you, or keep anything -from you.' - -'I believe it is not in your nature to deceive me, Frank.' - -'The fact is, sir, that I have made up my mind that Mary Thorne shall -be my wife--sooner or later, that is, unless, of course, she should -utterly refuse. Hitherto, she has utterly refused me. I believe I may -now say that she has accepted me.' - -The squire sipped his claret, but at the moment said nothing. There was -a quiet, manly, but yet modest determination about his son that he had -hardly noticed before. Frank had become legally of age, legally a man, -when he was twenty-one. Nature, it seems, had postponed the ceremony -till he was twenty-two. Nature often does postpone the ceremony even -to a much later age;--sometimes, altogether forgets to accomplish it. - -The squire continued to sip his claret; he had to think over the matter -a while before he could answer a statement so deliberately made by his -son. - -'I think I may say so,' continued Frank, with perhaps unnecessary -modesty. 'She is so honest that, had she not intended it, she would -have said so honestly. Am I right, father, in thinking that, as -regards Mary, personally, you would not reject her as a -daughter-in-law?' - -'Personally!' said the squire, glad to have the subject presented to -him in a view that enabled him to speak out. 'Oh, no; personally, I -should not object to her, for I love her dearly. She is a good girl. I -do believe she is a good girl in every respect. I have always liked -her; liked to see her about the house. But--' - -'I know what you would say, father.' This was rather more than the -squire knew himself. 'Such a marriage is imprudent.' - -'It is more than that, Frank; I fear that is impossible.' - -'Impossible! No, father; it is not impossible.' - -'It is impossible, Frank, in the usual sense. What are you to live -upon? What would you do with your children? You would not wish to see -your wife distressed and comfortless.' - -'No, I should not like to see that.' - -'You would not wish to begin life as an embarrassed man and end it as a -ruined man. If you were now to marry Miss Thorne such would, I fear, -doubtless be your lot.' - -Frank caught at the word 'now'. 'I don't expect to marry immediately. -I know that would be imprudent. But I am pledged, father, and I -certainly cannot go back. And now that I have told you all this, what -is your advice to me?' - -The father again sat silent, still sipping his wine. There was nothing -in his son that he could be ashamed of, nothing that he could meet with -anger, nothing that he could not love; but how should he answer him? -The fact was, that the son had more in him than the father; this his -mind and spirit were of a calibre not to be opposed successfully by the -mind and the spirit of the squire. - -'Do you know Mary's history?' said Mr Gresham, at last; 'the history of -her birth?' - -'Not a word of it,' said Frank. 'I did not know she had a history.' - -'Nor does she know it; at least, I presume not. But you should know it -now. And, Frank, I will tell it you; not to turn you from her--not with -that object, though I think that, to a certain extent, it should have -that effect. Mary's birth was not such that would become your wife, and -be beneficial to your children.' - -'If so, father, I should have known it sooner. Why was she brought -here among us?' - -'True, Frank. The fault is mine; mine and your mother's. -Circumstances brought it all about years ago, when it never occurred to -us that all this would arise. But I will tell you her history. And, -Frank, remember this, though I tell it you as a secret, a secret to be -kept from all the world but one, you are quite at liberty to let the -doctor know I have told you. Indeed, I shall be careful to let him -know myself should it ever be necessary that he and I should speak -together as to this engagement.' The squire then told his son the -whole story of Mary's birth, as it is known to the reader. - -Frank sat silent, looking very blank; he also had, as had every -Gresham, a great love for his pure blood. He had said to his mother -that he hated money, that he hated the estate; but he would have been -very slow to say, even in his warmest opposition to her, that he hated -the roll of the family pedigree. He loved it dearly, though he seldom -spoke of it;--as men of good family seldom do speak of it. It is one -of those possessions which to have is sufficient. A man having it need -not boast of what he has, or show it off before the world. But on that -account he values it more. He had regarded Mary as a cutting duly -taken from the Ullathorne tree; not, indeed, as a grafting branch, full -of flower, just separated from the parent stalk, but as being not a -whit the less truly endowed with the pure sap of that venerable trunk. -When, therefore, he heard her true history he sat awhile dismayed. - -'It is a sad story,' said the father. - -'Yes, sad enough,' said Frank, rising from his chair and standing with -it before him, leaning on the back of it. 'Poor Mary, poor mary! She -will have to learn it some day.' - -'I fear so, Frank;' and then there was again a few moments' silence. - -'To me, father, it is told too late. It can now have no effect on me. -Indeed,' said he, sighing as he spoke, but still relieving himself by -the very sigh, 'it could have had no effect had I learned it ever so -soon.' - -'I should have told you before,' said the father; 'certainly I ought to -have done so.' - -'It would have been no good,' said Frank. 'Ah, sir, tell me this: who -were Miss Dunstable's parents? What was that fellow Moffat's family?' - -This was perhaps cruel of Frank. The squire, however, made no answer -to the question. 'I have thought it right to tell you,' said he. 'I -leave all the commentary to yourself. I need not tell you what your -mother will think.' - -'What did she think of miss Dunstable's birth?' said he, again more -bitterly than before. 'No, sir,' he continued, after a further pause. -'All that can make no change; none at any rate now. It can't make my -love less, even if it could have prevented it. Nor, even, could it do -so--which it can't in the least, not in the least--but could it do so, -it could not break my engagement. I am now engaged to Mary Thorne.' - -And then he again repeated his question, asking for his father's advice -under the present circumstances. The conversation was a very long one, -as long as to disarrange all Lady Arabella's plans. She had determined -to take her son more stringently to task that very evening; and with -this object had ensconced herself in the small drawing-room which had -formerly been used for a similar purpose by the august countess -herself. Here she now sat, having desired Augusta and Beatrice, as well -as the twins, to beg Frank to go to her as soon as he should come out -of the dining-room. Poor lady! there she waited till ten -o'clock,--tealess. There was not much of the Bluebeard about the -squire; but he had succeeded in making it understood through the -household that he was not to be interrupted by messages from his wife -during the post-prandial hour, which, though no toper, he loved so -well. - -As a period of twelve months will now have to be passed over, the -upshot of this long conversation must be told in as few words as -possible. The father found it impracticable to talk his son out of his -intended marriage; indeed, he hardly attempted to do so by any direct -persuasion. He explained to him that it was impossible that he should -marry at once, and suggested that he, Frank, was very young. - -'You married, sir, before you were one-and-twenty,' said Frank. Yes and -repented before I was two-and-twenty. So did not say the squire. - -He suggested that Mary should have time to ascertain what would be her -uncle's wishes, and ended by inducing Frank to promise, that after -taking his degree in October he would go abroad for some months, and -that he would not indeed return to Greshamsbury until he was -three-and-twenty. - -'He may perhaps forget her,' said the father to himself. - -'He thinks that I shall forget her,' said Frank to himself at the same -time; 'but he does not know me.' - -When Lady Arabella at last got hold of her son she found that the time -for her preaching had utterly gone by. He told he, almost with -sang-froid, what his plans were; and when she came to understand them, -and to understand also what had taken place at Boxall Hill, she could -not blame the squire for what he had done. She also said to herself, -more confidently than the squire had done, that Frank would quite -forget Mary before the year was out. 'Lord Buckish,' said she to -herself, rejoicingly, 'is now with the ambassador at Paris'--Lord -Buckish was her nephew--'and with him Frank will meet women that are -really beautiful--women of fashion. When with Lord Buckish he will -soon forget Mary Thorne.' - -But not on this account did she change her resolve to follow up to the -furthest point her hostility to the Thornes. She was fully enabled now -to do so, for Dr Fillgrave was already reinstated at Greshamsbury as -her medical adviser. - -One other short visit did Frank pay to Boxall Hill, and one interview -had he with Dr Thorne. Mary told him all she knew of her own sad -history, and was answered only by a kiss,--a kiss absolutely not in any -way by her to be avoided; the first, and only one, that had ever yet -reached her lips from his. And then he went away. - -The doctor told him the full story. 'Yes,' said Frank, 'I knew it all -before. Dear Mary, dearest Mary! Don't you, doctor, teach yourself to -believe that I shall forget her.' And then also he went his way from -him--went his way also from Greshamsbury, and was absent for the full -period of the allotted banishment--twelve months, namely, and a day. - - - -CHAPTER XXXI - -THE SMALL EDGE OF THE WEDGE - -Frank Gresham was absent from Greshamsbury twelve months and a day: a -day is always added to the period of such absences, as shown in the -history of Lord Bateman and other noble heroes. We need not detail all -the circumstances of his banishment, all the details of the compact -that was made. One detail of course was this, that there should be no -corresponding; a point to which the squire found some difficulty in -bringing his son to assent. - -It must not be supposed that Mary Thorne or the doctor were in any way -parties to, or privy to these agreements. By no means. The agreements -were drawn out, and made, and signed, and sealed at Greshamsbury, and -were known nowhere else. The reader must not imagine that Lady -Arabella was prepared to give up her son, if only his love could remain -constant for one year. Neither did Lady Arabella consent to any such -arrangement, nor did the squire. It was settled rather in this wise: -that Frank should be subjected to no torturing process, pestered to -give no promises, should in no way be bullied about Mary--that is, not -at present--if he would go away for a year. Then, at the end of the -year, the matter should again be discussed. Agreeing to this, Frank -took his departure, and was absent as per agreement. - -What were Mary's fortunes immediately after his departure must be -shortly told, and then we will again join some of our Greshamsbury -friends at a period about a month before Frank's return. - -When Sir Louis saw Frank Gresham standing by Mary's donkey, with his -arms round Mary's knees, he began to fear that there must be something -in it. He had intended that very day to throw himself at Mary's feet, -and now it appeared to his inexperienced eyes as though somebody else -had been at the same work before him. This not unnaturally made him -cross; so, after having sullenly wished his visitor good-bye, he betook -himself to his room, and there drank curacoa alone, instead of coming -down to dinner. - -This he did for two or three days, and then, taking heart of grace, he -remembered that, after all, he had many advantages over young Gresham. -In the first place, he was a baronet, and could make his wife a -'lady'. In the next place, Frank's father was alive and like to live, -whereas his own was dead. He possessed Boxall Hill in his own right, -but his rival had neither house nor land of his own. After all, might -it not be possible for him also to put his arm round Mary's knees;--her -knees, or her waist, or, perhaps, even her neck? Faint heart never won -fair lady. At any rate, he would try. - -And he did try. With what result, as regards Mary, need hardly be -told. He certainly did not get nearly so far as putting his hand even -upon her knee before he was made to understand that it 'was no go', as -he graphically described it to his mother. He tried once and again. On -the first time Mary was very civil, though very determined. On the -second, she was more determined, though less civil; and then she told -him, that if he pressed her further he would drive her from her -mother's house. There was something then about Mary's eye, a fixed -composure round her mouth, and an authority in her face, which went far -to quell him; and he did not press her again. - -He immediately left Boxall Hill, and, returning to London, had more -violent recourse to the curacoa. It was not long before the doctor -heard of him, and was obliged to follow him, and then again occurred -those frightful scenes in which the poor wretch had to expiate, either -in terrible delirium or more terrible prostration of spirits, the vile -sin which his father had so early taught him. - -Then Mary returned to her uncle's home. Frank was gone, and she -therefore could resume her place at Greshamsbury. Yes, she came back -to Greshamsbury; but Greshamsbury was by no means the same place that -it was formerly. Almost all intercourse was now over between the -doctor and the Greshamsbury people. He rarely ever saw the squire, and -then only on business. Not that the squire had purposely quarrelled -with him; but Dr Thorne himself had chosen that it should be so, since -Frank had openly proposed to his niece. Frank was now gone, and Lady -Arabella was in arms against him. It should not be said that he kept -up any intimacy for the sake of aiding the lovers in their love. No -one should rightfully accuse him of inveigling the heir to marry his -niece. - -Mary, therefore, found herself utterly separated from Beatrice. She was -not even able to learn what Beatrice would think, or did think, of the -engagement as it now stood. She could not even explain to her friend -that love had been too strong for her, and endeavour to get some -comfort from that friend's absolution from her sin. This estrangement -was now carried so far that she and Beatrice did not even meet on -neutral ground. Lady Arabella made it known to Miss Oriel that her -daughter could not meet Mary Thorne, even as strangers meet; and it was -made known to others also. Mrs Yates Umbleby, and her dear friend Miss -Gushing, to whose charming tea-parties none of the Greshamsbury ladies -went above once in a twelvemonth, talked through the parish of this -distressing difficulty. They would have been so happy to have asked -dear Mary Thorne, only the Greshamsbury ladies did not approve. - -Mary was thus tabooed from all society in the place in which a -twelvemonth since she had been, of all its denizens, perhaps the most -courted. In those days, no bevy of Greshamsbury young ladies had -fairly represented the Greshamsbury young ladyhood if Mary Thorne was -not there. Now she was excluded from all such bevies. Patience did -not quarrel with her, certainly;--came to see her frequently;--invited -her to walk;--invited her frequently to the parsonage. But Mary was shy -of acceding to such invitations and at last frankly told her friend -Patience, that she would not again break bread in Greshamsbury in any -house in which she was not thought fit to meet the other guests who -habitually resorted there. - -In truth, both the doctor and his niece were very sore, but there were -of that temperament that keeps all its soreness to itself. Mary walked -out by herself boldly, looking at least as though she were indifferent -to all the world. She was, indeed, hardly treated. Young ladies' -engagements are generally matters of profoundest secrecy, and are -hardly known of by their near friends till marriage is a thing -settled. But all the world knew of Mary's engagement within a month of -that day on which she had neglected to expel Frank's finger from her -hand; it had been told openly through the country-side that she had -confessed her love for the young squire. Now it is disagreeable for a -young lady to walk about under such circumstances, especially so when -she has no female friend to keep her in countenance, more especially so -when the gentleman is such importance in the neighbourhood as Frank was -in that locality. It was a matter of moment to every farmer, and every -farmer's wife, which bride Frank should marry of those bespoken for -him; Mary, namely, or Money. Every yokel about the place had been made -to understand that, by some feminine sleight of hand, the doctor's -niece had managed to trap Master Frank, and that Master Frank had been -sent out of the way so that he might, if yet possible, break through -the trapping. All this made life rather unpleasant for her. - -One day, walking solitary in the lanes, she met that sturdy farmer to -whose daughter she had in former days been so serviceable. 'God bless -'ee, Miss Mary,' said he--he always bid God bless her when he saw her. -'And, Miss Mary, to say my mind out freely, thee be quite gude enough -for un, quite gude enough; so thee be'st tho'f he were ten squoires.' -There may, perhaps, have been something pleasant in the heartiness of -this; but it was not pleasant to have this heart affair of hers thus -publicly scanned and talked over: to have it known to every one that -she had set her heart on marrying Frank gem, and that all the Greshams -had set their hearts in preventing it. And yet she could in nowise -help it. No girl could have been more staid and demure, less -demonstrative and boastful about her love. She had never yet spoken -freely, out of her full heart, to one human being. 'Oh, Frank!' All -her spoken sin had been contained in that. - -But Lady Arabella had been very active. It suited her better that it -should be known, far and wide, that a nameless pauper--Lady Arabella -only surmised that her foe was nameless; but she did not scruple to -declare it--was intriguing to catch the heir of Greshamsbury. None of -the Greshams must meet Mary Thorne; that was the edict sent out about -the county; and the edict was well understood. Those, therefore, were -bad days for Miss Thorne. - -She had never yet spoken on the matter freely, out of her full heart to -one human being. Not to one? Not to him? Not to her uncle? No, not -even to him, fully and freely. She had told him that that had passed -between Frank and her which amounted, at any rate on his part, to a -proposal. - -'Well, dearest, and what was your answer?' said her uncle, drawing her -close to him, and speaking in his kindest voice. - -'I hardly made an answer, uncle.' - -'You did not reject him, Mary?' - -'No, uncle,' and then she paused;--he had never known her tremble as -she now trembled. 'But if you say that I ought, I will,' she added, -drawing every word from herself with difficulty. - -'I say you ought, Mary! Nay; but this question you must answer -yourself.' - -'Must I?' said she, plaintively. And then she sat for the next half -hour with her head against his shoulder; but nothing more was said -about it. They both acquiesced in the sentence that had been -pronounced against them, and went on together more lovingly than -before. - -The doctor was quite as weak as his niece; nay, weaker. She hesitated -fearfully as to what she ought to do: whether she should obey her heart -or the dictates of Greshamsbury. But he had other doubts than hers, -which nearly set him wild when he strove to bring his mind to a -decision. He himself was now in possession--of course as a trustee -only--of the title-deeds of the estate; more of the estate, much more, -belonged to the heirs under Sir Roger Scatcherd's will than to the -squire. It was now more than probable that that heir must be Mary -Thorne. His conviction became stronger and stronger that no human -effort would keep Sir Louis in the land of the living till he was -twenty-five. Could he, therefore, wisely or honestly, in true -friendship to the squire, to Frank, or to his niece, take any steps to -separate two persons who loved each other, and whose marriage would in -human probability be so suitable? - -And yet he could not bring himself to encourage it then. The idea of -'looking after dead man's shoes' was abhorrent to his mind, especially -when the man whose death he contemplated had been so trusted to him as -had been Sir Louis Scatcherd. He could not speak of the event, even to -the squire, as being possible. So he kept his peace from day to day, -and gave no counsel to Mary in the matter. - -And then he had his own individual annoyances, and very aggravating -annoyances they were. The carriage--or rather the post-chaise--of Dr -Fillgrave was now frequent in Greshamsbury, passing him constantly in -the street, among the lanes, and on the high roads. It seemed as -though Dr Fillgrave could never get to his patients at the big house -without showing himself to his beaten rival, either on is way thither -or on his return. This alone would, perhaps, not have hurt the doctor -much; but it did hurt him to know that Dr Fillgrave was attending the -squire for a little incipient gout, and that dear Nina was in measles -under those unloving hands. - -And then, also, the old-fashioned phaeton, of old-fashioned old Dr -Century was seen to rumble up to the big house, and it became known -that Lady Arabella was not very well. 'Not very well,' when pronounced -in a low, grave voice about Lady Arabella, always meant something -serious. And, in this case, something serious was meant. Lady -Arabella was not only ill, but frightened. It appeared even to her, -that Dr Fillgrave hardly knew what he was about, that he was not so -sure in his opinion, so confident in himself as Dr Thorne used to be. -how should he be, seeing that Dr Thorne had medically had Lady Arabella -in his hands for the last ten years? - -If sitting with dignity in his hired carriage, and stepping with -authority up the big front steps, would have done anything, Dr -Fillgrave might have done much. Lady Arabella was greatly taken with -his looks when he first came to her, and it was only when she by -degrees that the symptoms, which she knew so well, did not yield to him -that she began to doubt those looks. - -After a while Dr Fillgrave himself suggested Dr Century. 'Not that I -fear anything, Lady Arabella,' said he,--lying hugely, for he did fear; -fear both for himself and for her. 'But Dr Century has great -experience, and in such a matter, when the interests are so important, -one cannot be too safe.' - -So Dr Century came and toddled slowly into her ladyship's room. He did -not say much; he left the talking to his learned brother, who certainly -was able to do that part of the business. But Dr Century, though he -said very little, looked very grave, and by no means quieted Lady -Arabella's mind. She, as she saw the two putting their heads together, -already had misgivings that she had done wrong. She knew that she -could not be safe without Dr Thorne at her bedside, and she already -felt that she had exercised a most injudicious courage in driving him -away. - -'Well, doctor?' said she, as soon as Dr Century had toddled downstairs -to see the squire. - -'Oh! we shall be all right, Lady Arabella; all right, very soon. But -we must be careful, very careful; I am glad I've had Dr Century here, -very; but there's nothing to alter; little or nothing.' - -There was but few words spoken between Dr Century and the squire; but -few as they were, they frightened Mr Gresham. When Dr Fillgrave came -down the grand stairs, a servant waited at the bottom to ask him also -to go to the squire. Now there never had been much cordiality between -the squire and Dr Fillgrave, though Mr Gresham had consented to take a -preventative pill from his hands, and the little man therefore swelled -himself out somewhat more than ordinarily as he followed the servant. - -'Dr Fillgrave,' said the squire, at once beginning the conversation, -'Lady Arabella, is I fear, in danger?' - -'Well, no; I hope not in danger, Mr Gresham. I certainly believe I may -be justified in expressing a hope that she is not in danger. Her state -is, no doubt, rather serious;--rather serious--as Dr Century has -probably told you;' and Dr Fillgrave made a bow to the old man, who sat -quiet in one of the dining-room arm-chairs. - -'Well, doctor,' said the squire, 'I have not any grounds on which to -doubt your judgement.' - -Dr Fillgrave bowed, but with the stiffest, slightest inclination which -a head could possibly make. He rather thought that Mr Gresham had no -ground for doubting his judgement. - -'Nor do I.' - -The doctor bowed, and a little, a very little less stiffly. - -'But, doctor, I think that something ought to be done.' - -The doctor this time did his bowing merely with his eyes and mouth. The -former he closed for a moment, the latter he pressed; and then -decorously rubbed his hands one over the other. - -'I am afraid, Dr Fillgrave, that you and my friend Thorne are not the -best friends in the world.' - -'No, Mr Gresham, no; I may go so far as to say we are not.' - -'Well, I am sorry for it--' - -'Perhaps, Mr Gresham, we need hardly discuss it; but there have been -circumstances--' - -'I am not going to discuss anything, Dr Fillgrave; I say I am sorry for -it, because I believe that prudence will imperatively require Lady -Arabella to have Doctor Thorne back again. Now, if you would not -object to meet him--' - -'Mr Gresham, I beg pardon; I beg pardon, indeed; but you must really -excuse me. Doctor Thorne has, in my estimation--' - -'But, Doctor Fillgrave--' - -'Mr Gresham, you really must excuse me; you really must, indeed. -Anything else that I could do for Lady Arabella, I should be most happy -to do; but after what has passed, I cannot meet Doctor Thorne; I really -cannot. You must not ask me to do so; Mr Gresham. And, Mr Gresham,' -continued the doctor, 'I did understand from Lady Arabella that -his--that is, Dr Thorne's--conduct to her ladyship had been such--so -very outrageous, I may say, that--that--that--of course, Mr Gresham, you -know best; but I did think that Lady Arabella herself was quite -unwilling to see Doctor Thorne again;' and Dr Fillgrave looked very big, -and very dignified, and very exclusive. - -The squire did not ask again. He had no warrant for supposing that -Lady Arabella would receive Dr Thorne if he did come; and he saw that -it was useless to attempt to overcome the rancour of the man so -pig-headed as the little Galen now before him. Other propositions were -then broached, and it was at last decided that assistance should be -sought for from London, in the person of the great Sir Omicron Pie. - -Sir Omicron came, and Drs Fillgrave and Century were there to meet -him. When they all assembled in Lady Arabella's room, the poor woman's -heart almost sand within her,--as well it might, at such a sight. If -she could only reconcile it with her honour, her consistency, with her -high De Courcy principles, to send once more for Dr Thorne. Oh, -Frank! Frank! to what misery your disobedience brought your mother! - -Sir Omicron and the lesser provincial lights had their consultation, -and the lesser lights went their way to Barchester and Silverbridge, -leaving Sir Omicron to enjoy the hospitality of Greshamsbury. - -'You should have Thorne back here, Mr Gresham,' said Sir Omicron, -almost in a whisper, when they were quite alone. 'Doctor Fillgrave is -a very good man, and so is Dr Century; very good, I'm sure. But Thorne -has known her ladyship so long.' And then, on the following morning, -Sir Omicron also went his way. - -And then there was a scene between the squire and her ladyship. Lady -Arabella had given herself credit for great good generalship when she -found that the squire had been induced to take that pill. We have all -heard of the little end of the wedge, and we have most of us an idea -that the little end is the difficulty. That pill had been the little -end of Lady Arabella's wedge. Up to that period she had been -struggling in vain to make a severance between her husband and her -enemy. That pill should do the business. She well knew how to make -the most of it; to have it published in Greshamsbury that the squire -had put his gouty toe into Dr Fillgrave's hands; how to let it be -known--especially at that humble house in the corner of the street--that -Fillgrave's prescriptions now ran current through the whole -establishment. Dr Thorne did hear of it, and did suffer. He had been -a true friend to the squire, and he thought the squire should have -stood to him more staunchly. - -'After all,' said he himself, 'perhaps it's as well--perhaps it will be -best that I should leave this place altogether.' And then he thought -of Sir Roger and his will, and of Mary and her lover. And then of -Mary's birth, and of his own theoretical doctrines as to pure blood. -And so his troubles multiplied, and he saw no present daylight through -them. - -Such had been the way in which Lady Arabella had got in the little end -of the wedge. And she would have triumphed joyfully had not her -increased doubts and fears as to herself then come in to check her -triumph and destroy her joy. She had not yet confessed to any one her -secret regret for the friend she had driven away. She hardly yet -acknowledged to herself that she did regret him; but she was uneasy, -frightened, and in low spirits. - -'My dear,' said the squire, sitting down by her bedside, 'I want to -tell you what Sir Omicron said as he went away.' - -'Well?' said her ladyship, sitting up and looking frightened. - -'I don't know how you may take it, Bell; but I think it very good -news:' the squire never called his wife Bell, except when he wanted her -to be on particularly good terms with him. - -'Well?' she said again. She was not over-anxious to be gracious, and -did not reciprocate his familiarity. - -'Sir Omicron says that you should have Thorne back again, and upon my -honour, I cannot but agree with him. Now, Thorne is a clever man, a -very clever man; nobody denies that; and then, you know--' - -'Why did not Sir Omicron say that to me?' said her ladyship, sharply, -all her disposition in Dr Thorne's favour becoming wonderfully damped -by her husband's advocacy. - -'I suppose he thought it better to say it to me,' said the squire. - -'He should have spoken to myself,' said Lady Arabella, who, though she -did not absolutely doubt her husband's word, gave him credit for having -induced and led on Sir Omicron to the uttering of the opinion. 'Doctor -Thorne has behaved to me in so gross, so indecent a manner! And then, -as I understand, he is absolutely encouraging that girl--' - -'Now, Bell, you are quite wrong--' - -'Of course I am; I always am quite wrong.' - -'Quite wrong in mixing up two things; Doctor Thorne as an acquaintance, -and Dr Thorne as a doctor.' - -'It is dreadful to have him here, even standing in the room with me. -How can one talk to one's doctor openly and confidentially when one -looks upon him as one's worst enemy?' And Lady Arabella, softening, -almost melted with tears. - -'My dear, you cannot wonder that I should be anxious for you.' - -Lady Arabella gave a little snuffle, which might be taken as a not very -eloquent expression of thanks for the squire's solicitude, or as an -ironical jeer at his want of sincerity. - -'And, therefore, I have not lost a moment in telling you what Sir -Omicron said. "You should have Thorne back here;" those were his very -words. You can think it over, my dear. And remember this, Bell; if he -is to do any good no time is to be lost.' - -And then the squire left the room, and Lady Arabella remained alone, -perplexed by many doubts. - - - -CHAPTER XXXII - -MR ORIEL - -I must now, shortly--as shortly as it is in my power to do it--introduce -a new character to my reader. Mention has been made of the rectory of -Greshamsbury; but, hitherto, no opportunity has offered itself for the -Rev Caleb Oriel to come upon the boards. - -Mr Oriel was a man of family and fortune, who, having gone to Oxford -with the usual views of such men, had become inoculated there with very -High-Church principles, and had gone into orders influenced by a -feeling of enthusiastic love for the priesthood. He was by no means an -ascetic--such men, indeed, seldom are--nor was he a devotee. He was a -man well able, and certainly willing to do the work of a parish -clergyman; and when he became one, he was efficacious in his -profession. But it may perhaps be said of him, without speaking -slanderously, that his original calling, as a young man, was rather to -the outward and visible signs of religion than to its inward and -spiritual graces. - -He delighted in lecterns and credence-tables, in services at dark hours -of winter mornings when no one would attend, in high waistcoats and -narrow white neckties, in chanted services and intoned prayers, and in -all the paraphernalia of Anglican formalities which have given such -offence to those of our brethren who live in daily fear of the scarlet -lady. Many of his friends declared that Mr Oriel would sooner or later -deliver himself over body and soul to that lady; but there was no need -to fear for him: for though sufficiently enthusiastic to get out of bed -at five am on winter mornings--he did so, at least, all through his -first winter at Greshamsbury--he was not made of that stuff which is -necessary for a staunch, burning, self-denying convert. It was not in -him to change his very sleek black coat for a Capuchin's filthy -cassock, nor his pleasant parsonage for some dirty hole in Rome. And -it was better so both for him and others. There are but few, very few, -to whom it is given to be a Huss, a Wickliffe, or a Luther; and a man -gains but little by being a false Huss, or a false Luther,--and his -neighbours gain less. - -But certain lengths in self-privation Mr Oriel did go; at any rate, for -some time. He eschewed matrimony, imagining that it became him as a -priest to do so. He fasted rigorously on Fridays; and the neighbours -declared that he scourged himself. - -Mr Oriel was, it has been said, a man of fortune; that is to say, when -he came of age he was master of thirty thousand pounds. When he took -it into his head to go into the Church, his friends bought for him the -next presentation to the living at Greshamsbury; and, a year after his -ordination, the living falling in, Mr Oriel brought himself and his -sister to the rectory. - -Mr Oriel soon became popular. He was a dark-haired, good-looking man, -of polished manners, agreeable in society, not given to monkish -austerities--except in the matter of Fridays--nor yet to the Low-Church -severity of demeanour. He was thoroughly a gentleman, good-humoured, -inoffensive, and sociable. But he had one fault: he was not a marrying -man. - -On this ground there was a feeling against him so strong as almost at -one time to throw him into serious danger. It was not only that he -should be sworn against matrimony in his individual self--he whom fate -had made so able to sustain the weight of a wife and family; but what -an example he was setting! If other clergymen all around should -declare against wives and families, what was to become of the country? -What was to be done in the rural districts? The religious observances, -as regards women, of a Brigham Young were hardly so bad as this! - -There were around Greshamsbury very many unmarried ladies--I believe -there generally are so round must such villages. From the great house -he did not receive much annoyance. Beatrice was then only just on the -verge of being brought out, and was not perhaps inclined to think very -much of a young clergyman; and Augusta certainly intended to fly at -higher game. But there were the Miss Athelings, the daughters of a -neighbouring clergyman, who were ready to go all lengths with him in -High-Church matters, except as that one tremendously papal step of -celibacy; and the two Miss Hesterwells, of Hesterwell Park, the younger -of whom boldly declared her purpose of civilizing the savage; and Mrs -Opie Green, a very pretty widow, with a very pretty jointure, who lived -in a very pretty house about a mile from Greshamsbury, and who declared -her opinion that Mr Oriel was quite right in his view of a clergyman's -position. How could a woman, situated as she was, have the comfort of -a clergyman's attention if he were to be regarded just as any other -man? She could now know in what light to regard Mr Oriel, and would be -able without scruple to avail herself of his zeal. So she did avail -herself of his zeal,--and that without any scruple. - -And then there was Miss Gushing,--a young thing. Miss Gushing had a -great advantage over the other competitors for the civilization of Mr -Oriel, namely, in this--that she was able to attend his morning -services. If Mr Oriel was to be reached in any way, it was probable -that he might be reached in this way. If anything could civilize him, -this would do it. Therefore, the young thing, through all one long, -tedious winter, tore herself from her warm bed, and was to be seen--no, -not seen, but heard--entering Mr Oriel's church at six o'clock. With -indefatigable assiduity the responses were made, uttered from under a -close bonnet, and out of a dark corner, in an enthusiastically feminine -voice, through the whole winter. - -Nor did Miss Gushing altogether fail in her object. When a clergyman's -daily audience consists of but one person, and that person is a young -lady, it is hardly possible that he should not become personally -intimate with her; hardly possible that he should not be in some -measure grateful. Miss Gushing's responses came from her with such -fervour, and she begged for ghostly advice with such eager longing to -have her scruples satisfied, that Mr Oriel had nothing for it but to -give way to a certain amount of civilization. - -By degrees it came to pass that Miss Gushing could never get her final -prayer said, her shawl and boa adjusted, and stow away her nice new -Prayer Book with the red letters inside, and the cross on the back, -till Mr Oriel had been into his vestry and got rid of his surplice. And -then they met at the church-porch, and naturally walked together till -Mr Oriel's cruel gateway separated them. The young thing did sometimes -think that, as the parson's civilization progressed, he might have -taken the trouble to walk with her as far as Mrs Yates Umbleby's hall -door; but she had hope to sustain her, and a firm resolve to merit -success, even though she might not attain it. - -'It is not ten thousand pities,' she once said to him, 'that none here -should avail themselves of the inestimable privilege which your coming -has conferred upon us? Oh, Mr Oriel, I do so wonder at it! To me it -is so delightful! The morning service in the dark church is so -beautiful, so touching!' - -'I suppose they think it a bore getting up so early,' said Mr Oriel. - -'Ah, a bore!' said Miss Gushing, in an enthusiastic tone of -depreciation. 'How insensate they must be! To me it gives a new charm -to life. It quiets one for the day; makes one so fitter for one's -daily trials and daily troubles. Does it not, Mr Oriel?' - -'I look upon morning prayer as an imperative duty, certainly.' - -'Oh, certainly, a most imperative duty; but so delicious at the same -time. I spoke to Mrs Umbleby about it, but she said she could not -leave the children.' - -'No: I dare say not,' said Mr Oriel. - -'And Mr Umbleby said business kept him up so late at night.' - -'Very probably. I hardly expect the attendance of men of business.' - -'But the servants might come, mightn't they, Mr Oriel?' - -'I fear that servants seldom can have time for daily prayers in church.' - -'Oh, ah, no; perhaps not.' And then Miss Gushing began to bethink -herself of whom should be composed the congregation which it must be -presumed that Mr Oriel wished to see around him. But on this matter he -did not enlighten her. - -Then Miss Gushing took to fasting on Fridays, and made some futile -attempts to induce her priest to give her the comfort of confessional -absolution. But, unfortunately, the zeal of the master waxed cool as -that of the pupil waxed hot; and, at last, when the young thing -returned to Greshamsbury from an autumn excursion which she made with -Mrs Umbleby to Weston-super-Mare, she found that the delicious morning -services had died a natural death. Miss Gushing did not on that -account give up the game, but she was bound to fight with no particular -advantage in her favour. - -Miss Oriel, though a good Churchwoman, was by no means a convert to her -brother's extremist views, and perhaps gave but scanty credit to the -Gushings, Athelings, and Opie Greens for the sincerity of their -religion. But, nevertheless, she and her brother were staunch friends; -and she still hoped to see the day when he might be induced to think -that an English parson might get through his parish work with the -assistance of a wife better than he could do without such feminine -encumbrance. The girl whom she selected for his bride was not the -young thing, but Beatrice Gresham. - -And at last it seemed probable to Mr Oriel's nearest friends that he -was in a fair way to be overcome. Not that he had begun to make love -to Beatrice, or committed himself by the utterance of any opinion as to -the propriety of clerical marriages; but he daily became looser about -his peculiar tenets, raved less immoderately than heretofore as to the -atrocity of the Greshamsbury church pews, and was observed to take some -opportunities of conversing alone with Beatrice. Beatrice had always -denied the imputation--this had usually been made by Mary in their -happy days--with the vehement asseverations of anger; and Miss Gushing -had tittered, and expressed herself as supposing that great people's -daughters might be as barefaced as they pleased. - -All this had happened previous to the great Greshamsbury feud. Mr Oriel -gradually got himself into a way of sauntering up to the great house, -sauntering into the drawing-room for the purpose, as I am sure he -thought, of talking with Lady Arabella, and then of sauntering home -again, having usually found an opportunity for saying a few words to -Beatrice during the visit. This went on all through the feud up to the -period of Lady Arabella's illness; and then one morning, about a month -before the date fixed for Frank's return, Mr Oriel found himself -engaged to Miss Beatrice Gresham. - -From the day that Miss Gushing heard of it--which was not however for -some considerable time after this--she became an Independent Methodist. -She could no longer, she said at first, have any faith in any religion; -and for an hour or so she was almost tempted to swear that she could no -longer have any faith in any man. She had nearly completed a worked -cover for a credence-table when the news reached her, as to which, in -the young enthusiasm of her heart, she had not been able to remain -silent; it had already been promised to Mr Oriel; that promise she -swore should not be kept. He was an apostate, she said, from his -principles; an utter pervert; a false, designing man, with whom she -would never have trusted herself alone on dark mornings had she known -that he had such grovelling, worldly inclinations. So Miss Gushing -became an Independent Methodist; the credence-table covering was cut up -into slippers for the preacher's feet; and the young thing herself, -more happy in this direction than she had been in the other, became the -arbiter of that preacher's domestic happiness. - -But this little history of Miss Gushing's future life is premature. Mr -Oriel became engaged demurely, nay, almost silently, to Beatrice, and -no one out of their own immediate families was at the time informed of -the matter. It was arranged very differently from those other two -matches--embryo, or not embryo, those, namely, of Augusta with Mr -Moffat, and Frank with Mary Thorne. All Barsetshire had heard of them; -but that of Beatrice and Mr Oriel was managed in a much more private -manner. - -'I do think you are a happy girl,' said Patience to her one morning. - -'Indeed I am.' - -'He is so good. You don't know how good he is as yet; he never thinks -of himself, and thinks so much of those he loves.' - -Beatrice took her friend's hand in her own and kissed it. She was full -of joy. When a girl is about to be married, when she may lawfully talk -of love, there is no music in her ears so sweet as the praises of her -lover. - -'I made up my mind from the first that he should marry you.' - -'Nonsense, Patience.' - -'I did, indeed. I made up my mind that he should marry; and there were -only two to choose from.' - -'Me and Miss Gushing,' said Beatrice, laughing. - -'No; not exactly Miss Gushing. I had not many fears for Caleb there.' - -'I declare she is very pretty,' said Beatrice, who could afford to be -good-natured. Now Miss Gushing certainly was pretty; and would have -been very pretty had her nose not turned up so much, and could she have -parted her hair in the centre. - -'Well, I am very glad you chose me;--if it was you who chose,' said -Beatrice, modestly; having, however, in her own mind a strong opinion -that Mr Oriel had chosen for himself, and had never any doubt in the -matter. 'And who was the other?' - -'Can't you guess?' - -'I won't guess any more; perhaps Mrs Green.' - -'Oh, no; certainly not a widow. I don't like widows marrying. But of -course you could guess if you would; of course it was Mary Thorne. But -I soon saw Mary would not do, for two reasons; Caleb would never have -liked her well enough nor would she have ever liked him.' - -'Not like him! oh I hope she will; I do so love Mary Thorne.' - -'So do I dearly; and so does Caleb; but he could never have loved her -as he loves you.' - -'But, Patience, have you told Mary?' - -'No, I have told no one, and shall not without your leave.' - -'Ah, you must tell her. Tell it her with my best, and kindest, warmest -love. Tell her how happy I am, and how I long to talk to her. Tell -that I will have her for my bridesmaid. Oh! I do hope that before -that all this horrid quarrel will be settled. - -Patience undertook the commission, and did tell Mary; did give her also -the message which Beatrice had sent. And Mary was rejoiced to hear it; -for though, as Patience had said of her, she had never herself felt any -inclination to fall in love with Mr Oriel, she believed him to be one -in whose hands her friend's happiness would be secure. Then, by -degrees, the conversation changed from the loves of Mr Oriel and -Beatrice to the troubles of Frank Gresham and herself. - -'She says that let what will happen you shall be one of her -bridesmaids.' - -'Ah, yes, dear Trichy! that was settled between us in auld lang syne; -but those settlements are all unsettled now, and must be broken. No, I -cannot be her bridesmaid; but I shall yet hope to see her once before -her marriage.' - -'And why not be her bridesmaid? Lady Arabella will hardly object to -that.' - -'Lady Arabella!' said Mary, curling up her lip with deep scorn. 'I do -not care that for Lady Arabella,' and she let her silver thimble fall -from her fingers onto the table. 'If Beatrice invited me to her -wedding, she might manage as to that; I should ask no question as to -Lady Arabella.' - -'Then why not come to it?' - -She remained silent for a while, and then boldly answered. 'Though I -do not care for Lady Arabella, I do care for Mr Gresham:--and I do care -for his son.' - -'But the squire always loved you.' - -'Yes, and therefore I will not be there to vex his sight. I will tell -you the truth, Patience. I can never be in that house again till Frank -Gresham is a married man, or till I am about to be a married woman. I -do not think they have treated me well, but I will not treat them ill.' - -'I am sure you will not do that,' said Miss Oriel. - -'I will endeavour not to do so; and, therefore, will go to none of -their fetes! No, Patience.' And then she turned her head to the arm -of the sofa, and silently, without audible sobs, hiding her face, she -endeavoured to get rid of the tears unseen. For one moment she had all -but resolved to pour out the whole truth of her love into her friend's -ears; but suddenly she changed her mind. Why should she talk of her -own unhappiness? Why should she speak of her own love when she was -fully determined not to speak of Frank's promises. - -'Mary, dear Mary.' - -'Anything, but pity, Patience; anything but that,' said she, -convulsively, swallowing her sobs, and rubbing away her tears. 'I -cannot bear that. Tell Beatrice from me, that I wish her every -happiness; and, with such a husband, I am sure she will be happy. I -wish her every joy; give her my kindest love; but tell her that I -cannot be at her marriage. Oh, I should like to see her; not there, -you know, but here, in my own room, where I still have liberty to -speak.' - -'But why should you decide now? She is not to be married yet, you -know.' - -'Now, or this day twelvemonth, can make no difference. I will not go -into that house again, unless--but never mind; I will not go into it -all; never, never again. If I could forgive her for myself, I could -not forgive her for my uncle. But tell me, Patience, might not Beatrice -now come here? It is so dreadful to see her every Sunday in church -and never to speak to her, never to kiss her. She seems to look away -from me as though she too had chosen to quarrel with me.' - -Miss Oriel promised to do her best. She could not imagine, she said, -that such a visit could be objected to on such an occasion. She would -not advise Beatrice to come without telling her mother; but she could -not think that Lady Arabella would be so cruel as to make any -objection, knowing, as she could not but know, that her daughter, when -married, would be at liberty to choose her own friends. - -'Good-bye, Mary,' said Patience. 'I wish I knew how to say more to -comfort you.' - -'Oh, comfort! I don't want comfort. I want to be let alone.' - -'That's just it: you are so ferocious in your scorn, so unbending, so -determined to take all the punishment that comes in your way.' - -'What I do take, I'll take without complaint,' said Mary; and then they -kissed each other and parted. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII - -A MORNING VISIT - -It must be remembered that Mary, among her miseries, had to suffer -this: that since Frank's departure, now nearly twelve months ago, she -had not heard a word about him; or rather, she had only heard that he -was very much in love with some lady in London. This news reached her -in a manner so circuitous, and from such a doubtful source; it seemed -to her to savour so strongly of Lady Arabella's precautions, that she -attributed it at once to malice, and blew it to the winds. It might -not improbably be the case that Frank was untrue to her; but she would -not take it for granted because she was now told so. It was more than -probable that he should amuse himself with some one; flirting was his -prevailing sin; and if he did flirt, the most would of course be made -of it. - -But she found it to be very desolate to be thus left alone without a -word of comfort or a word of love; without being able to speak to any -one of what filled her heart; doubting, nay, more than doubting, being -all but sure that her passion must terminate in misery. Why had she -not obeyed her conscience and her better instinct int hat moment when -the necessity for deciding had come upon her? Why had she allowed him -to understand that he was master of her heart? Did she not know that -there was everything against such a marriage as that which was -proposed? Had she not done wrong, very wrong, even to think of it? Had -she not sinned deeply, against Mr Gresham, who had ever been so kind to -her? Could she hope, was it possible, that a boy like Frank should be -true to his first love? And, if he were true, if he were ready to go -to the altar with her to-morrow, ought she to allow him to degrade -himself by such a marriage? - -There was, alas! some truth about the London lady. Frank had taken -his degree, as arranged, and had then gone abroad for the winter, doing -the fashionable things, going up the Nile, crossing over to Mount -Sinai, thence over the long desert to Jerusalem, and home by Damascus, -Beyrout, and Constantinople, bringing back a long beard, a red cap, and -a chibook, just as our fathers used to go through Italy and -Switzerland, and our grandfathers to spend a season in Paris. He had -then remained for a couple of months in London, going through all the -society which the De Courcys were able to open to him. And it was true -that a certain belle of the season, of that season and some others, had -been captivated--for the tenth time--by the silken sheens of his long -beard. Frank had probably been more demonstrative, perhaps, ever more -susceptible, than he should have been; and hence the rumour, which had -all too willingly been forwarded to Greshamsbury. - -But young Gresham had also met another lady in London, namely Miss -Dunstable. Mary would indeed have been grateful to Miss Dunstable, -could she have know all that lady did for her. Frank's love was never -allowed to flag. When he spoke of the difficulties in his way, she -twitted him by being overcome by straws; and told him that no one was -ever worth having who was afraid of every lion he met in his path. -When he spoke of money, she bade him earn it; and always ended by -offering to smooth for him any real difficulty which want of means -might put in his way. - -'No,' Frank used to say to himself, when these offers were made, 'I -never intended to take her and her money together; and, therefore, I -certainly will never take the money alone.' - -A day or two after Miss Oriel's visit, Mary received the following note -from Beatrice. - -'DEAREST, DEAREST MARY, - -'I shall be so happy to see you, and will come to-morrow at -twelve. I have asked mamma, and she says that, for once, she -has no objection. You know it is not my fault that I have -never been with you; don't you? Frank comes home on the -twelfth. Mr Oriel wants the wedding to be on the first of -September; but that seems to be so very, very soon; doesn't -it? However, mamma and papa are all on his side. I won't write -about this, though, for we shall have such a delicious talk. -Oh, Mary! I have been so unhappy without you. -'Ever your own affectionate, -TRICHY' - -Though Mary was delighted at the idea of once more having her friend in -her arms, there was, nevertheless, something in the letter which -oppressed her. She could not put up with the idea that Beatrice should -have permission given to come to her--just for once. She hardly wished -to be seen by permission. Nevertheless, she did not refuse the proffered -visit, and the first sight of Beatrice's face, the first touch of the -first embrace, dissipated for the moment her anger. - -And then Beatrice fully enjoyed the delicious talk which she had -promised herself. Mary let her have her way, and for two hours all the -delights and all the duties, all the comforts and all the -responsibilities of a parson's wife were discussed with almost equal -ardour on both sides. The duties and responsibilities were not exactly -those which too often fall to the lot of the mistress of an English -vicarage. Beatrice was not doomed to make her husband comfortable, to -educate her children, dress herself like a lady, and exercise -open-handed charity on an income of two hundred pounds a year. Her -duties and responsibilities would have to spread themselves over seven -or eight times that amount of worldly burden. Living also close to -Greshamsbury, and not far from Courcy Castle, she would have the full -advantage and all the privileges of county society. In fact, it was all -couleur de rose, and so she chatted deliciously with her friend. - -But it was impossible that they should separate without something having -been said as to Mary's own lot. It would, perhaps, have been better that -they should do so; but this was hardly within the compass of human -nature. - -'And Mary, you know, I shall be able to see you as often as I like;--you -and Dr Thorne, too, when I have a house of my own.' - -Mary said nothing, but essayed to smile. It was but a ghastly attempt. - -'You know how happy that will make me,' continued Beatrice. 'Of course -mamma won't expect me to be led by her then; if he likes it, there can -be no objection; and he will like it, you may be sure of that.' - -'You are very kind, Trichy,' said Mary; but she spoke in a tone very -different from that she would have used eighteen months ago. - -'Why, what is the matter, Mary? Shan't you be glad to come and see us?' - -'I do not know, dearest; that must depend on circumstances. To see you, -you yourself, your own dear, sweet, loving face must always be pleasant -to me.' - -'And shan't you be glad to see him?' - -'Yes, certainly, if he loves you.' - -'Of course he loves me.' - -'All that alone would be pleasant enough, Trichy. But what if there -should be circumstances which should still make us enemies; should make -your friends and my friends--friend, I should say, for I have only -one--should make them opposed to each other?' - -'Circumstances! What circumstances?' - -'You are going to be married, Trichy, to the man you love; are you not?' - -'Indeed I am!' - -'And it is not pleasant? is it not a happy feeling?' - -'Pleasant! happy! yes, very pleasant; very happy. But, Mary, I am not -at all in such a hurry as he is,' said Beatrice, naturally thinking of -her own little affairs. - -'And, suppose I should wish to be married to the man that I love?' Mary -said this slowly and gravely, and as she spoke she looked her friend -full in the face. - -Beatrice was somewhat astonished, and for the moment hardly understood. -'I am sure I hope you will some day.' - -'No, Trichy; no, you hope the other way. I love your brother; I love -Frank Gresham; I love him quite as well, quite as warmly, as you love -Caleb Oriel.' - -'Do you?' said Beatrice, staring with all her eyes, and giving one long -sigh, as this new subject for sorrow was so distinctly put before her. - -'It that so odd?' said Mary. 'You love Mr Oriel, though you have been -intimate with him hardly more than two years. Is it so odd that I should -love your brother, whom I have known almost all my life?' - -'But, Mary, I thought it was always understood between us that--that--I -mean that you were not to care about him; not in the way of loving him, -you know--I thought you always said so--I have always told mamma so as -if it came from yourself.' - -'Beatrice, do not tell anything to Lady Arabella as though it came from -me; I do not want anything to be told to her, either of me or from me. -Say what you like to me yourself; whatever you say will not anger me. -Indeed, I know what you would say--and yet I love you. Oh, I love you, -Trichy--Trichy, I do love you so much! Don't turn away from me!' - -There was such a mixture in Mary's manner of tenderness and almost -ferocity, that poor Beatrice could hardly follow her. 'Turn away from -you, Mary! no never; but this does make me unhappy.' - -'It is better that you should know it all, and then you will not be led -into fighting my battles again. You cannot fight them so that I should -win; I do love your brother; love him truly, fondly, tenderly. I would -wish to have him for my husband as you wish to have Mr Oriel.' - -'But, Mary, you cannot marry him!' - -'Why not?' said she, in a loud voice. 'Why can I not marry him? If the -priest says a blessing over us, shall we not be married as well as you -and your husband?' - -'But you know he cannot marry unless his wife shall have money.' - -'Money--money; and he is to sell himself for money? Oh, Trichy! do not -you talk about money. It is horrible. But, Trichy, I will grant it--I -cannot marry him; but still, I love him. He has a name, a place in the -world, and fortune, family, high blood, position, everything. He has all -this, and I have nothing. Of course I cannot marry him. But yet I do -love him.' - -'Are you engaged to him, Mary?' - -'He is not engaged to me; but I am to him.' - -'Oh, Mary, that is impossible!' - -'It is not impossible: it is the cast--I am pledged to him; but he is -not pledged to me.' - -'But, Mary, don't look at me in that way. I do not quite understand -you. What is the good of your being engaged if you cannot marry him?' - -'Good! there is no good. But can I help it, if I love him? Can I make -myself not love him by just wishing it? Oh, I would do it if I could. -But now you will understand why I shake my head when you talk of coming -to your house. Your ways and my ways must be different.' - -Beatrice was startled, and, for a time, silenced. What Mary said of the -difference of their ways was quite true. Beatrice had dearly loved her -friend, and had thought of her with affection through all this long -period in which they had been separated; but she had given her love and -her thoughts on the understanding, as it were, that they were in unison -as to the impropriety of Frank's conduct. - -She had always spoken, with a grave face, of Frank and his love as of a -great misfortune, even to Mary herself; and her pity for Mary had been -founded on the conviction of her innocence. Now all those ideas had to -be altered. Mary owned her fault, confessed herself to be guilty of all -that Lady Arabella so frequently laid to her charge, and confessed -herself anxious to commit every crime as to which Beatrice had been ever -so ready to defend her. - -Had Beatrice up to this dreamed that Mary was in love with Frank, she -would doubtless have sympathized with her more or less sooner or later. -As it was, is was beyond all doubt that she would soon sympathize with -her. But, at the moment, the suddenness of the declaration seemed to -harden her heart, and she forgot, as it were, to speak tenderly to her -friend. - -She was silent, therefore, and dismayed; and looked as though she -thought that her ways and Mary's ways must be different. - -Mary saw all that was passing in the other's mind: no, not all; all the -hostility, the disappointment, the disapproval, the unhappiness, she did -see; but not the under-current of love, which was strong enough to well -up and drown all these, if only time could be allowed for it to do so. - -'I am so glad to have told you,' said Mary, curbing herself, 'for deceit -and hypocrisy are detestable.' - -'It was a misunderstanding, not deceit,' said Beatrice. - -'Well, now we understand each other; now you know that I have a heart -within me, which like those of some others has not always been under my -own control. Lady Arabella believes that I am intriguing to be the -mistress of Greshamsbury. You, at any rate, will not think that of me. -If it could be discovered to-morrow that Frank were not the heir, I -might have some chance of happiness.' - -'But, Mary--' - -'Well?' - -'You say you love him.' - -'Yes; I do say so.' - -'But if he does not love you, will you cease to do so?' - -'If I have a fever, I will get rid of it if I can; in such a case I must -do so, or die.' - -'I fear,' continued Beatrice, 'you hardly know, perhaps do not think, -what is Frank's real character. He is not made to settle down early in -life; even now, I believe he is attached to some lady in London, whom, -of course, he cannot marry.' - -Beatrice had said this in perfect trueness of heart. She had heard of -Frank's new love-affair, and believing what she had heard, thought it -best to tell the truth. But the information was not of a kind to quiet -Mary's spirit. - -'Very well,' said she, 'let it be so. I have nothing to say against -it.' - -'But are you not preparing wretchedness and unhappiness for yourself?' - -'Very likely.' - -'Oh, Mary, do not be so cold with me! you know how delighted I should -be to have you for a sister-in-law, if only it were possible.' - -'Yes, Trichy; but it is impossible, is it not? Impossible that Francis -Gresham of Greshamsbury should disgrace himself by marrying such a poor -creature as I am. Of course I know it; of course, I am prepared for -unhappiness and misery. He can amuse himself as he likes with me or -others--with anybody. It is his privilege. It is quite enough to say -that he is not made for settling down. I know my own position;--and yet -I love him.' - -'But, Mary, has he asked you to be his wife? If so--' - -'You ask home-questions, Beatrice. Let me ask you one; has he ever told -you that he has done so?' - -At this moment Beatrice was not disposed to repeat all that Frank had -said. A year ago, before he went away, he had told his sister a score of -times that he meant to marry Mary Thorne if she would have him; but -Beatrice now looked on all that as idle, boyish vapouring. The pity was, -that Mary should have looked on it differently. - -'We will each keep our secret,' said Mary. 'Only remember this: should -Frank marry to-morrow, I shall have no ground for blaming him. He is -free as far I as am concerned. He can take the London lady if he likes. -You may tell him so from me. But, Trichy, what else I have told you, I -have told you only.' - -'Oh, yes!' said Beatrice, sadly; 'I shall say nothing of it to anybody. -It is very sad, very, very; I was so happy when I came here, and now I -am so wretched.' This was the end of that delicious talk to which she -had looked forward with so much eagerness. - -'Don't be wretched about me, dearest; I shall get through it. I -sometimes think I was born to be unhappy, and that unhappiness agrees -with me best. Kiss me now, Trichy, and don't be wretched any more. You -owe it to Mr Oriel to be as happy as the day is long.' - -And then they parted. - -Beatrice, as she went out, saw Dr Thorne in his little shop on the -right-hand side of the passage deeply engaged in some derogatory branch -of an apothecary's mechanical trade; mixing a dose, perhaps, for a -little child. She would have passed him without speaking, if she could -have been sure of doing so without notice, for her heart was full, and -her eyes were red with tears; but it was so long since she had been in -his house that she was more than ordinarily anxious not to appear -uncourteous or unkind to him. - -'Good morning, doctor,' she said, changing her countenance as best she -might, and attempting a smile. - -'Ah, my fairy!' said he, leaving his villainous compounds, and coming -out to her; 'and you, too, are about to become a steady old lady.' - -'Indeed, I am not, doctor; I don't mean to be either steady or old, for -the next ten years. But who has told you? I suppose Mary has been a -traitor.' - -'Well, I will confess Mary was the traitor. But hadn't I a right to be -told, seeing how often I have brought you sugar-plums in my pocket? But -I wish you joy with all my heart--with all my heart. Oriel is an -excellent, good fellow.' - -'Is he not, doctor?' - -'An excellent, good fellow. I never heard but of one fault that he -had.' - -'What was that one fault, Doctor Thorne?' - -'He thought that clergymen should not marry. But you have cured that, -and now he's perfect.' - -'Thank you, doctor. I declare that you say the prettiest things of all -my friends.' - -'And none of your friends wish prettier things for you. I do -congratulate you, Beatrice, and hope you may be happy with the man you -have chosen;' and taking both her hands in his, he pressed them warmly, -and bade God bless her. - -'Oh, doctor! I do so hope the time will come when we shall all be -friends again.' - -'I hope it as well, my dear. But let it come, or let it not come, my -regard for you will be the same:' and then she parted from him also, and -went her way. - -Nothing was spoken of that evening between Dr Thorne and his niece -excepting Beatrice's future happiness; nothing, at least, having -reference to what had passed that morning. But on the following morning, -circumstances led to Frank Gresham's name being mentioned. - -At the usual breakfast-hour the doctor entered the parlour with a -harassed face. He had an open letter in his hand, and it was at once -clear to Mary that he was going to speak on some subject that vexed him. - -'That unfortunate fellow is again in trouble. Here is a letter from -Greyson.' Greyson was a London apothecary, who had been appointed as -medical attendant to Sir Louis Scatcherd, and whose real business -consisted in keeping a watch on the baronet, and reporting to Dr Thorne -when anything was very much amiss. 'Here is a letter from Greyson; he -has been drunk for the last three days, and is now laid up in a terribly -nervous state.' - -'You won't go up to town again; will you, uncle?' - -'I hardly know what to do. No, I think not. He talks of coming down -here to Greshamsbury.' - -'Who, Sir Louis?' - -'Yes, Sir Louis. Greyson says that he will be down as soon as he can -get out of his room.' - -'What! to this house?' - -'What other home can he come to?' - -'Oh, uncle! I hope not. Pray, pray do not let him come here.' - -'I cannot prevent it, dear. I cannot shut my door on him.' - -They sat down to breakfast, and Mary gave him his tea in silence. 'I am -going over to Boxall Hill before dinner,' said he. 'Have you any message -to send to Lady Scatcherd?' - -'Message! no, I have no message; not especially: give her my love, of -course,' she said listlessly. And then, as though a thought had suddenly -struck her, she spoke with more energy. 'But, couldn't I go to Boxall -Hill again? I should be so delighted.' - -'What! to run away from Sir Louis? No, dearest, we will have no more -running away. He will probably also go to Boxall Hill, and he could -annoy you much more there than he can here.' - -'But, uncle, Mr Gresham will be home on the twelfth,' she said, -blushing. - -'What! Frank?' - -'Yes. Beatrice said he was to be here on the twelfth.' - -'And would you run away from him too, Mary?' - -'I do not know: I do not know what to do.' - -'No; we will have no more running away: I am sorry that you ever did so. -It was my fault, altogether my fault; but it was foolish.' - -'Uncle, I am not happy here.' As she said this, she put down the cup -which she had held, and, leaning her elbows on the table, rested her -forehead on her hands. - -'And would you be happier at Boxall Hill? It is not the place that -makes the happiness.' - -'No, I know that; it is not the place. I do not look to be happy in any -place; but I should be quieter, more tranquil elsewhere than here.' - -'I also sometimes think that it would be better for us to take up our -staves and walk away from Greshamsbury;--leave it altogether, and settle -elsewhere; miles, miles, miles away from here. Should you like that, -dearest?' - -Miles, miles, miles away from Greshamsbury! There was something in the -sound that fell very cold on Mary's ears, unhappy as she was. -Greshamsbury had been so dear to her; in spite of all that had passed, -was still so dear to her! Was she prepared to take up her staff, as her -uncle said, and walk forth from the place with the full understanding -that she was to return to it no more; with a mind resolved that there -should be an inseparable gulf between her and its inhabitants? Such she -knew was the proposed nature of the walking away of which her uncle -spoke. So she sat there, resting on her arms, and gave no answer to the -question that had been put to her. - -'No, we will stay here a while yet,' said her uncle. 'It may come to -that, but this is not the time. For one season longer let us face--I -will not say our enemies; I cannot call anybody my enemy who bears the -name of Gresham.' And then he went on for a moment with his breakfast. -'So Frank will be here on the twelfth?' - -'Yes, uncle.' - -'Well, dearest, I have no questions to ask you; no directions to give. I -know how good you are, and how prudent; I am anxious only for your -happiness; not at all--' - -'Happiness, uncle, is out of the question.' - -'I hope not. It is never out of the question, never can be out of the -question. But, as I was saying, I am quite satisfied your conduct will -be good, and, therefore, I have no questions to ask. We will remain -here; and, whether good or evil come, we will not be ashamed to show our -faces.' - -She sat for a while again silent; collecting her courage on the subject -that was nearest her heart. She would have given the world that he -should ask her questions; but she could not bid him to do so; and she -found it impossible to talk openly to him about Frank unless he did so. -'Will he come here?' at last she said, in a low-toned voice. - -'Who? He, Louis? Yes, I think that in all probability he will.' - -'No; but Frank,' she said, in a still lower voice. - -'Ah! my darling, that I cannot tell; but will it be well that he should -come here?' - -'I do not know,' she said. 'No, I suppose not. But, uncle, I don't -think he will come.' - -She was now sitting on a sofa, away from the table, and he got up sat -down beside her, and took her hands in his. 'Mary,' said he, 'you must -be strong now; strong to endure, not to attack. I think that you have -that strength; but, if not, perhaps it will be better that we should go -away.' - -'I will be strong,' said she, rising up and going towards the door. -'Never mind me, uncle; don't follow me; I will be strong. It will be -base, cowardly, mean to run away; very base in me to make you do so.' - -'No, dearest, not so; it will be the same to me.' - -'No,' said she, 'I will not run away from Lady Arabella. And, as for -him--if he loves this other one, he shall hear no reproach from me. -Uncle, I will be strong;' and running back to him, she threw her arms -around him and kissed him. And, still restraining her tears, she got -safely to her bedroom. In what way she may there have shown her -strength, it would not be well for us to inquire. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV - -A BAROUCHE AND FOUR ARRIVES AT GRESHAMSBURY - -During the last twelve months Sir Louis Scatcherd had been very -efficacious in bringing trouble, turmoil, and vexation upon -Greshamsbury. Now that it was too late to take steps to save himself, Dr -Thorne found that the will left by Sir Roger was so made as to entail -upon him duties that he would find it almost impossible to perform. Sir -Louis, though his father had wished to make him still a child in the eye -of the law, was no child. He knew his own rights and was determined to -exact them; and before Sir Roger had been dead three months, the doctor -found himself in continual litigation with a low Barchester attorney, -who was acting on behalf of his, the doctor's, own ward. - -And if the doctor suffered so did the squire, and so did those who had -hitherto had the management of the squire's affairs. Dr Thorne soon -perceived that he was to be driven into litigation, not only with Mr -Finnie, the Barchester attorney, but with the squire himself. While -Finnie harassed him, he was compelled to harass Mr Gresham. He was no -lawyer himself; and though he had been able to manage very well between -the squire and Sir Roger, and had perhaps given himself some credit for -his lawyer-like ability in so doing, he was utterly unable to manage -between Sir Louis and Mr Gresham. - -He had, therefore, to employ a lawyer on his own account, and it seemed -probable that the whole amount of Sir Roger's legacy to himself would by -degrees be expended in this manner. And then the squire's lawyers had to -take up the matter; and they did so greatly to the detriment of poor Mr -Yates Umbleby, who was found to have made a mess of the affairs -entrusted to him. Mr Umbleby's accounts were incorrect; his mind was -anything but clear, and he confessed, when put to it by the very sharp -gentleman that came down from London, that he was 'bothered'; and so, -after a while, he was suspended from his duties, and Mr Gazebee, the -sharp gentleman from London, reigned over the diminished rent-roll of -the Greshamsbury estate. - -Thus everything was going wrong at Greshamsbury--with the one exception -of Mr Oriel and his love-suit. Miss Gushing attributed the deposition of -Mr Umbleby to the narrowness of the victory which Beatrice had won in -carrying off Mr Oriel. For Miss Gushing was a relation of the Umblebys, -and had been for many years one of their family. 'If she had only chosen -to exert herself as Miss Gresham had done, she could have had Mr Oriel, -easily; oh, too easily! but she had despised such work,' so she said. -'But though she had despised it, the Greshams had not been less -irritated, and, therefore, Mr Umbleby had been driven out of his house.' -We can hardly believe this, as victory generally makes men generous. -Miss Gushing, however, stated it as a fact so often that it is probable -she was induced to believe it herself. - -Thus everything was going wrong at Greshamsbury, and the squire himself -was especially a sufferer. Umbleby had at any rate been his own man, and -he could do what he liked with him. He could see him when he liked, and -where he liked, and now he liked; could scold him if in an ill-humour, -and laugh at him when in a good humour. All this Mr Umbleby knew, and -bore. But Mr Gazebee was a very different sort of gentleman; he was the -junior partner in the firm of Gumption, Gazebee & Gazebee of Mount -Street, a house that never defiled itself with any other business than -the agency business, and that in the very highest line. They drew out -leases, and managed property both for the Duke of Omnium and Lord De -Courcy; and ever since her marriage, it had been one of the objects -dearest to Lady Arabella's heart that the Greshamsbury acres should be -superintended by the polite skill and polished legal ability of that all -but elegant firm in Mount Street. - -The squire had long stood firm, and had delighted in having everything -done under his own eye by poor Mr Yates Umbleby. But now, alas! he could -stand it no longer. He had put off the evil day as long as he could; he -had deferred the odious work of investigation till things had seemed -resolved on investigating themselves; and then, when it was absolutely -necessary that Mr Umbleby should go, there was nothing for him left but -to fall into the ready hands of Messrs Gumption, Gazebee and Gazebee. - -It must not be supposed that Messrs Gumption, Gazebee and Gazebee were -in the least like the ordinary run of attorneys. They wrote no letters -for six-and-eightpence each: they collected no debts, filed no bills, -made no charge per folio for 'whereases' and 'as aforesaids'; they did -no dirty work, and probably were as ignorant of the interior of a court -of law as any young lady living in their Mayfair vicinity. No; their -business was to manage the property of great people, draw up leases, -make legal assignments, get the family marriage settlements made, and -look after wills. Occasionally, also, they had to raise money; but it -was generally understood that this was done by proxy. - -The firm had been going on for a hundred and fifty years, and the -designation had often been altered; but it always consisted of Gumptions -and Gazebees differently arranged, and no less hallowed names had ever -been permitted to appear. It had been Gazebee, Gazebee and Gumption; -then Gazebee and Gumption; then Gazebee, Gumption and Gumption; then -Gumption, Gumption and Gazebee; and now it was Gumption, Gazebee and -Gazebee. - -Mr Gazebee, the junior member of this firm, was a very elegant young -man. While looking at him riding in Rotten Row, you would hardly have -taken him for an attorney; and had he heard that you had so taken him, -he would have been very much surprised indeed. He was rather bald; not -being, as people say, quite so young as he was once. His exact age was -thirty-eight. But he had a really remarkable pair of jet-black whiskers, -which fully made up for his deficiency as to his head; he had also dark -eyes, and a beaked nose, what may be called a distinguished mouth, and -was always dressed in fashionable attire. The fact was, that Mr Mortimer -Gazebee, junior partner in the firm Gumption, Gazebee, and Gazebee, by -no means considered himself to be made of that very disagreeable -material which mortals call small beer. - -When this great firm was applied to get Mr Gresham through his -difficulties, and when the state of his affairs was made known to them, -they at first expressed rather a disinclination for the work. But at -last, moved doubtless by their respect for the De Courcy interest, they -assented; and Mr Gazebee, junior, went down to Greshamsbury. The poor -squire passed many a sad day after that before he again felt himself to -be master even of his own domain. - -Nevertheless, when Mr Mortimer Gazebee visited Greshamsbury, which he -did on more than one or two occasions, he was always received en grand -seigneur. To Lady Arabella he was by no means an unwelcome guest, for -she found herself able, for the first time in her life, to speak -confidentially on her husband's pecuniary affairs with the man who had -the management of her husband's property. Mr Gazebee also was a pet with -Lady De Courcy; and being known to be a fashionable man in London, and -quite a different sort of person from poor Mr Umbleby, he was always -received with smiles. He had a hundred little ways of making himself -agreeable, and Augusta declared to her cousin, the Lady Amelia, after -having been acquainted with him for a few months, that he would be a -perfect gentleman, only, that his family had never been anything but -attorneys. The Lady Amelia smiled in her own peculiarly aristocratic -way, shrugged her shoulders slightly, and said, 'that Mr Mortimer -Gazebee was a very good sort of person, very.' Poor Augusta felt herself -snubbed, thinking perhaps of the tailor's son; but as there was never -any appeal against the Lady Amelia, she said nothing more at that moment -in favour of Mr Mortimer Gazebee. - -All these evils--Mr Mortimer Gazebee being the worst of them--had Sir -Louis Scatcherd brought down on the poor squire's head. There may be -those who will say that the squire had brought them on himself, by -running into debt; and so, doubtless, he had; but it was not the less -true that the baronet's interference was unnecessary, vexatious, and one -might almost say, malicious. His interest would have been quite safe in -the doctor's hands, and he had, in fact, no legal right to meddle; but -neither the doctor nor the squire could prevent him. Mr Finnie knew very -well what he was about, if Sir Louis did not; and so the three went on, -each with his own lawyer, and each of them distrustful, unhappy, and ill -at ease. This was hard upon the doctor, for he was not in debt, and had -borrowed no money. - -There was not much reason to suppose that the visit of Sir Louis to -Greshamsbury would much improve matters. It must be presumed that he was -not coming with any amicable views, but with the object rather of -looking after his own; a phrase which was now constantly in his mouth. -He might probably find it necessary while looking after his own at -Greshamsbury, to say some very disagreeable things to the squire; and -the doctor, therefore, hardly expected that the visit would go off -pleasantly. - -When last he saw Sir Louis, now nearly twelve months since, he was -intent on making a proposal of marriage to Miss Thorne. This intention -he carried out about two days after Frank Gresham had done the same -thing. He had delayed doing so till he had succeeded in purchasing his -friend Jenkins's Arab pony, imagining that such a present could not but -go far in weaning Mary's heart from her other lover. Poor Mary was put -to the trouble of refusing both the baronet and the pony, and a very bad -time she had of it while doing so. Sir Louis was a man easily angered, -and not very easily pacified, and Mary had to endure a good deal of -annoyance; from any other person, indeed, she would have called it -impertinence. Sir Louis, however, had to bear his rejection as best he -could, and, after a perseverance of three days, returned to London in -disgust; and Mary had not seen him since. - -Mr Greyson's first letter was followed by a second; and the second was -followed by the baronet in person. He also required to be received en -grand seigneur, perhaps more imperatively than Mr Mortimer Gazebee -himself. He came with four posters from the Barchester Station, and had -himself rattled up to the doctor's door in a way that took the breath -away from all Greshamsbury. Why! the squire himself for a many long year -had been contented to come home with a pair of horses; and four were -never seen in the place, except when the De Courcys came to -Greshamsbury, or Lady Arabella, with all her daughters returned from her -hard-fought metropolitan campaigns. - -Sir Louis, however, came with four, and very arrogant looked, leaning -back in the barouche belonging to the George and Dragon, and wrapped up -in fur, although it was now midsummer. And up in the dicky behind was a -servant, more arrogant, if possible, than his master--the baronet's own -man, who was the object of Dr Thorne's special detestation and disgust. -He was a little fellow, chosen originally on account of his light weight -on horseback; but if that may be considered a merit, it was the only one -he had. His out-door show dress was a little tight frock-coat, round -which a polished strap was always buckled tightly, a stiff white choker, -leather breeches, top-boots, and a hat, with a cockade, stuck on one -side of his head. His name was Jonah, which his master and his master's -friends shortened to Joe; none, however, but those who were very -intimate with his master were allowed to do so with impunity. - -This Joe was Dr Thorne's special aversion. In his anxiety to take every -possible step to keep Sir Louis from poisoning himself, he had at first -attempted to enlist the baronet's 'own man' in the cause. Joe had -promised fairly, but had betrayed the doctor at once, and had become the -worst instrument of his master's dissipation. When, therefore, his hat -and the cockade were seen, as the carriage dashed up to the door, the -doctor's contentment was by no means increased. - -Sir Louis was now twenty-three years old, and was a great deal too -knowing to allow himself to be kept under the doctor's thumb. It had, -indeed, become his plan to rebel against his guardian in almost -everything. He had at first been decently submissive, with the view of -obtaining increased supplies of ready money; but he had been sharp -enough to perceive that, let his conduct be what it would, the doctor -would keep him out of debt; but that the doing so took so large a sum -that he could not hope for any further advances. In this respect Sir -Louis was perhaps more keen-witted than Dr Thorne. - -Mary, when she saw the carriage, at once ran up to her own bedroom. The -doctor, who had been with her in the drawing-room, went down to meet his -ward, but as soon as he saw the cockade he darted almost involuntarily -into his shop and shut the door. This protection, however, lasted only -for a moment; he felt that decency required him to meet his guest, and -so he went forth and faced the enemy. - -'I say,' said Joe, speaking to Janet, who stood curtsying at the gate, -with Bridget, the other maid, behind her, 'I say, are there any chaps -about the place to take the things--eh? come, look sharp here.' - -It so happened that the doctor's groom was not on the spot, and 'other -chaps' the doctor had none. - -'Take those things, Bridget,' he said, coming forward and offering his -hand to the baronet. Sir Louis, when he saw his host, roused himself -slowly from the back of his carriage. 'How do, doctor?' said he. 'What -terrible bad roads you have here! and, upon my word, it's as cold as -winter:' and, so saying, he slowly proceeded to descend. - -Sir Louis was a year older than when we last saw him, and, in his -generation, a year wiser. He had then been somewhat humble before the -doctor; but now he was determined to let his guardian see that he knew -how to act the baronet; that he had acquired the manners of a great man; -and that he was not to be put upon. He had learnt some lessons from -Jenkins in London, and other friends of the same sort, and he was about -to profit by them. - -The doctor showed him to his room, and then proceeded to ask after his -health. 'Oh, I'm right enough,' said Sir Louis. 'You mustn't believe all -that fellow Greyson tells you: he wants me to take salts and senna, -opodeldoc, and all that sort of stuff; looks after his bill, you -know--eh? like all the rest of you. But I won't have it;--not at any -price; and then he writes to you.' - -'I'm glad to see you are able to travel,' said Dr Thorne, who could not -force himself to tell his guest that he was glad to see him at -Greshamsbury. - -'Oh, travel; yes, I can travel well enough. But I wish you had some -better sort of trap down in these country parts. I'm shaken to bits. -And, doctor, would you tell your people to send that fellow of mine up -here with hot water. - -So dismissed, the doctor went his way, and met Joe swaggering in one of -the passages, while Janet and her colleague dragged along between them a -heavy article of baggage. - -'Janet,' said he, 'go downstairs and get Sir Louis some hot water, and -Joe, do you take hold of your master's portmanteau.' - -Joe sulkily did as he was bid. 'Seems to me,' said he, turning to the -girl, and speaking before the doctor was out of hearing, 'seems to me, -my dear, you be rather short-handed here; lots of work and nothing to -get; that's about the ticket, ain't it?' Bridget was too demurely modest -to make any answer upon so short an acquaintance; so, putting her end of -the burden down at the strange gentleman's door, she retreated into the -kitchen. - -Sir Louis in answer to the doctor's inquiries, had declared himself to -be all right; but his appearance was anything but all right. Twelve -months since, a life of dissipation, or rather, perhaps, a life of -drinking, had not had upon him so strong an effect but that some of the -salt of youth was still left; some of the freshness of young years might -still be seen in his face. But this was now all gone; his eyes were -sunken and watery, his cheeks were hollow and wan, his mouth was drawn -and his lips dry; his back was even bent, and his legs were unsteady -under him, so that he had been forced to step down from his carriage as -an old man would do. Alas, alas! he had no further chance now of ever -being all right again. - -Mary had secluded herself in her bedroom as soon as the carriage had -driven up to the door, and there she remained till dinner-time. But she -could not shut herself up altogether. It would be necessary that she -should appear at dinner; and, therefore, a few minutes before the hour, -she crept out into the drawing-room. As she opened the door, she looked -in timidly, expecting Sir Louis to be there; but when she saw that her -uncle was the only occupant of the room, her brow cleared, and she -entered with a quick step. - -'He'll come down to dinner; won't he, uncle?' - -'Oh, I suppose so.' - -'What's he doing now?' - -'Dressing, I suppose; he's been at this hour.' - -'But, uncle--' - -'Well?' - -'Will he come up after dinner, do you think?' - -Mary spoke of him as though he were some wild beast, whom her uncle -insisted on having in his house. - -'Goodness knows what he will do! Come up? Yes. He will not stay in -the dining-room all night.' - -'But, dear uncle, do be serious.' - -'Serious!' - -'Yes; serious. Don't you think that I might go to bed, instead of -waiting?' - -The doctor was saved the trouble of answering by the entrance of the -baronet. He was dressed in what he considered the most fashionable style -of the day. He had on a new dress-coat lined with satin, new -dress-trousers, a silk waistcoat covered with chains, a white cravat, -polished pumps, and silk stockings, and he carried a scented -handkerchief in his hand; he had rings on his fingers, and carbuncle -studs in his shirt, and he smelt as sweet as patchouli could make him. -But he could hardly do more than shuffle into the room, and seemed -almost to drag one of his legs behind him. - -Mary, in spite of her aversion, was shocked and distressed when she saw -him. He, however, seemed to think himself perfect, and was no whit -abashed by the unfavourable reception which twelve months since had been -paid to his suit. Mary came up and shook hands with him, and he received -her with a compliment which no doubt he thought must be acceptable. -'Upon my word, Miss Thorne, every place seems to agree with you; one -better than another. You were looking charming at Boxall Hill; but, upon -my word, charming isn't half strong enough now.' - -Mary sat down quietly, and the doctor assumed a face of unutterable -disgust. This was the creature for whom all his sympathies had been -demanded, all his best energies put in requisition; on whose behalf he -was to quarrel with his oldest friends, lose his peace and quietness of -life, and exercise all the functions of a loving friend! This was his -self-invited guest, whom he was bound to foster, and whom he could not -turn from his door. - -The dinner came, and Mary had to put her hand upon his arm. She -certainly did not lean upon him, and once or twice felt inclined to give -him some support. They reached the dining-room, however, the doctor -following them, and then sat down, Janet waiting in the room, as was -usual. - -'I say, doctor,' said the baronet, 'hadn't my man better come in and -help? He's got nothing to do, you know. We should be more cosy, -shouldn't we?' - -'Janet will manage pretty well,' said the doctor. - -'Oh, you'd better have Joe; there's nothing like a good servant at -table. I say, Janet, just send that fellow in, will you?' - -'We shall do very well without him,' said the doctor, becoming rather -red about the cheek-bones, and with a slight gleam of determination -about the eye. Janet, who saw how matters stood, made no attempt to obey -the baronet's order. - -'Oh, nonsense, doctor; you think he's an uppish sort of fellow, I know, -and you don't like to trouble him; but when I'm near him, he's all -right; just send him in, will you?' - -'Sir Louis,' said the doctor, 'I'm accustomed to none but my own old -woman here in my own house, and if you will allow me, I'll keep my old -ways. I shall be sorry if you are not comfortable.' The baronet said -nothing more, and the dinner passed off slowly and wearily enough. - -When Mary had eaten her fruit and escaped, the doctor got into one -arm-chair and the baronet into another, and the latter began the only -work of existence of which he knew anything. - -'That's good port,' said he; 'very fair port.' - -The doctor loved his port wine, and thawed a little in his manner. He -loved it not as a toper, but as a collector loves his pet pictures. He -liked to talk about it, and think about it; to praise it, and hear it -praised; to look at it turned towards the light, and to count over the -years it had lain in his cellar. - -'Yes,' said he, 'it's pretty fair wine. It was, at least, when I got -it, twenty years ago, and I don't suppose time has hurt it;' and he held -the glass up to the window, and looked at the evening light through the -rosy tint of the liquid. 'Ah, dear, there's not much of it left; more's -the pity.' - -'A good thing won't last for ever. I'll tell you what now; I wish I had -brought down a dozen or two of claret. I've some prime stuff in London; -got it from Muzzle and Drug, at ninety-six shillings; it was a great -favour, though. I'll tell you what now, I'll send up for a couple of -dozen to-morrow. I mustn't drink you out of the house, high and dry; -must I, doctor?' - -The doctor froze immediately. - -'I don't think I need trouble you,' said he; 'I never drink claret, at -least not here; and there's enough of the old bin left to last some -little time longer yet.' - -Sir Louis drank two or three glasses of wine very quickly after each -other, and they immediately began to tell upon his weak stomach. But -before he was tipsy, he became more impudent and more disagreeable. - -'Doctor,' said he, 'when are we going to see any of this Greshamsbury -money? That's what I want to know.' - -'Your money is quite safe, Sir Louis; and the interest is paid to the -day.' - -'Interest yes; but how do I know how long it will be paid? I should -like to see the principal. A hundred thousand pounds, or something like -it, is a precious large stake to have in one man's hands, and he is -preciously hard up himself. I'll tell you what, doctor--I shall look the -squire up myself.' - -'Look him up?' - -'Yes; look him up; ferret him out; tell him a bit of my mind. I'll thank -you to pass the bottle. D--- me doctor; I mean to know how things are -going on.' - -'Your money is quite safe,' repeated the doctor, 'and, to my mind, could -not be better invested.' - -'That's all very well; d--- well I dare say, for you and Squire -Gresham--' - -'What do you mean, Sir Louis?' - -'Mean! why I mean that I'll sell the squire up; that's what I -mean--hallo--beg pardon. I'm blessed if I haven't broken the water-jug. -That comes of having water on the table. Oh, d---- me, it's all over -me.' And then, getting up, to avoid the flood he himself had caused, he -nearly fell into the doctor's arms. - -'You're tired with your journey, Sir Louis; perhaps you'd better go to -bed.' - -'Well, I am a bit seedy or so. Those cursed roads of yours shake a -fellow so.' - -The doctor rang the bell, and, on this occasion, did request that Joe -might be sent for. Joe came in, and, though he was much steadier than -his master, looked as though he also had found some bin of which he had -approved. - -'Sir Louis wishes to go to bed,' said the doctor; 'you had better give -him your arm.' - -'Oh, yes; in course I will,' said Joe, standing immoveable about -half-way between the door and the table. - -'I'll just take one more glass of the old port--eh, doctor?' said Sir -Louis, putting out his hand and clutching the decanter. - -It is very hard for any man to deny his guest in his own house, and the -doctor, at the moment, did not know how to do it; so Sir Louis got his -wine, after pouring half of it over the table. - -'Come in, sir, and give Sir Louis your arm,' said the doctor, angrily. - -'So I will in course, if my master tells me; but, if you please, Dr -Thorne--' and Joe put his hand up to his hair in a manner that a great -deal more impudence than reverence in it--'I just want to ax one -question; where be I to sleep?' - -Now this was a question which the doctor was not prepared to answer on -the spur of the moment, however well Janet or Mary might have been able -to do so. - -'Sleep,' said he, 'I don't know where you are to sleep, and don't care; -ask Janet.' - -'That's all very well, master--' - -'Hold your tongue, sirrah!' said Sir Louis. 'What the devil do you want -of sleep?--come here,' and then, with his servant's help, he made his -way up to his bedroom, and was no more heard of that night. - -'Did he get tipsy,' asked Mary, almost in a whisper, when her uncle -joined her in the drawing-room. - -'Don't talk of it,' said he. 'Poor wretch! poor wretch! Let's have -some tea now, Molly, and pray don't talk any more about him to-night.' -Then Mary did make the tea, and did not talk any more about Sir Louis -that night. - -What on earth were they to do with him? He had come there self-invited; -but his connexion with the doctor was such, that it was impossible he -should be told to go away, either he himself, or that servant of his. -There was no reason to disbelieve him when he declared that he had come -down to ferret out the squire. Such was, doubtless, his intention. He -would ferret out the squire. Perhaps he might ferret out Lady Arabella -also. Frank would be home in a few days; and he, too, might be ferreted -out. - -But the matter took a very singular turn, and one quite unexpected on -the doctor's part. On the morning following the little dinner of which -we have spoken, one of the Greshamsbury grooms rode up to the doctor's -door with two notes. One was addressed to the doctor in the squire's -well-known large handwriting, and the other was for Sir Louis. Each -contained an invitation do dinner for the following day; and that to the -doctor was in this wise:- - -'DEAR DOCTOR, - -Do come and dine here to-morrow, and bring Sir Louis Scatcherd with you. -If you're the man I take you to be, you won't refuse me. Lady Arabella -sends a note for Sir Louis. There will be nobody here but Oriel, and Mr -Gazebee, who's staying in the house. - -'Yours ever, F.N.GRESHAM' - -'PS--I make a positive request that you'll come, and I think you will -hardly refuse me.' - -The doctor read it twice before he could believe it, and then ordered -Janet to take the other note up to Sir Louis. As these invitations were -rather in opposition to the then existing Greshamsbury tactics, the -cause of Lady Arabella's special civility must be explained. - -Mr Mortimer Gazebee was now at the house, and therefore, it must be -presumed, that things were not allowed to go on after their old fashion. -Mr Gazebee was an acute as well as fashionable man; one who knew what he -was about, and who, moreover, had determined to give his very best -efforts on behalf of the Greshamsbury property. His energy, in this -respect, will explain itself hereafter. It was not probable that the -arrival in the village of such a person as Sir Louis Scatcherd should -escape attention. He had heard of it before dinner, and, before the -evening was over, had discussed it with Lady Arabella. - -Her ladyship was not at first inclined to make much of Sir Louis, and -expressed herself as but little inclined to agree with Mr Gazebee when -that gentleman suggested that he should be treated with civility at -Greshamsbury. But she was at last talked over. She found it pleasant -enough to have more to do with the secret management of the estate than -Mr Gresham himself; and when Mr Gazebee proved to her, by sundry nods -and winks, and subtle allusions to her own infinite good sense, that it -was necessary to catch this obscene bird which had come to prey upon the -estate, by throwing a little salt upon his tail, she also nodded and -winked, and directed Augusta to prepare the salt according to order. - -'But won't it be odd, Mr Gazebee, asking him out of Dr Thorne's house?' - -'Oh, we must have the doctor, too, Lady Arabella; by all means ask the -doctor also.' - -Lady Arabella's brow grew dark. 'Mr Gazebee,' she said, 'you can hardly -believe how that man has behaved to me.' - -'He is altogether beneath your anger,' said Mr Gazebee, with a bow. - -'I don't know: in one way he may be, but not in another. I really do -not think I can sit down to table with Doctor Thorne.' - -But, nevertheless, Mr Gazebee gained his point. It was now about a week -since Sir Omicron Pie had been at Greshamsbury, and the squire had, -almost daily, spoken to his wife as to that learned man's advice. Lady -Arabella always answered in the same tone: 'You can hardly know, Mr -Gresham, how that man has insulted me.' But, nevertheless, the -physician's advice had not been disbelieved: it tallied too well with -her own inward convictions. She was anxious enough to have Doctor Thorne -back at her bedside, if she could only get him there without damage to -her pride. Her husband, she thought, might probably send the doctor -there without absolute permission from herself; in which case she would -have been able to scold, and show that she was offended; and, at the -same time, profit by what had been done. But Mr Gresham never thought of -taking so violent a step as this, and, therefore, Dr Fillgrave still -came, and her ladyship's finesse was wasted in vain. - -But Mr Gazebee's proposition opened a door by which her point might be -gained. 'Well,' said she, at last, with infinite self-denial, 'if you -think it is for Mr Gresham's advantage, and if he chooses to ask Dr -Thorne, I will not refuse to receive him.' - -Mr Gazebee's next task was to discuss the matter with the squire. Nor -was this easy, for Mr Gazebee was no favourite with Mr Gresham. But the -task was at last performed successfully. Mr Gresham was so glad at heart -to find himself able, once more, to ask his old friend to his own house; -and, though it would have pleased him better that this sign of relenting -on his wife's part should have reached him by other means, he did not -refuse to take advantage of it; and so he wrote the above letter to Dr -Thorne. - -The doctor, as we have said, read it twice; and he at once resolved -stoutly that he would not go. - -'Oh, do, do, do go!' said Mary. She well knew how wretched this feud -had made her uncle. 'Pray, pray go!' - -'Indeed, I will not,' said he. 'There are some things a man should -bear, and some he should not.' - -'You must go,' said Mary, who had taken the note from her uncle's hand, -and read it. 'You cannot refuse him when he asks you like that.' - -'It will greatly grieve me; but I must refuse him.' - -'I also am angry, uncle; very angry with Lady Arabella; but for him, for -the squire, I would go to him on my knees if he asked me in that way.' - -'Yes; and had he asked you, I also would have gone.' - -'Oh! now I shall be so wretched. It is his invitation, not hers: Mr -Gresham could not ask me. As for her, do not think of her; but do, do go -when he asks you like that. You will make me so miserable if you do not. -And then Sir Louis cannot go without you,'--and Mary pointed -upstairs--'and you may be sure that he will go.' - -'Yes; and make a beast of himself.' - -This colloquy was cut short by a message praying the doctor to go up to -Sir Louis's room. The young man was sitting in his dressing-gown, -drinking a cup of coffee at his toilet-table, while Joe was preparing -his razor and hot water. The doctor's nose immediately told him that -there was more in the coffee-cup than had come out of his own kitchen, -and he would not let the offence pass unnoticed. - -'Are you taking brandy this morning, Sir Louis?' - -'Just a little chasse-cafe,' said he, not exactly understanding the word -he used. 'It's all the go now; and a capital thing for the stomach.' - -'It's not a capital thing for your stomach;--about the least capital -thing you can take; that is, if you wish to live.' - -'Never mind about that now, doctor, but look here. This is what we call -the civil thing--eh?' and he showed the Greshamsbury note. 'Not but that -they have an object, of course. I understand all that. Lots of girls -there--eh?' - -The doctor took the note and read it. 'It is civil,' said he; 'very -civil.' - -'Well; I shall go, of course. I don't bear malice because he can't pay -me the money he owes me. I'll eat his dinner, and look at the girls. -Have you an invite too, doctor?' - -'Yes; I have.' - -'And you'll go?' - -'I think not; but that need not deter you. But, Sir Louis--' - -'Well! eh! what is it?' - -'Step downstairs a moment,' said the doctor, turning to the servant, -'and wait till you are called for. I wish to speak to your master.' Joe, -for a moment, looked up at the baronet's face, as though he wanted but -the slightest encouragement to disobey the doctor's orders; but not -seeing it, he slowly retired, and placed himself, of course, at the -keyhole. - -And then, the doctor began a long and very useless lecture. The first -object of it was to induce his ward not to get drunk at Greshamsbury; -but having got so far, he went on, and did succeed in frightening his -unhappy guest. Sir Louis did not possess the iron nerves of his -father--nerves which even brandy had not been able to subdue. The doctor -spoke, strongly, very strongly; spoke of quick, almost immediate death -in case of further excesses; spoke to him of the certainty there would -be that he could not live to dispose of his own property if he could not -refrain. And thus he did frighten Sir Louis. The father he had never -been able to frighten. But there are men who, though they fear death -hugely, fear present suffering more; who, indeed, will not bear a moment -of pain if there by any mode of escape. Sir Louis was such: he had no -strength of nerve, no courage, no ability to make a resolution and keep -it. He promised the doctor that he would refrain; and, as he did so, he -swallowed down his cup of coffee and brandy, in which the two articles -bore about equal proportions. - -The doctor did, at last, make up his mind to go. Whichever way he -determined, he found that he was not contented with himself. He did not -like to trust Sir Louis by himself, and he did not like to show that he -was angry. Still less did he like the idea of breaking bread in Lady -Arabella's house till some amends had been made to Mary. But his heart -would not allow him to refuse the petition contained in the squire's -postscript, and the matter ended in his accepting the invitation. - -This visit of his ward's was, in every way, pernicious to the doctor. He -could not go about his business, fearing to leave such a man alone with -Mary. On the afternoon of the second day, she escaped to the parsonage -for an hour or so, and then, walked away among the lanes, calling on -some of her old friends among the farmers' wives. But even then, the -doctor was afraid to leave Sir Louis. What could such a man do, left -alone in a village like Greshamsbury? So he stayed at home, and the two -together went over their accounts. The baronet was particular about his -accounts, and said a good deal as to having Finnie over to Greshamsbury. -To this, however, Dr Thorne positively refused his consent. - -The evening passed off better than the preceding one; at least the early -part of it. Sir Louis did not get tipsy; he came up to tea, and Mary, -who did not feel so keenly on the subject as her uncle, almost wished -that he had done so. At ten o'clock he went to bed. - -But after that new troubles came on. The doctor had gone downstairs -into his study to make up some of the time which he had lost, and had -just seated himself at his desk, when Janet, without announcing herself, -burst into the room; and Bridget, dissolved in hysterical tears, with -her apron to her eyes, appeared behind the senior domestic. - -'Please, sir,' said Janet, driven by excitement much beyond her usual -place of speaking, and becoming unintentionally a little less respectful -than usual, 'please sir, that 'ere young man must go out of this here -house; or else no respectable young 'ooman can't stop here; no, indeed, -sir; and we be sorry to trouble you, Dr Thorne; so we be.' - -'What young man? Sir Louis?' asked the doctor. - -'Man!' sobbed Bridget from behind. 'He an't no man, no nothing like a -man. If Tummas had been here, he wouldn't have dared; so he wouldn't.' -Thomas was the groom, and, if all Greshamsbury reports were true, it was -probable, that on some happy, future day, Thomas and Bridget would -become one flesh and one bone. - -'Please sir,' continued Janet, 'there'll be bad work here if there 'ere -young man doesn't quit this here house this very night, and I'm sorry to -trouble you, doctor; and so I am. But Tom, he be given to fight a'most -for nothin'. He's out now; but if that there young man be's here when -Tom comes home, Tom will be punching his head; I know he will.' - -'He wouldn't stand by and see a poor girl put upon; no more he -wouldn't,' said Bridget, through her tears. - -After many futile inquiries, the doctor ascertained that Mr Jonah had -expressed some admiration for Bridget's youthful charms, and had, in the -absence of Janet, thrown himself at the lady's feet in a manner which -had not been altogether pleasing to her. She had defended herself -stoutly and loudly, and in the middle of the row Janet had come down. - -'And where is he now?' said the doctor. - -'Why, sir,' said Janet, 'the poor girl was so put about that she did -give him one touch across the face with the rolling-pin, and he be all -bloody now, in the back kitchen.' At hearing this achievement of hers -thus spoken of, Bridget sobbed more hysterically than ever; but the -doctor, looking at her arm as she held her apron to her face, thought in -his heart that Joe must have had so much the worst of it, that there -could be no possible need for the interference of Thomas the groom. - -And such turned out to be the case. The bridge of Joe's nose was -broken; and the doctor had to set it for him in a little bedroom at the -village public-house, Bridget having positively refused to go to bed in -the same house with so dreadful a character. - -'Quiet now, or I'll be serving thee the same way; thee see I've found -the trick of it.' The doctor could not but hear so much as he made into -his own house by the back door, after finishing his surgical operation. -Bridget was recounting to her champion the fracas that had occurred; and -he, as was so natural, was expressing his admiration for her valour. - - - -CHAPTER XXXV - -SIR LOUIS GOES OUT TO DINNER - -The next day Joe did not make his appearance, and Sir Louis with many -execrations, was driven to the terrible necessity of dressing himself. -Then came an unexpected difficulty: how were they to get up to the -house? Walking out to dinner, though it was merely through the village -and up the avenue seemed to Sir Louis to be a thing impossible. Indeed, -he was not well able to walk at all, and positively declared that he -should never be able to make his way over the gravel in pumps. His -mother would not have thought half as much of walking from Boxall Hill -to Greshamsbury and back again. At last, the one village fly was sent -for, and the matter was arranged. - -When they reached the house, it was easy to see that there was some -unwonted bustle. In the drawing-room there was no one but Mr Mortimer -Gazebee, who introduced himself to them both. Sir Louis, who knew that -he was only an attorney, did not take much notice of him, but the doctor -entered into conversation. - -'Have you not heard that Mr Gresham has come home?' - -'Mr Gresham! I did not know that he had been away.' - -'Mr Gresham, junior, I mean.' No, indeed; the doctor had not heard. -Frank had returned unexpectedly, just before dinner, and was now -undergoing his father's smiles, his mother's embraces, and his sisters' -questions. - -'Quite unexpectedly,' said Mr Gazebee. 'I don't know what has brought -him back before his time. I suppose he found London too hot.' - -'Deuced hot,' said the baronet. 'I found it so, at least. I don't know -what keeps men in London when it's so hot; except those fellows who have -business to do: they're paid for it.' - -Mr Mortimer Gazebee looked at him. He was managing an estate which owed -Sir Louis an enormous sum of money, and, therefore, he could not afford -to despise the baronet; but he thought to himself, what a very abject -fellow the man would be if he were not a baronet, and had not a large -fortune! - -And the squire came in. His broad, honest face was covered with a smile -when he saw the doctor. - -'Thorne,' said he, almost in a whisper, 'you're the best fellow -breathing; I have hardly deserved this.' The doctor, as he took his old -friend's hand, could not but be glad that he had followed Mary's -counsel. - -'So Frank has come home?' - -'Oh, yes; quite unexpectedly. He was to have stayed a week longer in -London. You would hardly know him if you met him. Sir Louis, I beg your -pardon.' And the squire went up to his other guest, who had remained -somewhat sullenly standing in one corner of the room. He was the man of -highest rank present, or to be present, and he expected to be treated as -such. - -'I am happy to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Mr -Gresham,' said the baronet, intending to be very courteous. 'Though we -have not met before, I very often see your name in my accounts--ha! ha! -ha!' and Sir Louis laughed as though he had said something very good. - -The meeting between Lady Arabella and the doctor was rather distressing -to the former; but she managed to get over it. She shook hands with him -graciously, and said that it was a fine day. The doctor said that it was -fine, only perhaps a little rainy. And then they went into different -parts of the room. - -When Frank came in, the doctor hardly did know him. His hair was darker -than it had been, and so was his complexion; but his chief disguise was -in a long silken beard, which hung down over his cravat. The doctor had -hitherto not been much in favour of long beards, but he could not deny -that Frank looked very well with the appendage. - -'Oh, doctor, I am so delighted to find you here,' said he, coming up to -him; 'so very, very glad:' and, taking the doctor's arm, he led him away -into a window, where they were alone. 'And how is Mary?' said he, almost -in a whisper. 'Oh, I wish she were here! But, doctor, it shall all come -in time. But tell me, doctor, there is no news about her, is there?' - -'News--what news?' - -'Oh, well; no news is good news: you will give her my love, won't you?' - -The doctor said that he would. What else could he say? It appeared -quite clear to him that some of Mary's fears were groundless. - -Frank was again very much altered. It has been said, that though he was -a boy at twenty-one, he was a man at twenty-two. But now, at -twenty-three, he appeared to be almost a man of the world. His manners -were easy, his voice under his control, and words were at his command: -he was no longer either shy or noisy; but, perhaps, was open to the -charge of seeming, at least, to be too conscious of his own merits. He -was, indeed, very handsome; tall, manly, and powerfully built, his form -was such as women's eyes have ever loved to look upon. 'Ah, if he would -but marry money!' said Lady Arabella to herself, taken up by a mother's -natural admiration for her son. His sisters clung around him before -dinner, all talking to him at once. How proud a family of girls are of -one, big, tall, burly brother! - -'You don't mean to tell me, Frank, that you are going to eat soup with -that beard?' said the squire, when they were seated round the table. He -had not ceased to rally his son as to this patriarchal adornment; but, -nevertheless, any one could have seen, with half and eye, that he was as -proud of it as were the others. - -'Don't I, sir? All I require is a relay of napkins for every course;' -and he went to work, covering it with every spoonful, as men with beards -always do. - -'Well, if you like it!' said the squire, shrugging his shoulders. - -'But I do like it,' said Frank. - -'Oh, papa, you wouldn't have him cut it off,' said one of the twins. 'It -is so handsome.' - -'I should like to work it into a chair-back instead of floss-silk,' said -the other twin. - -'Thank 'ee, Sophy; I'll remember you for that.' - -'Doesn't it look nice, and grand, and patriarchal?' said Beatrice, -turning to her neighbour. - -'Patriarchal, certainly,' said Mr Oriel. 'I should grow one myself if I -had not the fear of the archbishop before my eyes.' - -What was next said to him was in a whisper, audible only to himself. - -'Doctor, did you know Wildman of the Ninth. He was left as surgeon at -Scutari for two years. Why, my beard to his is only a little down.' - -'A little way down, you mean,' said Mr Gazebee. - -'Yes,' said Frank, resolutely set against laughing at Mr Gazebee's pun. -'Why, his beard descends to his ankles, and he is obliged to tie it in a -bag at night, because his feet get entangled in it when he is asleep!' - -'Oh, Frank!' said one of the girls. - -This was all very well for the squire, and Lady Arabella, and the girls. -They were all delighted to praise Frank, and talk about him. Neither did -it come amiss to Mr Oriel and the doctor, who had both a personal -interest in the young hero. But Sir Louis did not like it at all. He was -the only baronet in the room, and yet nobody took any notice of him. He -was seated in the post of honour, next to Lady Arabella; but even Lady -Arabella seemed to think more of her own son than of him. Seeing he was -ill-used, he meditated revenge; but not the less did it behove him to -make some effort to attract attention. - -'Was your ladyship in London, this season?' - -Lady Arabella had not been in London at all this year, and it was a sore -subject with her. 'No,' said she, very graciously; 'circumstances have -kept us at home.' - -'Ah, indeed! I am very sorry for that; that must be very distressing to -a person like your ladyship. But things are mending, perhaps?' - -Lady Arabella did not in the least understand him. 'Mending!' she said, -in her peculiar tone of aristocratic indifference; and then turned to Mr -Gazebee, who was on the other side of her. - -Sir Louis was not going to stand this. He was the first man in the -room, and he knew his own importance. It was not to be borne that Lady -Arabella should turn to talk to a dirty attorney, and leave him, a -baronet, to eat his dinner without notice. If nothing else would move -her, he would let her know who was the real owner of the Greshamsbury -title-deeds. - -'I think I saw your ladyship out to-day, taking a ride,' Lady Arabella -had driven through the village in her pony-chair. - -'I never ride,' said she, turning her head for one moment from Mr -Gazebee. - -'In the one-horse carriage, I mean, my lady. I was delighted with the -way you whipped him up round the corner.' - -Whipped him up round the corner! Lady Arabella could make no answer to -this; so she went on talking to Mr Gazebee. Sir Louis, repulsed, but not -vanquished-resolved not to be vanquished by any Lady Arabella-- turned -his attention to his plate for a minute or two, and then recommenced. - -'The honour of a glass of wine with you, Lady Arabella,' said he.' - -'I never take wine at dinner,' said Lady Arabella. The man was becoming -intolerable to her, and she was beginning to fear that it would be -necessary for her to fly the room to get rid of him. - -The baronet was again silent for a moment; but he was determined not to -be put down. - -'This is a nice-looking country about her,' said he. - -'Yes; very nice,' said Mr Gazebee, endeavouring to relieve the lady of -the mansion. - -'I hardly know which I like best; this, or my own place at Boxall Hill. -You have the advantage here in trees, and those sort of things. But, as -to the house, why, my box there is very comfortable, very. You'd hardly -know the place now, Lady Arabella, if you haven't seen it since my -governor bought it. How much do you think he spent about the house and -grounds, pineries included, you know, and those sort of things.' - -Lady Arabella shook her head. - -'Now guess, my lady,' said he. But it was not to be supposed that Lady -Arabella should guess on such a subject. - -'I never guess,' said she, with a look of ineffable disgust. - -'What do you say, Mr Gazebee?' - -'Perhaps a hundred thousand pounds.' - -'What! for a house! You can't know much about money, nor yet about -building, I think, Mr Gazebee.' - -'Not much,' said Mr Gazebee, 'as to such magnificent places as Boxall -Hill.' - -'Well, my lady, if you won't guess, I'll tell you. It cost twenty-two -thousand four hundred and nineteen pounds four shillings and eightpence. -I've all the accounts exact. Now, that's a tidy lot of money for a house -for a man to live in.' - -Sir Louis spoke this in a loud tone, which at least commanded the -attention of the table. Lady Arabella, vanquished, bowed her head, and -said that it was a large sum; Mr Gazebee went on sedulously eating his -dinner; the squire was struck momentarily dumb in the middle of a long -chat with the doctor; even Mr Oriel ceased to whisper; and the girls -opened their eyes with astonishment. Before the end of his speech, Sir -Louis's voice had become very loud. - -'Yes, indeed,' said Frank; 'a very tidy lot of money. I'd have -generously dropped the four and eightpence if I'd been the architect.' - -'It wasn't on one bill; but that's the tot. I can show the bills;' and -Sir Louis, well pleased with his triumph, swallowed a glass of wine. - -Almost immediately after the cloth was removed, Lady Arabella escaped, -and the gentlemen clustered together. Sir Louis found himself next to Mr -Oriel, and began to make himself agreeable. - -'A very nice girl, Miss Beatrice; very nice.' - -Now Mr Oriel was a modest man, and, when thus addressed as to his future -wife, found it difficult to make any reply. - -'You parsons always have your own luck,' said Sir Louis. 'You get all -the beauty, and generally all the money, too. Not much of the latter in -this case, though--eh?' - -Mr Oriel was dumbfounded. He had never said a word any creature as to -Beatrice's dowry; and when Mr Gresham had told him, with sorrow, that -his daughter's portion must be small, he had at once passed away from -the subject as one that was hardly fit for conversation, even between -him and his future father-in-law; and now he was abruptly questioned on -the subject by a man he had never seen before in his life. Of course, he -could make no answer. - -'The squire has muddled his matters most uncommonly,' continued Sir -Louis, filling his glass for the second time before he passed the -bottle. 'What do you suppose now he owes me alone; just at one lump, you -know?' - -Mr Oriel had nothing for it but to run. He could make no answer, nor -would he sit there for tidings as to Mr Gresham's embarrassments. So he -fairly retreated, without having said one word to his neighbour, finding -such discretion to be the only kind of valour left to him. - -'What, Oriel! off already?' said the squire. 'Anything the matter?' - -'Oh, no; nothing particular. I'm not just quite--I think I will go out -for a few minutes.' - -'See what it is to be in love,' said the squire, half-whispering to Dr -Thorne. 'You're not in the same way, I hope?' - -Sir Louis then shifted his seat again, and found himself next to Frank. -Mr Gazebee was opposite to him, and the doctor opposite to Frank. - -'Parson seems peekish, I think,' said the baronet. - -'Peekish!?' said the squire, inquisitively. - -'Rather down on his luck. He's decently well off himself, isn't he?' - -There was another pause, and nobody seemed inclined to answer the -question. - -'I mean, he's got something more than his bare living.' - -'Oh, yes,' said Frank, laughing. 'He's got what will buy him bread and -cheese when the Rads shut up the Church:--unless, indeed, they shut up -the Funds too.' - -'Ah, there's nothing like land,'said Sir Louis: 'nothing like dirty -acres; is there, squire?' - -'Land is a very good investment, certainly,' said the Mr Gresham. - -'The best going,' said the other, who was now, as people say when they -mean to be good-natured, slightly under the influence of liquor. 'The -best going--eh, Gazebee?' - -Mr Gazebee gathered himself up, and turned away his head, looking out of -the window. - -'You lawyers never like to give an opinion without money, ha! ha! ha! Do -they, Mr Gresham? You and I have had to pay for plenty of them, and will -have to pay plenty more before they let us alone.' - -Here Mr Gazebee got up, and followed Mr Oriel out of the room. He was -not, of course, on such intimate terms in the house as was Mr Oriel; but -he hoped to be forgiven by the ladies in consequence of the severity of -the miseries to which he was subjected. He and Mr Oriel were soon to be -seen through the dining-room window, walking about the grounds with the -two eldest Miss Greshams. And Patience Oriel, who had also been of the -party, was also to be seen with the twins. Frank looked at his father -with almost a malicious smile, and began to think that he too might be -better employed out among the walks. Did he think then of a former -summer evening, when he had half broken Mary's heart by walking there -too lovingly with Patience Oriel? - -Sir Louis, if he continued his brilliant career of success, would soon -be left the cock of the walk. The squire, to be sure, could not bolt, -nor could the doctor very well; but they might be equally vanquished, -remaining there in their chairs. Dr Thorne, during all this time, was -sitting with tingling ears. Indeed, it may be said that his whole body -tingled. He was in a manner responsible for this horrible scene; but -what could he do to stop it? He could not take Sir Louis up bodily and -carry him away. One idea did occur to him. The fly had been ordered for -ten o'clock. He could rush out and send for it instantly. - -'You're not going to leave me?' said the squire, in a voice of horror, -as he saw the doctor rising from his chair. - -'Oh, no, no, no,' said the doctor; and then he whispered the purpose of -his mission. 'I will be back in two minutes.' The doctor would have -given twenty pounds to have closed the scene at once; but he was not the -man to desert his friend in such a strait as that. - -'He's a well-meaning fellow, the doctor,' said Sir Louis, when his -guardian was out of the room, 'very; but he's not up to trap--not at -all.' - -'Up to trap--well, I should say he was; that is, if I know what trap -means,' said Frank. - -'Ah, but that's just the ticket. Do you know? Now I say Dr Thorne's -not a man of the world.' - -'He's about the best man I know, or ever heard of,' said the squire. -'And if any man ever had a good friend, you have got one in him; and so -have I:' and the squire silently drank the doctor's health. - -'All very true, I dare say; but yet he's not up to trap. Now look here, -squire--' - -'If you don't mind, sir,' said Frank, 'I've got something very -particular--perhaps, however--' - -'Stay till Thorne returns, thanks Frank.' - -Frank did stay till Thorne returned, and then escaped. - -'Excuse me, doctor,' said he, 'but I've something very particular to -say; I'll explain to-morrow.' And then the three were left alone. - -Sir Louis was no becoming almost drunk, and was knocking his words -together. The squire had already attempted to stop the bottle; but the -baronet had contrived to get hold of a modicum of Madeira, and there was -no preventing him from helping himself; at least, none at the moment. - -'As we were saying about lawyers,' continued Sir Louis. 'Let's see, -what were we saying? Why, squire, it's just here. These fellows will -fleece us both if we don't mind what we are after.' - -'Never mind about lawyers now,' said Dr Thorne, angrily. - -'Ah, but I do mind; most particularly. That's all very well for you, -doctor; you've nothing to lose. You've no great stake in the matter. -Why, now, what sum of money of mine do you think those d---- doctors are -handling?' - -'D---- doctors!' said the squire in a tone of dismay. - -'Lawyers, I mean, of course. Why, now, Gresham, we're all totted now, -you see; you're down in my books, I take it, for pretty near a hundred -thousand pounds.' - -'Hold your tongue, sir,' said the doctor, getting up. - -'Hold my tongue!' said Sir Louis. - -'Sir Louis Scatcherd,' said the squire, slowly rising from his chair, -'we will not, if you please, talk about business at the present moment. -Perhaps we had better go to the ladies.' - -This latter proposition had certainly not come from the squire's heart: -going to the ladies was the very last thing for which Sir Louis was now -fit. But the squire had said it as being the only recognised formal way -he could think of for breaking up the symposium. - -'Oh, very well,' hiccupped the baronet, 'I'm always ready for the -ladies,' and he stretched out his hand to the decanter to get a last -glass of Madeira. - -'No,' said the doctor, rising stoutly, and speaking with a determined -voice. 'No; you will have no more wine.' - -'What's all this about?' said Sir Louis, with a drunken laugh. - -'Of course he cannot go into the drawing-room, Mr Gresham. If you will -leave him here with me, I will stay with him, till the fly comes. Pray -tell Lady Arabella from me how sorry I am that this has occurred.' - -The squire took him by the hand affectionately. 'I've seen a tipsy man -before to-night,' said he. - -'Yes,' said the doctor, 'and so have I, but--' He did not express the -rest of his thoughts. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI - -WILL HE COME AGAIN? - -Long before the doctor returned home after the little dinner-party above -described, Mary had learnt that Frank was already at Greshamsbury. She -had heard nothing of him, not a word, nothing in the shape of a message, -for twelve months; and at her age twelve months is a long period. Would -he come and see her in spite of his mother? Would he send her any -tidings of is return, or notice her in any way? If he did not, what -would she do? and if he did, what then would she do? It was so hard to -resolve; so hard to be deserted; and so hard to dare to wish that she -might not be deserted! She continued to say to herself, that it would be -better that they should be strangers; and she could hardly keep herself -from tears in the fear that they might be so. What chance could there be -that he should care for her, after an absence spent in travelling over -the world? No; she would forget that affair of his hand; and then, -immediately after having so determined, she would confess to herself -that it was a thing not to be forgotten, and impossible of oblivion. - -On her uncle's return, she would hear some word about him; and so she -sat alone, with a book before her, of which she could not read a line. -She expected them about eleven, and was, therefore, rather surprised -when the fly stopped at the door before nine. - -She immediately heard her uncle's voice, loud and angry, calling for -Thomas. Both Thomas and Bridget were unfortunately out, being, at this -moment, forgetful of all sublunary cares, and seated in happiness under -a beech-tree in the park. Janet flew to the little gate, and there found -Sir Louis insisting that he would be taken at once to his own mansion at -Boxall Hill, and positively swearing that he would not longer submit to -the insult of the doctor's surveillance. - -In the absence of Thomas, the doctor was forced to apply for assistance -to the driver of the fly. Between them the baronet was dragged out of -the vehicle, the windows suffered much, and the doctor's hat also. In -this way, he was taken upstairs, and was at last put to bed, Janet -assisting: nor did the doctor leave the room till his guest was asleep. -Then he went into the drawing-room to Mary. It may easily be conceived -that he was hardly in a humour to talk much about Frank Gresham. - -'What am I to do with him?' said he, almost in tears: 'what am I to do -with him?' - -'Can you send him to Boxall Hill?' asked Mary. - -'Yes; to kill himself there! But it is no matter; he will kill himself -somewhere. Oh! what that family have done for me!' And then, suddenly -remembering a portion of their doings, he took Mary in his arms, and -kissed and blessed her; and declared that, in spite of all this, he was -a happy man. - -There was no word about Frank that night. The next morning the doctor -found Sir Louis very weak, and begging for stimulants. He was worse than -weak; he was in such a state of wretched misery and mental prostration; -so low in heart, in such collapse of energy and spirit, that Dr Thorne -thought it prudent to remove his razors from his reach. - -'For God's sake do let me have a little chasse-cafe; I'm always used to -it; ask Joe if I'm not! You don't want to kill me, do you?' And the -baronet cried piteously, like a child, and, when the doctor left him for -the breakfast-table, abjectly implored Janet to get him some curacoa -which he knew was in one of his portmanteaus. Janet, however, was true -to her master. - -The doctor did give him some wine; and then, having left strict orders -as to his treatment--Bridget and Thomas being now both in the -house--went forth to some of his too much neglected patients. - -Then Mary was again alone, and her mind flew away to her lover. How -should she be able to compose herself when she should first see him? See -him she must. People cannot live in the same village without meeting. If -she passed him at the church-door, as she often passed Lady Arabella, -what should she do? Lady Arabella always smiled a peculiar, little, -bitter smile, and this, with half a nod of recognition, carried off the -meeting. Should she try the bitter smile, the half-nod with Frank? Alas! -she knew it was not in her to be so much mistress of her own heart's -blood. - -As she thus thought, she stood in the drawing-room window, looking out -into her garden; and, as she leant against the sill, her head was -surrounded by the sweet creepers. 'At any rate, he won't come here,' she -said: and so, with a deep sigh, she turned from the window into the -room. - -There he was, Frank Gresham himself standing there in her immediate -presence, beautiful as Apollo. Her next thought was how she might escape -from out of his arms. How it happened that she had fallen into them, she -never knew. - -'Mary! my own, own love! my own one! sweetest! dearest! best! Mary! dear -Mary! have you not a word to say to me?' - -No; she had not a word, though her life depended on it. The exertion -necessary for not crying was quite enough for her. This, then, was the -bitter smile and the half-nod that was to pass between them; this was -the manner in which estrangement was to grow into indifference; this was -the mode of meeting by which she was to prove that she was mistress of -her conduct, if not her heart! There he held her close bound to his -breast, and she could only protect her face, and that all ineffectually, -with her hands. 'He loves another,' Beatrice had said. 'At any rate, he -will not love me,' her own heart had said also. Here now was the answer. - -'You know you cannot marry him,' Beatrice had said, also. Ah! if that -really were so, was not this embrace deplorable for them both? And yet -how could she not be happy? She endeavoured to repel him; but with what -a weak endeavour! Her pride had been wounded to the core, not by Lady -Arabella's scorn, but by the conviction which had grown on her, that -though she had given her own heart absolutely away, had parted with it -wholly and for ever, she had received nothing in return. The world, her -world, would know that she had loved, and loved in vain. But here now -was the loved one at her feet; the first moment that his enforced -banishment was over, had brought him here. How could she not be happy? - -They all said that she could not marry him. Well, perhaps it might be -so; nay, when she thought of it, must not that edict too probably be -true? But if so, it would not be his fault. He was true to her, and that -satisfied her pride. He had taken from her, by surprise, a confession of -her love. She had often regretted her weakness in allowing him to do so; -but she could not regret it now. She could endure to suffer; nay, it -would not be suffering while he suffered with her. - -'Not one word, Mary? Then after all my dreams, after all my patience, -you do not love me at last?' - -Oh, Frank! notwithstanding what has been said in thy praise, what a -fool thou art! Was any word necessary for thee? Had not her heart beat -against thine? Had she not borne thy caresses? Had there been one touch -of anger when she warded off thy threatened kisses? Bridget, in the -kitchen, when Jonah became amorous, smashed his nose with the -rolling-pin. But when Thomas sinned, perhaps as deeply, she only talked -of doing so. Miss Thorne, in the drawing-room, had she needed -self-protection, could doubtless have found the means, though the -process would probably have been less violent. - -At last Mary succeeded in her efforts at enfranchisement, and she and -Frank stood at some little distance from each other. She could not but -marvel at him. That long, soft beard, which just now had been so close -to her face, was all new; his whole look was altered; his mien, and -gait, and very voice were not the same. Was this, indeed, the very Frank -who had chattered of his boyish love, two years since, in the gardens at -Greshamsbury? - -'Not one word of welcome, Mary?' - -'Indeed, Mr Gresham, you are welcome home.' - -'Mr Gresham! Tell me, Mary--tell me at once--has anything happened? I -could not ask up there.' - -'Frank,' she said, and then stopped; not being able at the moment to get -any further. - -'Speak to me honestly, Mary; honestly and bravely. I offered you my -hand once before; there it is again. Will you take it?' - -She looked wistfully up in his eyes; and would fain have taken it. But -though a girl may be honest in such a case, it is so hard for her to be -brave. - -He still held out his hand. 'Mary,' said he, 'if you can value it, it -shall be yours through good fortune or ill fortune. There may be -difficulties; but if you can love me, we will get over them. I am a free -man; free to do as I please with myself, except so far as I am bound to -you. There is my hand. Will you have it?' And then he, too, looked into -her eyes, and waited composedly, as though determined to have an answer. - -She slowly raised her hand, and, as she did so, her eyes fell to the -ground. It then drooped again, and was again raised; and, at last, her -light tapering fingers rested on his broad open palm. - -They were soon clutched, and the whole hand brought absolutely within -his grasp. 'There, now you are my own!' he said, 'and none of them shall -part us; my own Mary, my own wife.' - -'Oh, Frank, is not this imprudent? Is it not wrong?' - -'Imprudent! I am sick of prudence. I hate prudence. And as for -wrong--no. I say it is not wrong; certainly not wrong if we love each -other. And you do love me, Mary--eh? You do! don't you?' - -He would not excuse her, or allow her to escape from saying it in so -many words; and when the words did come at last, they came freely. 'Yes, -Frank, I do love you; if that were all you would have no cause for -fear.' - -'And I will have no cause for fear.' - -'Ah; but your father, Frank, and my uncle. I can never bring myself to -do anything that shall bring either of them to sorrow.' - -Frank, of course, ran through all his arguments. He would go into a -profession, or take a farm and live in it. He would wait; that is, for a -few months. 'A few months, Frank!' said Mary. 'Well, perhaps six.' 'Oh, -Frank!' But Frank would not be stopped. He would do anything that his -father might ask him. Anything but the one thing. He would not give up -the wife he had chosen. It would not be reasonable, or proper, or -righteous that he should be asked to do so; and here he mounted a -somewhat high horse. - -Mary had no arguments which she could bring from her heart to offer in -opposition of all this. She could only leave her hand in his, and feel -that she was happier than she had been at any time since the day of the -donkey-ride at Boxall Hill. - -'But, Mary,' continued he, becoming very grave and serious. 'We must be -true to each other, and firm in this. Nothing that any of them can say -shall drive me from my purpose; will you say as much?' - -Her hand was still in his, and so she stood, thinking for a moment -before she answered him. But she could not do less for him than he was -willing to do for her. 'Yes,' said she--said in a very low voice, and -with a manner perfectly quiet--'I will be firm. Nothing that they can -say shall shake me. But, Frank, it cannot be soon.' - -Nothing further occurred in this interview which needs recording. Frank -had been three times told by Mary that he had better go before he did -go; and, at last, she was obliged to take the matter into her own hands, -and lead him to the door. - -'You are in a great hurry to get rid of me,' said he. - -'You have been here two hours, and you must go now; what will they -think?' - -'Who cares what they think? Let them think the truth: that's after a -year's absence, I have much to say to you.' However, at last, he did go, -and Mary was left alone. - -Frank, although he had been so slow to move, had a thousand other things -to do, and went about them at once. He was very much in love, no doubt; -but that did not interfere with his interest in other pursuits. In the -first place, he had to see Harry Baker, and Harry Baker's stud. Harry -had been specially charged to look after the black horse during Frank's -absence, and the holiday doings of that valuable animal had to be -inquired into. Then the kennel of the hounds had to be visited, and--as -a matter of second-rate importance--the master. This could not be done -on the same day; but a plan for doing so must be concocted with -Harry--and then there were the two young pointer pups. - -Frank, when he left his betrothed, went about these things quite as -vehemently as though he were not in love at all; quite as vehemently as -though he had said nothing as to going into some profession which must -necessarily separate him from horses and dogs. But Mary sat there at her -window, thinking of her love, and thinking of nothing else. It was all -in all to her now. She had pledged herself not to be shaken from her -troth by anything, by any person; and it would behove her to be true to -this pledge. True to it, though all the Greshams but one should oppose -her with all their power; true to it, even though her own uncle should -oppose her. - -And how could she have done any other than to pledge herself, invoked to -it as she had been? How could she do less for him than he was so anxious -to do for her? They would talk to her of maiden delicacy, and tell her -that she had put a stain on that snow-white coat of proof, in confessing -her love for one whose friends were unwilling to receive her. Let them -so talk. Honour, honesty, and truth, out-spoken truth, self-denying -truth, and fealty from man to man, are worth more than maiden delicacy; -more, at any rate, than the talk of it. It was not for herself that this -pledge had been made. She knew her position, and the difficulties of it; -she knew also the value of it. He had much to offer, much to give; she -had nothing but herself. He had name, and old repute, family, honour, -and what eventually would at least be wealth to her. She was nameless, -fameless, portionless. He had come there with all his ardour, with the -impulse of his character, and asked her for her love. It was already his -own. He had then demanded her troth, and she acknowledged that he had a -right to demand it. She would be his if ever it should be in his power -to take her. - -But there let the bargain end. She would always remember, that though -it was in her power to keep her pledge, it might too probably not be in -his power to keep his. That doctrine, laid down so imperatively by the -great authorities of Greshamsbury, that edict, which demanded that Frank -should marry money, had come home also to her with a certain force. It -would be sad that the fame of Greshamsbury should perish, and that the -glory should depart from the old house. It might be, that Frank also -should perceive that he must marry money. It would be a pity that he had -not seen it sooner; but she, at any rate, would not complain. - -And so she stood, leaning on the open window, with her book unnoticed -lying beside her. The sun had been in the mid-sky when Frank had left -her, but its rays were beginning to stream into the room from the west -before she moved from her position. Her first thought in the morning had -been this: Would he come to see her? Her last now was more soothing to -her, less full of absolute fear: Would it be right that he should come -again? - -The first sounds she heard were the footsteps of her uncle, as he came -up to the drawing-room, three steps at a time. His step was always -heavy; but when he was disturbed in spirit, it was slow; when merely -fatigued in body by ordinary work, it was quick. - -'What a broiling day!' he said, and he threw himself into a chair. 'For -mercy's sake, give me something to drink.' Now the doctor was a great -man for summer-drinks. In his house, lemonade, currant-juice, -orange-mixtures, and raspberry-vinegar were used by the quart. He -frequently disapproved of these things for his patients, as being apt to -disarrange the digestion; but he consumed enough himself to throw a -large family into such difficulties. - -'Ha-a!' he ejaculated after a draught; 'I'm better now. Well, what's -the news?' - -'You've been out, uncle; you ought to have the news. How's Mrs Green?' - -'Really as bad as ennui and solitude can make her.' - -'And Mrs Oaklerath?' - -'She's getting better, because she has ten children to look after, and -twins to suckle. What has he been doing?' And the doctor pointed towards -the room occupied by Sir Louis. - -Mary's conscience struck her that she had not even asked. She had -hardly remembered, during the whole day, that the baronet was in the -house. 'I do not think he has been doing much,' she said. 'Janet has -been with him all day.' - -'Has he been drinking?' - -'Upon my word, I don't know, uncle. I think not, for Janet has been -with him. But, uncle--' - -'Well, dear--but just give me a little more of that tipple.' - -Mary prepared the tumbler, and as she handed it to him, she said, 'Frank -Gresham has been here to-day.' - -The doctor swallowed his draught, and put down the glass before he made -any reply, and even then he said but little. - -'Oh! Frank Gresham.' - -'Yes, uncle.' - -'You thought him looking pretty well?' - -'Yes, uncle; he was very well, I believe.' - -Dr Thorne had nothing more to say, so he got up and went to his patient -in the next room. - -'If he disapproves of it, why does he not say so?' said Mary to herself. -'Why does he not advise me?' - -But it was not so easy to give advice while Sir Louis Scatcherd was -lying there in that state. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII - -SIR LOUIS LEAVES GRESHAMSBURY - -Janet had been sedulous in her attentions to Sir Louis, and had not -troubled her mistress; but she had not had an easy time of it. Her -orders had been, that either she or Thomas should remain in the room the -whole day, and those orders had been obeyed. - -Immediately after breakfast, the baronet had inquired after his own -servant. 'His confounded nose must be right by this time, I suppose?' - -'It was very bad, Sir Louis,' said the old woman, who imagined that it -might be difficult to induce Jonah to come into the house again. - -'A man in such a place as his has no business to be laid up,' said his -master, with a whine. 'I'll see and get a man who won't break his nose.' - -Thomas was sent to the inn three or four times, but in vain. The man was -sitting up, well enough, in the tap-room; but the middle of his face was -covered with streaks of plaster, and he could not bring himself to -expose his wounds before his conqueror. - -Sir Louis began by ordering the woman to bring him chasse-cafe. She -offered him coffee, as much as he would; but no chasse. 'A glass of port -wine,' she said, at twelve o'clock, and another at three had been -ordered for him. - -'I don't care a--for the orders,' said Sir Louis; 'send me my own man.' -The man was again sent for; but would not come. 'There's a bottle of -that stuff that I take, in that portmanteau, in the left-hand -corner--just hand it to me.' - -But Janet was not to be done. She would give him no stuff, except what -the doctor had ordered, till the doctor came back. The doctor would -then, no doubt, give him anything that was proper. - -Sir Louis swore a good deal, and stormed as much as he could. He drank, -however, his two glasses of wine, and he got no more. Once or twice he -essayed to get out of bed and dress; but, at every effort, he found that -he could not do it without Joe: and there he was, still under the -clothes when the doctor returned. - -'I'll tell you what it is,' said he, as soon as his guardian entered the -room, 'I'm not going to be made a prisoner of here.' - -'A prisoner! no, surely not.' - -'It seems very much like it at present. Your servant here--that old -woman--takes it upon her to say she'll do nothing without your orders.' - -'Well; she's right there.' - -'Right! I don't know what you call right; but I won't stand it. You -are not going to make a child of me, Dr Thorne; so you need not think -it.' - -And then there was a long quarrel, between them, and but an indifferent -reconciliation. The baronet said that he would go to Boxall Hill, and -was vehement in his intention to do so because the doctor opposed it. He -had not, however, as yet ferreted out the squire, or given a bit of his -mind to Mr Gazebee, and it behoved him to do this before he took himself -off to his own country mansion. He ended, therefore, by deciding to go -on the next day but one. - -'Let it be so, if you are well enough,' said the doctor. - -'Well enough!' said the other, with a sneer. 'There's nothing to make -me ill that I know of. It certainly won't be drinking too much here.' - -On the next day, Sir Louis was in a different mood, and in one more -distressing for the doctor to bear. His compelled absence from -intemperate drinking had, no doubt, been good for him; but his mind had -so much sunk under the pain of the privation, that his state was piteous -to behold. He had cried for his servant, as a child cries for its nurse, -till at last the doctor, moved to pity, had himself gone out and brought -the man in from the public-house. But when he did come, Joe was of but -little service to his master, as he was altogether prevented from -bringing him either wine or spirits; and when he searched for the -liqueur-case, he found that even that had been carried away. - -'I believe you want me to die,' he said, as the doctor, sitting by his -bedside, was tyring, for the hundredth time, to make him understand that -he had but one chance of living. - -The doctor was not in the least irritated. It would have been as wise -to be irritated by the want of reason in a dog. - -'I am doing what I can to save your life,' he said calmly; 'but as you -said just now, I have no power over you. As long as you are able to move -and remain in my house, you certainly shall not have the means of -destroying yourself. You will be very wise to stay here for a week or -ten days: a week or ten days of healthy living might, perhaps, bring you -round.' - -Sir Louis again declared that the doctor wished him to die, and spoke of -sending for his attorney Finnie, to come to Greshamsbury to look after -him. - -'Send for him if you choose,' said the doctor. 'His coming will cost -you three or four pounds, but can do no other harm.' - -It was certainly hard upon Dr Thorne that he should be obliged to -entertain such a guest in the house;--to entertain him, and foster him, -and care for him, almost as though he were a son. But he had no -alternative; he had accepted the charge from Sir Roger, and he must go -through with it. His conscience, moreover, allowed him no rest in the -matter: it harassed him day and night, driving him on sometimes to great -wretchedness. He could not love this incubus that was on his shoulders; -he could not do other than be very far from loving him. Of what use or -value was he to any one? What could the world make of him that would be -good, or he of the world? Was not an early death his certain fate? The -earlier it might be, would it not be better? Were he to linger on yet -for two years longer--and such a space of life was possible for him--how -great would be the mischief that he might do; nay, certainly would do! -Farewell then to all hopes for Greshamsbury, as far as Mary was -concerned. Farewell then to that dear scheme which lay deep in the -doctor's heart, that hope that he might in his niece's name, give back -to the son the lost property of his father. And might not one year--six -months be as fatal. Frank, they all said, must marry money; and even -he--he the doctor himself, much as he despised the idea for money's -sake--even he could not but confess that Frank, as the heir to an old, -but grievously embarrassed property, had no right to marry, at his early -age, a girl without a shilling. Mary, his niece, his own child, would -probably be the heiress of this immense wealth; but he could not tell -this to Frank; no, nor to Frank's father, while Sir Louis was yet alive. -What, if by so doing he should achieve this marriage for his niece, and -that then Sir Louis should live to dispose of his own? How then would he -face the anger of Lady Arabella? - -'I will never hanker after a dead man's shoes, neither for myself nor -for another,' he had said to himself a hundred times; and as often did -he accuse himself of doing so. One path, however, was plainly open -before him. He would keep his peace as to the will; and would use such -efforts as he might use for a son of his own loins to preserve the life -that was so valueless. His wishes, his hopes, his thoughts, he could not -control; but his conduct was at his own disposal. - -'I say, doctor, you don't really think that I'm going to die?' Sir Louis -said, when Dr Thorne again visited him. - -'I don't think at all; I am sure you will kill yourself if you continue -to live as you have lately done.' - -'But suppose I go all right for a while, and live--live just as you tell -me, you know?' - -'All of us are in God's hands, Sir Louis. By so doing you will, at any -rate, give yourself the best chance.' - -'Best chance? Why, d--n, doctor! there are fellows have done ten times -worse than I; and they are not going to kick. Come, now, I know you are -trying to frighten me; ain't you now?' - -'I am trying to do the best I can for you.' - -'It's very hard on a fellow like me; I have nobody to say a kind word to -me; no, not one.' And Sir Louis, in his wretchedness, began to weep. -'Come, doctor; if you'll put me once more on my legs, I'll let you draw -on the estate for five hundred pounds; by G--, I will.' - -The doctor went away to his dinner, and the baronet also had his in bed. -He could not eat much, but he was allowed two glasses of wine, and also -a little brandy in his coffee. This somewhat invigorated him, and when -Dr Thorne again went to him, in the evening, he did not find him so -utterly prostrated in spirit. He had, indeed, made up his mind to a -great resolve; and thus unfolded his final scheme for his own -reformation:- - -'Doctor,' he began again, 'I believe you are an honest fellow; I do -indeed.' - -Dr Thorne could not but thank him for his good opinion. - -'You ain't annoyed at what I said this morning, are you?' - -The doctor had forgotten the particular annoyance to which Sir Louis -alluded; and informed him that his mind might be at rest on any such -matter. - -'I do believe you'd be glad to see me well; wouldn't you, now?' - -The doctor assured him that such was in very truth the case. - -'Well, now, I'll tell you what: I've been thinking about it a great deal -to-day; indeed, I have, and I want to do what is right. Mightn't I have -a little drop of that stuff, just in a cup of coffee?' - -The doctor poured him out a cup of coffee, and put about a teaspoonful -of brandy in it. Sir Louis took it with a disconsolate face, not having -been accustomed to such measures in the use of his favourite beverage. - -'I do wish to do what is right--I do, indeed; only, you see, I'm lonely. -As to those fellows up in London, I don't think that one of them cares a -straw about me.' - -Dr Thorne was of the same way of thinking, and he said so. He could not -but feel some sympathy with the unfortunate man as he thus spoke of his -own lot. It was true that he had been thrown on the world without any -one to take care of him. - -'My dear friend, I will do the best I can in every way; I will, indeed. -I do believe that your companions in town have been too ready to lead -you astray. Drop them, and you may yet do well.' - -'May I though, doctor? Well, I will drop them. There's Jenkins; he's -the best of them; but even he is always wanting to make money of me. Not -but what I'm up to the best of them in that way.' - -'You had better leave London, Sir Louis, and change your mode of life. -Go to Boxall Hill for a while; for two or three days or so; live with -your mother there and take to farming.' - -'What! farming?' - -'Yes; that's what all country gentlemen do: take the land there into -your own hand, and occupy your mind upon it.' - -'Well, doctor, I will--upon one condition.' - -Dr Thorne sat still and listened. He had no idea what the condition -might be, but he was not prepared to promise acquiescence till he heard -it. - -'You know what I told you once before,' said the baronet. - -'I don't remember at this moment.' - -'About my getting married, you know.' - -The doctor's brow grew black, and promised no help to the poor wretch. -Bad in every way, wretched, selfish, sensual, unfeeling, purse-proud, -ignorant as Sir Louis Scatcherd was still, there was left to him the -power of feeling something like sincere love. It may be presumed that he -did love Mary Thorne, and that he was at the time earnest in declaring -that if she could be given to him, he would endeavour to live according -to her uncle's counsel. It was only a trifle he asked; but, alas! that -trifle could not be vouchsafed. - -'I should much approve of your getting married, but I do not know how I -can help you.' - -'Of course, I mean Miss Mary: I do love her; I really do, Dr Thorne.' - -'It is quite impossible, Sir Louis; quite. You do my niece much honour; -but I am able to answer for her, positively, that such a proposition is -quite out of the question.' - -'Look here now, Dr Thorne; anything in the way of settlements--' - -'I will not hear a word on the subject: you are very welcome to the use -of my house as long as it may suit you to remain here; but I must insist -that my niece shall not be troubled on this matter.' - -'Do you mean to say she's in love with that young Gresham?' - -This was too much for the doctor's patience. 'Sir Louis,' said he, 'I -can forgive you much for your father's sake. I can also forgive -something on the score of your own ill-health. But you ought to know, -you ought by this time to have learnt, that there are some things which -a man cannot forgive. I will not talk to you about my niece; and -remember this, also, I will not have her troubled by you:' and, so -saying, the doctor left him. - -On the next day the baronet was sufficiently recovered to be able to -resume his braggadocio airs. He swore at Janet; insisted on being served -by his own man; demanded in a loud voice, but in vain, that his -liqueur-case should be restored to him; and desired that post-horses -might be ready for him on the morrow. On that day he got up and ate his -dinner in his bedroom. On the next morning he countermanded the horses, -informing the doctor that he did so because he had little bit of -business to transact with Squire Gresham before he left the place! With -some difficulty, the doctor made him understand that the squire would -not see him on business; and it was at last decided, that Mr Gazebee -should be invited to call on him at the doctor's house; and this Mr -Gazebee agreed to do, in order to prevent the annoyance of having the -baronet up at Greshamsbury. - -On this day, the evening before Mr Gazebee's visit, Sir Louis -condescended to come down to dinner. He dined, however, tete-a-tete with -the doctor. Mary was not there, nor was anything said as to her absence. -Sir Louis Scatcherd never set eyes upon her again. - -He bore himself arrogantly on that evening, having resumed the airs and -would-be dignity which he thought belonged to him as a man of rank and -property. In his periods of low spirits, he was abject and humble -enough; abject and fearful of the lamentable destiny which at these -moments he believed to be in store for him. But it was one of the -peculiar symptoms of his state, that as he partially recovered his -bodily health, the tone of his mind recovered itself also, and his fears -for the time were relieved. - -There was very little said between him and the doctor that evening. The -doctor sat, guarding the wine, and thinking when he should have his -house to himself again. Sir Louis sat moody, every now and then uttering -some impertinence as to the Greshams and the Greshamsbury property, and, -at an early hour, allowed Joe to put him to bed. - -The horses were ordered on the next day for three, and, as two, Mr -Gazebee came to the house. He had never been there before, nor had he -ever met Dr Thorne except at the squire's dinner. On this occasion he -asked only for the baronet. - -'Ah! ah! I'm glad you're come, Mr Gazebee; very glad,' said Sir Louis; -acting the part of the rich, great man with all the power he had. 'I -want to ask you a few questions so as to make it all clear sailing -between us.' - -'As you have asked to see me, I have come, Sir Louis,' said the other, -putting on much dignity as he spoke. 'But would it not be better that -any business there may be should be done among the lawyers?' - -'The lawyers are very well, I dare say; but when a man has so large a -stake at interest as I have in this Greshamsbury property, why, you see, -Mr Gazebee, he feels a little inclined to look after it himself. Now, do -you know, Mr Gazebee, how much it is that Mr Gresham owes me?' - -Mr Gazebee, of course, did know very well; but he was not going to -discuss the subject with Sir Louis, if he could help it. - -'Whatever claim your father's estate may have on that of Mr Gresham is, -as far as I understand, vested in Dr Thorne's hands as trustee. I am -inclined to believe that you have not yourself at present any claim on -Greshamsbury. The interest, as it becomes due, is paid to Dr Thorne; and -if I may be allowed to make a suggestion, I would say that it will not -be expedient to make any change in that arrangement till the property -shall come into your own hands.' - -'I differ from you entirely, Mr Gazebee; in toto as we used to say at -Eton. What you mean to say is--I can't go to law with Mr Gresham; I'm -not so sure of that; but perhaps not. But I can compel Dr Thorne to look -after my interests. I can force him to foreclose. And to tell you the -truth, Gazebee, unless some arrangement is proposed to me which I shall -think advantageous, I shall do so at once. There is near a hundred -thousand pounds owing to me; yes to me. Thorne is only a name in the -matter. The money is my money; and, by ---, I mean to look after it.' - -'Haven't you any doubt, Sir Louis, as to the money being secure?' - -'Yes, I have. It isn't so easy to have a hundred thousand pounds -secured. The squire is a poor man, and I don't choose to allow a poor -man to owe me such a sum as that. Besides, I mean to invest in land. I -tell you fairly, therefore, I shall foreclose.' - -Mr Gazebee, using all the perspicuity which his professional education -had left to him, tried to make Sir Louis understand that he had no power -to do anything of the kind. - -'No power! Mr Gresham shall see whether I have no power. When a man -has a hundred thousand pounds owing to him he ought to have some power; -and, as I take it, he has. But we will see. Perhaps you know Finnie, do -you?' - -Mr Gazebee, with a good deal of scorn in his face, said that he had not -that pleasure. Mr Finnie was not in his line. - -'Well, you will know him then, and you'll find he's sharp enough; that -is, unless, I have some offer made to me that I may choose to accept.' -Mr Gazebee declared that he was not instructed to make any offer, and so -he took his leave. - -On that afternoon, Sir Louis went off to Boxall Hill, transferring the -miserable task of superintending his self-destruction from the shoulders -of the doctor to those of his mother. Of Lady Scatcherd, the baronet -took no account in his proposed sojourn in the country, nor did he take -much of the doctor in leaving Greshamsbury. He again wrapped himself in -his furs, and, with tottering steps, climbed up into the barouche which -was to carry him away. - -'Is my man up behind?' he said to Janet, while the doctor was standing -at the little front garden-gate, making his adieux. - -'No, sir, he is not up yet,' said Janet, respectfully. - -'Then send him out, will you? I can't lose my time waiting here all -day.' - -'I shall come over to Boxall Hill and see you,' said the doctor, whose -heart softened towards the man, in spite of his brutality, as the hour -of his departure came. - -'I shall be happy to see you if you like to come, of course; that is, in -the way of visiting, and that sort of thing. As for doctoring, if I want -any I shall send for Fillgrave.' Such were his last words as the -carriage, with a rush, went off from the door. - -The doctor, as he re-entered the house, could not avoid smiling, for he -thought of Dr Fillgrave's last patient at Boxall Hill. 'It's a question -to me,' said he to himself, 'whether Fillgrave will ever be induced to -make another visit to that house, even with the object of rescuing a -baronet out of my hands.' - -'He's gone; isn't he, uncle?' said Mary, coming out of her room. - -'Yes, my dear; he's gone, poor fellow.' - -'He may be a poor fellow, uncle; but he's a very disagreeable inmate in -a house. I have not had any dinner these two days.' - -'And I haven't had what can be called a cup of tea since he's been in -the house. But I'll make up for that to-night. - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII - -DE COURCY PRECEPTS AND DE COURCY PRACTICE - -There is a mode of novel-writing which used to be much in vogue, but -which has now gone out of fashion. It is, nevertheless, one which is -very expressive when in good hands, and which enables the author to tell -his story, or some portion of his story, with more natural trust than -any other, I mean that of familiar letters. I trust I shall be excused -if I attempt it as regards this one chapter; though, it may be, that I -shall break down and fall into the commonplace narrative, even before -the one chapter be completed. The correspondents are the Lady Amelia De -Courcy and Miss Gresham. I, of course, give precedence to the higher -rank, but the first epistle originated with the latter-named young lady. -Let me hope that they will explain themselves. - -'Miss Gresham to Lady Amelia de Courcy - -'Greshamsbury House, June 185- - -'MY DEAREST AMELIA, - -'I wish to consult you on a subject which, as you will -perceive, is of a most momentous nature. You know how much -reliance I place in your judgement and knowledge of what is -proper, and, therefore, I write to you before speaking to any -other living person on the subject: not even to mamma; for, -although her judgement is good too, she has so many cares and -troubles, that it is natural that it should be a little warped -when the interests of her children are involved. Now that it -is all over, I feel that it may possibly have been so in the -case of Mr Moffat. - -'You are aware that Mr Mortimer Gazebee is now staying here, -and that he has been here for nearly two months. He is engaged -in managing poor papa's affairs, and mamma, who likes him very -much, says that he is a most excellent man of business. Of -course, you know that he is a junior partner in the very old -firm of Gumption, Gazebee, and Gazebee, who, I understand, do -not undertake any business at all, except what comes to them -from peers, or commoners of the very highest class. - -'I soon perceived, dearest Amelia, that Mr Gazebee paid me -more than ordinary attention, and I immediately became very -guarded in my manner. I certainly liked Mr Gazebee from the -first. His manners are quite excellent, his conduct to mamma -is charming, and, as regards myself, I must say that there has -been nothing in his behaviour of which even you could -complain. He has never attempted the slightest familiarity, -and I will do him the justice to say, that, though he has been -very attentive, he has also been very respectful. - -'I must confess that, for the last three weeks, I have thought -that he meant something. I might, perhaps, have done more to -repel him; or I might have consulted you earlier as to the -propriety of keeping altogether out of his way. But you know, -Amelia, how often these things lead to nothing, and though I -thought all along that Mr Gazebee was in earnest, I hardly -liked to say anything about it even to you till I was quite -certain. If you had advised me, you know, to accept his offer, -and if, after that, he had never made it, I should have felt -so foolish. - -'But now he has made it. He came to me yesterday just before -dinner, in the little drawing-room, and told me, in the most -delicate manner, in words that even you could not have but -approved, that his highest ambition was to be thought worthy -of my regard, and that he felt for me the warmest love, and -the most profound admiration, and the deepest respect. You may -say, Amelia, that he is only an attorney, and I believe that -he is an attorney; but I am sure you would have esteemed him -had you heard the very delicate way in which he expressed his -sentiments. - -'Something had given me a presentiment of what he was going to -do when I saw him come into the room, so that I was on my -guard. I tried very hard to show no emotion; but I suppose I -was a little flurried, as I once detected myself calling him -Mr Mortimer: his name, you know, is Mortimer Gazebee. I ought -not to have done so, certainly; but it was not so bad as if I -had called him Mortimer without the Mr, was it? I don't think -there could possibly be a prettier Christian name than -Mortimer. Well, Amelia, I allowed him to express himself -without interruption. He once attempted to take my hand; but -even this was done without any assumption of familiarity; and -when he saw that I would not permit it, he drew back, and -fixed his eyes on the ground as though he were ashamed even of -that. - -'Of course, I had to give him an answer; and though I had -expected that something of this sort would take place, I had -not made up my mind on the subject. I would not, certainly, -under any circumstances, accept him without consulting you. If -I really disliked him, of course there would be no doubt; but -I can't say, dearest Amelia, that I do absolutely dislike him; -and I really think that we would make each other very happy, -if the marriage were suitable as regarded both our positions. - -'I collected myself as well as I could, and I really do think -that you would have said that I did not behave badly, though -the position was rather trying. I told him that, of course, I -was flattered by his sentiments, though much surprised at -hearing them; that since I knew him, I had esteemed and valued -him as an acquaintance, but that, looking on him as a man of -business, I had never expected anything more. I then -endeavoured to explain to him, that I was not perhaps -privileged as some other girls might be, to indulge my -feelings altogether: perhaps that was saying too much, and -might make him think that I was in love with him; but, from -the way I said it, I don't think he would, for I was very much -guarded in my manner, and very collected; and then I told him, -that in any proposal of marriage that might be made to me, it -would be my duty to consult my family as much, if not more -than myself. - -'He said, of course; and asked whether he might speak to papa. -I tried to make him understand, that in talking of my family, -I did not exactly mean papa, or even mamma. Of course I was -thinking what was due to the name of Gresham. I know very well -what papa would say. He would give his consent in half a -minute; he is so broken-hearted by these debts. And, to tell -you the truth, Amelia, I think mamma would too. He did not -seem quite to comprehend what I meant; but he did say that he -knew it was a high ambition to marry into the family of the -Greshams. I am sure you would confess that he has the most -proper feelings; and as for expressing them no man could do it -better. - -'He owned that it was ambition to ally himself with a family -above his own rank in life, and that he looked to doing so as -a means of advancing himself. Now this was at any rate honest. -That was one of his motives, he said; though, of course, not -his first: and then he declared how truly he was attached to -me. In answer to this, I remarked that he had known me only a -very short time. This, perhaps, was giving him too much -encouragement; but, at that moment, I hardly knew what to say, -for I did not wish to hurt his feelings. He then spoke of his -income. He has fifteen hundred a year from the business, and -that will be greatly increased when his father leaves it; and -his father is much older then Mr Gumption, though he is only a -second partner. Mortimer Gazebee will be the senior partner -himself before very long; and perhaps that does alter his -position a little. - -'He has a very nice place down somewhere in Surrey; I have -mamma say it quite a gentleman's place. It is let now; but he -will live there when he is married. And he has property of his -own besides which he can settle. So, you see, he is quite as -well off as Mr Oriel; better, indeed; and if a man is in a -profession, I believe it is considered that it does not matter -much what. Of course, a clergyman can be a bishop; but then, I -think I have heard that one attorney did once become Lord -Chancellor. I should have my carriage, you know; I remember -his saying that, especially, though I cannot recollect how he -brought it in. - -'I told him, at last, that I was so much taken by surprise -that I could not give him an answer then. He was going up to -London, he said, on the next day, and might he be permitted to -address me on the same subject when he returned? I could not -refuse him, you know; and so now I have taken the opportunity -of his absence to write to you for your advice. You understand -the world so very well, and know exactly what one ought to do -in such a strange position! - -'I hope I have made it intelligible, at least, as to what I -have written about. I have said nothing as to my own feelings, -because I wish you to think on the matter without consulting -them. If it would be derogatory to accept Mr Gazebee, I -certainly would not do so because I happen to like him. If we -were to act in that way, what would the world come to, Amelia? -Perhaps my ideas may be overstrained; if so, you will tell me. - -'When Mr Oriel proposed to Beatrice, nobody seemed to make any -objection. It all seemed to go as a matter of course. She says -that his family is excellent; but as far as I can learn, his -grandfather was a general in India, and came home very rich. -Mr Gazebee's grandfather was a member of the firm, and so, I -believe, was his great-grandfather. Don't you think this ought -to count for something? Besides, they have no business except -with the most aristocratic persons, such as uncle De Courcy, -and the Marquis of Kensington Gore, and that sort. I mention -the marquis because Mr Mortimer Gazebee is there now. And I -know that one of the Gumptions was once in Parliament; and I -don't think that any of the Oriels ever were. The name of -attorney is certainly very bad, is it not, Amelia? but they -certainly do not seem to be all the same, and I do think that -this ought to make a difference. To hear Mr Mortimer Gazebee -talk of some attorney at Barchester, you would say that there -is quite as much difference between them as between a bishop -and a curate. And so I think there is. - -'I don't wish at all to speak of my own feelings; but if he -were not an attorney, he is, I think, the sort of man I should -like. He is very nice in every way, and if you were not told, -I don't think you would know he was an attorney. But, dear -Amelia, I will be guided by you altogether. He is certainly -much nicer than Mr Moffat, and has a great deal more to say -for himself. Of course, Mr Moffat having been in Parliament, -and having been taken up by uncle De Courcy, was in a -different sphere; but I really felt almost relieved when he -behaved in that way. With Mortimer Gazebee, I think it would -be different. - -'I shall wait so impatiently for your answer, so do pray write -at once. I hear some people say that these sort of things are -not so much thought of now as they were once, and that all -manner of marriages are considered to be comme il faut. I do -not want, you know, to make myself foolish by being too -particular. Perhaps all these changes are bad, and I rather -think they are; but if the world changes, one must change too; -one can't go against the world. - -'So do write and tell me what you think. Do not suppose that -I dislike the man, for I really cannot say that I do. But I -would not for anything make an alliance for which any one -bearing the name of De Courcy would have to blush. - -'Always, dearest Amelia,' -Your most affectionate cousin -'AUGUSTA GRESHAM. - -'PS--I fear Frank is going to be very foolish with Mary Thorne. You -know it is absolutely important that Frank should marry money. - -'It strikes me as quite possible that Mr Mortimer Gazebee may be in -Parliament some of these days. He is just the man for it.' - -Poor Augusta prayed very hard for her husband; but she prayed to a -bosom that on this subject was as hard as a flint, and she prayed in -vain. Augusta Gresham was twenty-two, Lady Amelia was thirty-four; was -it likely that Lady Amelia would permit Augusta to marry, the issue -having thus been left in her hands? Why should Augusta derogate from -her position by marrying beneath herself, seeing that Lady Amelia had -spent so many more years in the world without having found it necessary -to do so? Augusta's letter was written on two sheets of note-paper, -crossed all over; and Lady Amelia's answer was almost equally -formidable. - -'Lady Amelia de Courcy to Miss Augusta Gresham - -'Courcy Castle, June, 185- - -'MY DEAR AUGUSTA, - -'I received your letter yesterday morning, but I have put off -answering it till this evening, as I have wished to give it -very mature consideration. The question is one which concerns, -not only your own character, but happiness for life, and -nothing less than very mature consideration would justify me -in giving a decided opinion on the subject. - -'In the first place, I may tell you, that I have not a word to -say against Mr Mortimer Gazebee.' (When Augusta had read as -far as this, her heart sank within her; the rest was all -leather and prunella; she saw at once that the fiat had gone -against her, and that her wish to become Mrs Mortimer Gazebee -was not to be indulged.) 'I have known him for a long time, -and I believe him to be a very respectable person, and I have -no doubt a good man of business. The firm of Messrs Gumption -and Gazebee stands probably quite among the first attorneys in -London, and I know that papa has a very high opinion of them. - -'All of these would be excellent arguments to use in favour of -Mr Gazebee as a suitor, had his proposals been made to any one -in his own rank in life. But you, in considering the matter, -should, I think, look on it in a very different light. The -very fact that you pronounce him to be so much superior to -other attorneys, shows in how very low esteem you hold the -profession in general. It shows also, dear Augusta, how well -aware you are that they are a class of people among whom you -should not seek a partner for life. - -'My opinion is, that you should make Mr Gazebee understand- -very courteously, of course--that you cannot accept his hand. -You observe that he himself confesses that in marrying you he -would seek a wife in a rank above his own. Is it not, -therefore, clear, that in marrying him, you would descend to a -rank below you own? - -'I shall be very sorry if it grieves you; but still it will be -better that you should bear the grief of overcoming a -temporary fancy, than take a step which may so probably make -you unhappy; and which some of your friends would certainly -regard as disgraceful. - -'It is not permitted to us, my dear Augusta, to think of -ourselves in such matters. As you truly say, if we were to act -in this way, what would the world come to? It has been God's -pleasure that we should be born with high blood in our veins. -This is a great boon which we both value, but the boon has its -responsibilities as well as its privileges. It is established -by law, that the royal family shall not intermarry with -subjects. In our case there is no law, but the necessity is -not the less felt; we should not intermarry with those who are -probably of a lower rank. Mr Mortimer Gazebee is, after all, -only an attorney; and, although you speak of his -great-grandfather, he is a man of no blood whatsoever. You -must acknowledge that such an admixture should be looked on by -a De Courcy, or even a Gresham, as a pollution.' (Here Augusta -got very red, and she felt almost inclined to be angry with -her cousin.) 'Beatrice's marriage with Mr Oriel is different; -though, remember, I am by no means defending that; it may be -good or bad, and I have had no opportunity of inquiring -respecting Mr Oriel's family. Beatrice, moreover, has never -appeared to me to feel what was due to herself in such -matters; but, as I said, her marriage with Mr Oriel is very -different. Clergymen--particularly the rectors and vicars of -country parishes--do become privileged above other professional -men. I could explain why, but it would be too long in a -letter. - -'Your feelings on the subject altogether do you great credit. -I have no doubt that Mr Gresham, if asked, would accede to the -match; but that is just the reason why he should not be asked. -It would not be right that I should say anything against your -father to you; but it is impossible for any of us not to see -that all through life he has thrown away every advantage, and -sacrificed his family. Why is he now in debt, as you say? Why -is he not holding the family seat in Parliament? Even though -you are his daughter, you cannot but feel that you would not -do right to consult him on such a subject. - -'As to dear aunt, I feel sure, that were she in good health, -and left to exercise her own judgement, she would not wish to -see you married to the agent for the family estate. For, dear -Augusta, that is the real truth. Mr Gazebee often comes here -in the way of business; and though papa always receives him as -a gentleman--that is, he dines at table and all that--he is not -on the same footing in the house as the ordinary guests and -friends of the family. How would you like to be received at -Courcy Castle in the same way? - -'You will say, perhaps, that you would still be papa's niece; -so you would. But you know how strict in such matters papa is, -and you must remember, that the wife always follows the rank -of the husband. Papa is accustomed to the strict etiquette of -a court, and I am sure that no consideration would induce him -to receive the estate-agent in the light of a nephew. Indeed, -were you to marry Mr Gazebee, the house to which he belongs -would, I imagine, have to give up the management of the -property. - -'Even were Mr Gazebee in Parliament--and I do not see how it is -probable that he should get there--it would not make any -difference. You must remember, dearest, that I never was an -advocate for the Moffat match. I acquiesced in it, because -mamma did so. If I could have had my own way, I would adhere -to all our old prescriptive principles. Neither money nor -position can atone to me for low birth. But the world, alas! -is retrograding; and, according to the new-fangled doctrines -of the day, a lady of blood is not disgraced by allying -herself to a man of wealth, and what may be called quasi- -aristocratic position. I wish it were otherwise; but so it is. -And, therefore, the match with Mr Moffat was not disgraceful, -though it could not be regarded as altogether satisfactory. - -'But with Mr Gazebee the matter would be altogether different. -He is a man earning his bread; honestly, I dare say, but in a -humble position. You say he is very respectable: I do not -doubt it; and so is Mr Scraggs, the butcher at Courcy. You -see, Augusta, to what such arguments reduce you. - -'I dare say he may be nicer than Mr Moffat, in one way. That -is, he may have more small-talk at his command, and be more -clever in all those little pursuits and amusements which are -valued by ordinary young ladies. But my opinion is, that -neither I nor you would be justified in sacrificing ourselves -for such amusements. We have high duties before us. It may be -that the performance of those duties will prohibit us from -taking a part in the ordinary arena of the feminine world. It -is natural that girls should wish to marry; and, therefore, -those who are weak, take the first that come. Those who have -more judgement, make some sort of selection. But the -strongest-minded are, perhaps, those who are able to forgo -themselves and their own fancies, and to refrain from any -alliance that does not tend to the maintenance of high -principles. Of course, I speak of those who have blood in -their veins. You and I need not dilate as to the conduct of -others. - -'I hope what I have said will convince you. Indeed, I know -that it only requires that you and I should have a little -cousinly talk on this matter to be quite in accord. You must -now remain at Greshamsbury till Mr Gazebee shall return. -Immediately that he does so, seek an interview with him; do -not wait till he asks for it; then tell him, that when he -addressed you, the matter had taken you so much by surprise, -that you were not at the moment able to answer him, with that -decision that the subject demanded. Tell him, that you are -flattered--in saying this, however, you must keep a collected -countenance, and be very cold in your manner--but that family -reasons would forbid you to avail yourself of his offer, even -did no other cause prevent it. - -'And then, dear Augusta, come to us here. I know you will be -a little down-hearted after going through this struggle; but I -will endeavour to inspirit you. When we are both together, you -will feel more sensibly the value of that high position which -you will preserve by rejecting Mr Gazebee, and will regret -less acutely whatever you may lose. - -'Your very affectionate cousin, -'AMELIA DE COURCY. - -'PS.--I am greatly grieved about Frank; but I have long feared -that he would do some very silly thing. I have heard lately -that Miss Mary Thorne is not even the legitimate niece of your -Dr Thorne, but is the daughter of some poor creature who was -seduced by the doctor, in Barchester. I do not know how true -this may be, but I think your brother should be put on his -guard: it might do good.' - -Poor Augusta! She was in truth to be pitied, for her efforts were -made with the intention of doing right according to her lights. For Mr -Moffat she had never cared a straw; and when, therefore, she lost the -piece of gilding for which she had been instructed by her mother to -sell herself, it was impossible to pity her. But Mr Gazebee she would -have loved with that sort of love which it was in her power to bestow. -With him she would have been happy, respectable, and contented. - -She had her written her letter with great care. When the offer was -made to her, she could not bring herself to throw Lady Amelia to the -winds and marry the man, as it were, out of her own head. Lady Amelia -had been the tyrant of her life, and so she strove hard to obtain her -tyrant's permission. She used all her little cunning in showing that, -after all, Mr Gazebee was not so very plebeian. All her little cunning -was utterly worthless. Lady Amelia's mind was too strong to be caught -with such chaff. Augusta could not serve God and Mammon. She must -either be true to the god of her cousin's idolatry, and remain single, -or serve the Mammon of her own inclinations, and marry Mr Gazebee. - -When re-folding her cousin's letter, after the first perusal, she did -for a moment think of rebellion. Could she not be happy at the nice -place in Surrey, having, as she would have, a carriage, even though all -the De Courcys should drop her? It had been put to her that she would -not like to be received at Courcy Castle with the scant civility which -would be considered due to a Mrs Mortimer Gazebee; but what if she -could put up without being received at Courcy Castle at all? Such ideas -did float through her mind, dimly. - -But her courage failed her. It is so hard to throw off a tyrant; so -much easier to yield, when we have been in the habit of yielding. This -third letter, therefore, was written; and it is the end of the -correspondence. - -'Miss Augusta Gresham to Lady Amelia de Courcy - -'Greshamsbury House, July, 185- - -'MY DEAREST AMELIA, - -'I did not answer your letter before, because I thought it -better to delay doing so till Mr Gazebee had been here. He -came the day before yesterday, and yesterday I did, as nearly -as possible, what you advised. Perhaps, on the whole, it will -be better. As you say, rank has its responsibilities as well -as its privileges. - -'I don't quite understand what you mean about clergymen, but -we can talk that over when we meet. Indeed, it seems to me -that if one is to be particular about family--and I am sure I -think we ought--one ought to be so without exception. If Mr -Oriel be a parvenu, Beatrice's children won't be well born -merely because their father was a clergyman, even though he is -a rector. Since my former letter, I have heard that Mr -Gazebee's great-great-great-grandfather established the firm; -and there are many people who were nobodies then who are -thought to have good blood in their veins now. - -'But I do not say this because I differ from you. I agree -with you so fully, that I at once made up my mind to reject -the man; and, consequently, I have done so. - -'When I told him I could not accept him from family -considerations, he asked me whether I had spoken to papa. I -told him, no; and that it would be no good, as I had made up -my own mind. I don't think he quite understood me; but it did -not perhaps much matter. You told me to be very cold, and I -think that perhaps he thought me less gracious than before. -Indeed, I fear that when he first spoke, I may seem to have -given him too much encouragement. However, it is all over now; -quite over!' (As Augusta wrote this, she barely managed to -save the paper beneath her hand from being moistened with the -tear which escaped from her eye.) - -'I do not mind confessing now,' she continued, 'at any rate to -you, that I did like Mr Gazebee a little. I think his temper -and disposition would have suited me. But I am quite satisfied -that I have done right. He tried very hard to make me change -my mind. That is, he said a great many things as to whether I -would not put off my decision. But I was quite firm. I must -say that he behaved very well, and that I really do think he -liked me honestly and truly; but, of course, I could not -sacrifice family considerations on that account. - -'Yes, rank has its responsibilities as well as its privileges. -I will remember that. It is necessary to do so, as otherwise -one would be without consolation for what one has to suffer. -For I find that one has to suffer, Amelia. I know papa would -have advised me to marry this man; and so, I dare say, mamma -would, and Frank, and Beatrice, if they knew that I liked him. -It would not be so bad if we all thought alike about it; but -it is hard to have responsibilities all on one's own shoulder; -is it not? - -'But I will go over to you, and you will comfort me. I always -feel stronger on this subject at Courcy than at Greshamsbury. -We will have a long talk about it, and then I shall be happy -again. I purpose going on next Friday, if that will suit you -and dear aunt. I have told mamma that you all wanted me, and -she made no objection. Do write at once, dearest Amelia, for -to hear from you now will be my only comfort. - -'Yours, ever most affectionately and obliged, -'AUGUSTA GRESHAM. - -'PS.--I told mamma what you said about Mary Thorne, and she -said, "Yes; I suppose all the world knows it now; and if all -the world did know it, it makes no difference to Frank." She -seemed very angry; so you see it was true.' - -Though, by so doing, we shall somewhat anticipate the end of our story, -it may be desirable that the full tale of Mr Gazebee's loves should be -told here. When Mary is breaking her heart on her death-bed in the last -chapter, or otherwise accomplishing her destiny, we shall hardly find a -fit opportunity of saying much about Mr Gazebee and his aristocratic -bride. - -For he did succeed at last in obtaining a bride in whose veins ran the -noble De Courcy blood, in spite of the high doctrine preached so -eloquently by the Lady Amelia. As Augusta had truly said, he had failed -to understand her. He was led to think, by her manner of receiving his -first proposal--and justly so, enough--that she liked him, and would -accept him; and he was therefore rather perplexed by his second -interview. He tried again and again, and begged permission to mention -the matter to Mr Gresham; but Augusta was very firm, and he at last -retired in disgust. Augusta went to Courcy Castle, and received from her -cousin that consolation and re-strengthening which she so much required. - -Four years afterwards--long after the fate of Mary Thorne had fallen, -like a thunderbolt, on the inhabitants of Greshamsbury; when Beatrice -was preparing for her second baby, and each of the twins had her -accepted lover--Mr Mortimer Gazebee went down to Courcy Castle; of -course, on a matter of business. No doubt he dined at the table, and all -that. We have the word of Lady Amelia, that the earl, with his usual -good-nature, allowed him such privileges. Let us hope that he never -encroached on them. - -But on this occasion, Mr Gazebee stayed a long time at the castle, and -singular rumours as to the cause of his prolonged visit became current -in the little town. No female scion of the present family of Courcy had, -as yet, found a mate. We may imagine that eagles find it difficult to -pair when they become scarce in their localities; and we all know how -hard it has sometimes been to get comme il faut husbands when there has -been any number of Protestant princesses on hand. - -Some little difficulty had, doubtless, brought it about that the -countess was still surrounded by her full bevy of maidens. Rank has its -responsibilities as well as its privileges, and these young ladies' -responsibilities seemed to have consisted in rejecting any suitor who -may have hitherto kneeled to them. But now it was told through Courcy, -that one suitor had kneeled, and not in vain; from Courcy the rumour -flew to Barchester, and thence came down to Greshamsbury, startling the -inhabitants, and making one poor heart throb with a violence that would -have been piteous had it been known. The suitor, so named, as Mr -Mortimer Gazebee. - -Yes; Mr Mortimer Gazebee had now awarded to him many other privileges -than those of dining at the table, and all that. He rode with the young -ladies in the park, and they all talked to him very familiarly before -company; all except Lady Amelia. The countess even called him Mortimer, -and treated him quite as one of the family. - -At last came a letter from the countess to her dear sister Arabella. It -should be given at length, but that I fear to introduce another epistle. -It is such an easy mode of writing, and facility is always dangerous. In -this letter it was announced with much preliminary ambiguity, that -Mortimer Gazebee--who had been found to be a treasure in every way; -quite a paragon of men--was about to be taken into the De Courcy bosom -as a child of that house. On that day fortnight, he was destined to lead -to the altar--the Lady Amelia. - -The countess then went on to say, that dear Amelia did not write -herself, being so much engaged by her coming duties--the -responsibilities of which she doubtless fully realized, as well as the -privileges; but she had begged her mother to request that the twins -should come and act as bridesmaids on the occasion. Dear Augusta, she -knew, was too much occupied in the coming event in Mr Oriel's family to -be able to attend. - -Mr Mortimer Gazebee was taken into the De Courcy family, and did lead -the Lady Amelia to the altar; and the Gresham twins did go there and act -as bridesmaids. And, which is much more to say for human nature, Augusta -did forgive her cousin, and, after a certain interval, went on a visit -to that nice place in Surrey which she had hoped would be her own home. -It would have been a very nice place, Augusta thought, had not Lady -Amelia Gazebee been so very economical. - -We must presume that there was some explanation between them. If so, -Augusta yielded to it, and confessed it to be satisfactory. She had -always yielded to her cousin, and loved her with that sort of love which -is begotten between fear and respect. Anything was better than -quarrelling with her cousin Amelia. - -And Mr Mortimer Gazebee did not altogether make a bad bargain. He never -received a shilling of dowry, but that he had not expected. Nor did he -want it. His troubles arose from the overstrained economy of his noble -wife. She would have it, that as she had married a poor man--Mr Gazebee, -however, was not a poor man--it behoved her to manage her house with -great care. Such a match as that she had made--this she told in -confidence to Augusta--had its responsibilities as well as its -privileges. - -But, on the whole, Mr Gazebee did not repent his bargain; when he asked -his friends to dine, he could tell them that Lady Amelia would be glad -to see them; his marriage gave him some eclat at his club, and some -additional weight in the firm to which he belonged; he gets his share of -the Courcy shooting, and is asked about to Greshamsbury, and other -Barsetshire houses, not only 'to dine at table and all that', but to -take his part in whatever delights country society there has to offer. -He lives with the great hope that his noble father-in-law may some day -be able to bring him into Parliament. - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX - -WHAT THE WORLD SAYS ABOUT BLOOD - -'Beatrice,' said Frank, rushing suddenly into his sister's room, 'I want -you to do me one especial favour.' This was three or four days after he -had spoken to Mary Thorne. Since that time he had spoken to none of his -family on the subject; but he was only postponing from day to day the -task of telling his father. He had now completed his round of visits to -the kennel, master huntsman, and stables of the county hunt, and was at -liberty to attend to his own affairs. So he had decided on speaking to -the squire that very day; but he first made his request to his sister. - -'I want you to do me one especial favour.' The day for Beatrice's -marriage had now been fixed, and it was not to be very distant. Mr Oriel -had urged that their honeymoon trip would lose half its delights if they -did not take advantage of the fine weather; and Beatrice had nothing to -allege in answer. The day had just been fixed, and when Frank ran into -her room with his special request, she was not in a humour to refuse him -anything. - -'If you wish me to be at your wedding, you must do it.' - -'Wish you to be there! You must be there, of course. Oh, Frank! what -do you mean? I'll do anything you ask; if it is not to go to the moon, -or anything of that sort.' - -Frank was too much in earnest to joke. 'You must have Mary for one of -your bridesmaids,' he said. 'Now, mind; there may be some difficulty, -but you must insist on it. I know what has been going on; but it is not -to be borne that she should be excluded on such a day as that. You that -have been like sisters all your lives till a year ago.' - -'But, Frank--' - -'Now, Beatrice, don't have any buts; say that you will do it, and it -will be done: I am sure Oriel will approve, and so will my father.' - -'But, Frank, you won't hear me.' - -'Not if you make objections; I have set my heart on your doing it.' - -'But I had set my heart on the same thing.' - -'Well?' - -'And I went to Mary on purpose; and told her just as you tell me now, -that she must come. I meant to make mamma understand that I could not be -happy unless it were so; but Mary positively refused.' - -'Refused! What did she say?' - -'I could not tell you what she said; indeed, it would not be right if I -could; but she positively declined. She seemed to feel, that after all -that had happened, she never could come to Greshamsbury again.' - -'Fiddlestick!' - -'But, Frank, those are her feelings; and, to tell the truth, I could not -combat them. I know she is not happy; but time will cure that. And, to -tell you the truth, Frank--' - -'It was before I came back that you asked her, was it not?' - -'Yes; just the day before you came, I think.' - -'Well, it's altered now. I have seen her since that.' - -'Have you Frank?' - -'What do you take me for? Of course, I have. The very first day I went -to her. And now, Beatrice, you may believe me or not, as you like; but -if I ever marry, I shall marry Mary Thorne; and if she ever marries, I -think she may marry me. At any rate, I have her promise. And now, you -cannot be surprised that I should wish her to be at your wedding; or -that I should declare, that if she is absent, I will be absent. I don't -want any secrets, and you may tell my mother if you like it--and all the -De Courcys too, for anything I care.' - -Frank had ever been used to command his sisters: and they, especially -Beatrice, had ever been used to obey. On this occasion, she was well -inclined to do so, if she only knew how. She again remembered how Mary -had once sworn to be at her wedding, to be near her, and to touch -her--even though all the blood of the De Courcys should be crowded -before the altar railings. - -'I should be happy that she should be there; but what am I to do, Frank, -if she refuses? I have asked her, and she has refused.' - -'Go to her again; you need not have any scruples with her. Do not I -tell you she will be your sister? Not come here again to Greshamsbury! -Why, I tell you that she will be living here while you are living there -at the parsonage, for years and years to come.' - -Beatrice promised that she would go to Mary again, and that she would -endeavour to talk her mother over if Mary would consent to come. But she -could not yet make herself believe that Mary Thorne would ever be -mistress of Greshamsbury. It was so indispensably necessary that Frank -should marry money! Besides, what were these horrid rumours which were -now becoming rife as to Mary's birth; rumours more horrid than any which -had yet been heard. - -Augusta had said hardly more than the truth when she spoke of her father -being broken-hearted by his debts. His troubles were becoming almost too -many for him; and Mr Gazebee, though no doubt he was an excellent man of -business, did not seem to lessen them. Mr Gazebee, indeed, was -continually pointing out how much he owed, and in what a quagmire of -difficulties he had entangled himself. Now, to do Mr Umbleby justice, he -had never made himself disagreeable in this manner. - -Mr Gazebee had been doubtless right, when he declared that Sir Louis -Scatcherd had not himself the power to take any steps hostile to the -squire; but Sir Louis had also been right, when he boasted that, in -spite of his father's will, he could cause others to move in the matter. -Others did move, and were moving, and it began to be understood that a -moiety, at least, of the remaining Greshamsbury property must be sold. -Even this, however, would by no means leave the squire in undisturbed -possession of the other moiety. And thus, Mr Gresham was nearly -broken-hearted. - -Frank had now been at home a week, and his father had not as yet spoken -to him about the family troubles; nor had a word as yet been said -between them as to Mary Thorne. It had been agreed that Frank should go -away for twelve months, in order that he might forget her. He had been -away the twelvemonth, and had now returned, not having forgotten her. - -It generally happens, that in every household, one subject of importance -occupies it at a time. The subject of importance now mostly thought of -in the Greshamsbury household, was the marriage of Beatrice. Lady -Arabella had to supply the trousseau for her daughter; the squire had to -supply the money for the trousseau; Mr Gazebee had the task of obtaining -the money for the squire. While this was going on, Mr Gresham was not -anxious to talk to his son, either about his own debts or his son's -love. There would be time for these things when the marriage-feast was -over. - -So thought the father, but the matter was precipitated by Frank. He -also had put off the declaration which he had to make, partly from a -wish to spare the squire, but partly also with a view to spare himself. -We have all some of that cowardice which induces us to postpone an -inevitably evil day. At this time the discussions as to Beatrice's -wedding were frequent in the house, and at one of them Frank had heard -his mother repeat the names of the proposed bridesmaids. Mary's name was -not among them, and hence had arisen the attack on his sister. - -Lady Arabella had had her reason for naming the list before her son; but -she overshot her mark. She wished to show him how Mary was forgotten at -Greshamsbury; but she only inspired him with a resolve that she should -not be forgotten. He accordingly went to his sister; and then, the -subject being full on his mind, he resolved at once to discuss it with -his father. - -'Sir, are you at leisure for five minutes?' he said, entering the room -in which the squire was accustomed to sit majestically, to receive his -tenants, scold his dependants, and in which, in former happy days, he -had always arranged the meets of the Barsetshire hunt. - -Mr Gresham was quite at leisure: when was he not so? But had he been -immersed in the deepest business of which he was capable, he would -gladly have put it aside at his son's instance. - -'I don't like to have any secret from you, sir,' said Frank; 'nor, for -the matter of that, from anybody else'--the anybody else was intended to -have reference to his mother--'and, therefore, I would rather tell you -at once what I have made up my mind to do.' - -Frank's address was very abrupt, and he felt it was so. He was rather -red in the face, and his manner was fluttered. He had quite made up his -mind to break the whole affair to his father; but he had hardly made up -his mind as to the best mode of doing so. - -'Good heavens, Frank! what do you mean? you are not going to do -anything rash? What is it you mean, Frank?' - -'I don't think it is rash,' said Frank. - -'Sit down, my boy; sit down. What is it that you say you are going to -do?' - -'Nothing immediately, sir,' said he, rather abashed; 'but as I have made -up my mind about Mary Thorne--' - -'Oh, about Mary,' said the squire, almost relieved. - -And then Frank, in voluble language, which he hardly, however, had quite -under his command, told his father all that had passed between him and -Mary. 'You see, sir,' said he, 'that it is fixed now, and cannot be -altered. Nor must it be altered. You asked me to go away for twelve -months, and I have done so. It has made no difference, you see. As to -our means of living, I am quite willing to do anything that may be best -and most prudent. I was thinking, sir, of taking a farm somewhere near -here, and living on that.' - -The squire sat quite silent for some moments after this communication -had been made to him. Frank's conduct, as a son, in this special matter -of his love, how was it possible for him to find fault? He himself was -almost as fond of Mary as of a daughter; and, though he too would have -been desirous that his son should receive the estate from its -embarrassment by a rich marriage, he did not at all share Lady -Arabella's feelings on the subject. No Countess de Courcy had ever -engraved it on the tablets of his mind that the world would come to ruin -if Frank did not marry money. Ruin there was, and would be, but it had -been brought about by no sin of Frank's. - -'Do you remember about her birth, Frank?' he said, at last. - -'Yes, sir; everything. She told me all she knew; and Dr Thorne finished -the story.' - -'And what do you think of it?' - -'It is a pity and a misfortune. It might, perhaps, have been a reason -why you or my mother should not have had Mary in the house many years -ago; but it cannot make any difference now.' - -Frank had not meant to lean so heavily on his father; but he did so. The -story had never been told to Lady Arabella; was not even known to her -now, positively, and on good authority. But Mr Gresham had always known -it. If Mary's birth was so great a stain upon her, why had he brought -her into his house among his children? - -'It is a misfortune, Frank; a very great misfortune. It will not do for -you and me to ignore birth; too much of the value of one's position -depends on it.' - -'But what was Mr Moffat's birth?' said Frank, almost with scorn; 'or -what Miss Dunstable's?' he would have added, had it not been that his -father had not been concerned in that sin of wedding him to the oil of -Lebanon. - -'True, Frank. But yet, what you would mean to say is not true. We must -take the world as we find it. Were you to marry a rich heiress, were her -birth even as low as that of poor Mary--' - -'Don't call her poor Mary, father; she is not poor. My wife will have a -right to take rank in the world, however she was born.' - -'Well,--poor in that way. But were she an heiress, the world would -forgive her birth on account of her wealth.' - -'The world is very complaisant, sir.' - -'You must take it as you find it, Frank. I only say that such is the -fact. If Porlock were to marry the daughter of a shoeblack, without a -farthing, he would make a mesalliance; but if the daughter of the -shoeblack had half a million of money, nobody would dream of saying so. -I am stating no opinion of my own: I am only giving you the world's -opinion.' - -'I don't give a straw for the world.' - -'That is a mistake, my boy; you do care for it, and would be very -foolish if you did not. What you mean is, that, on this particular -point, you value your love more than the world's opinion.' - -'Well, yes, that is what I mean.' - -But the squire, though he had been very lucid in his definition, had not -got nearer to his object; had not even yet ascertained what his own -object was. This marriage would be ruinous to Greshamsbury; and yet, -what was he to say against it, seeing that the ruin had been his fault, -and not his son's? - -'You could let me have a farm; could you not, sir? I was thinking of -about six or seven hundred acres. I suppose it could be managed -somehow?' - -'A farm?' said the father, abstractedly. - -'Yes, sir. I must do something for my living. I should make less of a -mess of that than anything else. Besides, it would take such a time to -be an attorney, or a doctor, or anything of that sort.' - -Do something for his living! And was the heir of Greshamsbury come to -this--the heir and his only son? Whereas, he, the squire, had succeeded -at an earlier age than Frank's to an unembarrassed income of fourteen -thousand pounds a year! The reflection was very hard to bear. - -'Yes: I dare say you could have a farm:' and then he threw himself back -in his chair, closing his eyes. Then, after a while, rose again, and -walked hurriedly about the room. 'Frank,' he said, at last, standing -opposite to his son, 'I wonder what you think of me?' - -'Think of you, sir?' ejaculated Frank. - -'Yes; what do you think of me, for having thus ruined you. I wonder -whether you hate me?' - -Frank, jumping up from his chair, threw his arms round his father's -neck. 'Hate you, sir? How can you speak so cruelly? You know well that I -love you. And, father, do not trouble yourself about the estate for my -sake. I do not care for it; I can be just as happy without it. Let the -girls have what is left, and I will make my own way in the world, -somehow. I will go to Australia; yes, sir, that will be the best. I and -Mary will both go. Nobody will care about her birth there. But, father, -never say, never think, that I do not love you!' - -The squire was too much moved to speak at once, so he sat down again and -covered his face with his hands. Frank went on pacing the room, till, -gradually, his first idea recovered possession of his mind, and the -remembrance of his father's grief faded away. 'May I tell Mary,' he said -at last, 'that you consent to our marriage?' - -But the squire was not prepared to say this. He was pledged to his wife -to do all that he could to oppose it; and he himself thought, that if -anything could consummate the family ruin, it would be this marriage. - -'I cannot say that, Frank; I cannot say that. What would you both live -on? It would be madness.' - -'We would go to Australia,' answered he, bitterly. 'I have just said -so.' - -'Oh, no, my boy; you cannot do that. You must not throw up the old -place altogether. There is no other one but you, Frank; and we have -lived here now for so many, many years.' - -'But if we cannot live here any longer, father?' - -'But for this scheme of yours, we might do. I will give up everything -to you, the management of the estate, the park, all the land we have in -hand, if you will give up this fatal scheme. For, Frank, it is fatal. -You are only twenty-three; why should you be in such a hurry to marry?' - -'You married at twenty-one, sir.' - -Frank was again severe on his father, unwittingly. 'Yes, I did,' said -Mr Gresham; 'and see what has come of it! Had I waited ten years longer, -how different would everything have been! No, Frank, I cannot consent to -such a marriage; nor will your mother.' - -'It is your consent that I ask, sir; and I am asking for nothing but -your consent.' - -'It would be sheer madness; madness for you both. My own Frank, my dear -boy, do not drive me to distraction! Give it up for four years.' - -'Four years!' - -'Yes; for four years. I ask it as a personal favour; as an obligation -to myself, in order that we may be saved from ruin; you, your mother, -and sisters, your family name, and the old house. I do not talk about -myself; but were such a marriage to take place, I should be driven to -despair.' - -Frank found it very hard to resist his father, who now had hold of his -hand and arm, and was thus half retaining him, and half embracing him. -'Frank, say that you will forget this for four years--say for three -years.' - -But Frank would not say so. To postpone his marriage for four years, or -for three, seemed to him to be tantamount to giving up Mary altogether; -and he would not acknowledge that any one had the right to demand of him -to do that. - -'My word is pledged, sir,' he said. - -'Pledged! Pledged to whom?' - -'To Miss Thorne.' - -'But I will see her, Frank;--and her uncle. She was always reasonable. -I am sure she will not wish to bring ruin on her old friends at -Greshamsbury.' - -'Her old friends at Greshamsbury have done but little lately to deserve -her consideration. She has been treated shamefully. I know it has not -been by you, sir; but I must say so. She has already been treated -shamefully; but I will not treat her falsely.' - -'Well, Frank, I can say no more to you. I have destroyed the estate -which should have been yours, and I have no right to expect you should -regard what I say.' - -Frank was greatly distressed. He had not any feeling of animosity -against his father with reference to the property, and would have done -anything to make the squire understand this, short of giving up his -engagement to Mary. His feeling rather was, that, as each had a case -against the other, they should cry quits; that he should forgive his -father for his bad management, on condition that he himself was to be -forgiven with regard to his determined marriage. Not that he put it -exactly in that shape, even to himself; but could he have unravelled his -own thoughts, he would have found that such was the web on which they -were based. - -'Father, I do regard what you say; but you would not have me be false. -Had you doubled the property instead of lessening it, I could not regard -what you say any more.' - -'I should be able to speak in a very different tone; I feel that, -Frank.' - -'Do not feel it any more, sir; say what you wish, as you would have said -it under any other circumstances; and pray believe this, the idea never -occurs to me, that I have ground for complaint as regards the property; -never. Whatever troubles we may have, do not let that trouble you.' - -Soon after this Frank left him. What more was there that could be said -between them? They could not be of one accord; but even yet it might not -be necessary that they should quarrel. He went out, and roamed by -himself through the grounds, rather more in meditation than was his -wont. - -If he did marry, how was he to live? He talked of a profession; but had -he meant to do as others do, who make their way in professions, he -should have thought of that a year or two ago!--or, rather, have done -more than think of it. He spoke also of a farm, but even that could not -be had in a moment; nor, if it could, would it produce a living. Where -was his capital? Where was his skill? and he might have asked also, -where the industry so necessary for such a trade? He might have set his -father at defiance, and if Mary were equally headstrong with himself, he -might marry her. But, what then? - -As he walked slowly about, cutting off the daisies with his stick, he -met Mr Oriel, going up to the house, as was now his custom, to dine -there and spend the evening, close to Beatrice. - -'How I envy you, Oriel!' he said. 'What would I not give to have such a -position in the world as yours!' - -'Thou shalt not covet a man's house, nor his wife,' said Mr Oriel; -'perhaps it ought to have been added, nor his position.' - -'It wouldn't have made much difference. When a man is tempted, the -Commandments, I believe, do not go for much.' - -'Do they not, Frank? That's a dangerous doctrine; and one which, if you -had my position, you would hardly admit. But what makes you so much out -of sorts? Your own position is generally considered about the best which -the world has to give.' - -'Is it? Then let me tell you that the world has very little to give. -What can I do? Where can I turn? Oriel, if there be an empty, lying -humbug in the world, it is the theory of high birth and pure blood which -some of us endeavour to maintain. Blood, indeed! If my father had been a -baker, I should know by this time where to look for my livelihood. As it -is, I am told of nothing but my blood. Will my blood ever get me half a -crown?' - -And then the young democrat walked on again in solitude, leaving Mr -Oriel in doubt as to the exact line of argument which he had meant to -inculcate. - - - -CHAPTER XL - -THE TWO DOCTORS CHANGE PATIENTS - -Dr Fillgrave still continued his visits to Greshamsbury, for Lady -Arabella had not yet mustered the courage necessary for swallowing her -pride and sending once more for Dr Thorne. Nothing pleased Dr Fillgrave -more than those visits. - -He habitually attended grander families, and richer people; but then, he -had attended them habitually. Greshamsbury was a prize taken from the -enemy; it was his rock of Gibraltar, of which he thought much more than -of any ordinary Hampshire or Wiltshire which had always been within his -own kingdom. - -He was just starting one morning with his post-horses for Greshamsbury, -when an impudent-looking groom, with a crooked nose, trotted up to his -door. For Joe still had a crooked nose, all the doctor's care having -been inefficacious to remedy the evil effects of Bridget's little tap -with the rolling-pin. Joe had no written credentials, for his master was -hardly equal to writing, and Lady Scatcherd had declined to put herself -to further personal communication with Dr Fillgrave; but he had -effrontery enough to deliver any message. - -'Be you Dr Fillgrave?' said Joe, with one finger just raised to his -cocked hat. - -'Yes,' said Dr Fillgrave, with one foot on the step of the carriage, but -pausing at the sight of the well-turned-out servant. 'Yes; I am Dr -Fillgrave.' - -'Then you be to go to Boxall Hill immediately; before anywhere else.' - -'Boxall Hill!' said the doctor, with a very angry frown. - -'Yes; Boxall Hill: my master's place--my master is Sir Louis Scatcherd, -baronet. You've heard of him, I suppose?' - -Dr Fillgrave had not his mind quite ready for such an occasion. So he -withdrew his foot from the carriage step, and rubbing his hands one over -another, looked at his own hall door for inspiration. A single glance at -his face was sufficient to show that no ordinary thoughts were being -turned over within his breast. - -'Well!' said Joe, thinking that his master's name had not altogether -produced the magic effect which he had expected; remembering, also, now -submissive Greyson had always been, who, being a London doctor, must be -supposed to be a bigger man than this provincial fellow. 'Do you know my -master is dying, very like, while you stand here?' - -'What is your master's disease?' said the doctor, facing Joe, slowly, -and still rubbing his hands. 'What ails him? What is the matter with -him?' - -'Oh; the matter with him? Well, to say it out at once then, he do take -a drop too much at times, and then he has the horrors--what is it they -call it? Delicious beam-ends, or something of that sort.' - -'Ah, ah, yes; I know; and tell me, my man, who is attending him?' - -'Attending him? why, I do, and his mother, that is, her ladyship.' - -'Yes; but what medical attendant: what doctor?' - -'Why, there was Greyson, in London, and--' - -'Greyson!' and the doctor looked as though a name so medicinally humble -had never struck the tympanum of his ear. - -'Yes; Greyson. And then, down at what's a the man of the place, there -was Thorne.' - -'Greshamsbury?' - -'Yes; Greshamsbury. But he and Thorne didn't hit it off; and so since -that he has had no one but myself.' - -'I will be at Boxall Hill in the course of the morning,' said Dr -Fillgrave; 'or, rather, you may say, that I will be there at once: I -will take it in my way.' And having thus resolved, he gave his orders -that the post-horses should make such a detour as would enable him to -visit Boxall Hill on his road. 'It is impossible,' said he to himself, -'that I should be twice treated in such a manner in the same house.' - -He was not, however, altogether in a comfortable frame of mind as he was -driven up to the hall door. He could not but remember the smile of -triumph with which his enemy had regarded him in that hall; he could not -but think how he had returned fee-less to Barchester, and how little he -had gained in the medical world by rejecting Lady Scatcherd's bank-note. -However, he also had had his triumphs since that. He had smiled -scornfully at Dr Thorne when he had seen him in the Greshamsbury street; -and had been able to tell, at twenty houses through the county, how Lady -Arabella had at last been obliged to place herself in his hands. And he -triumphed again when he found himself really standing by Sir Louis -Scatcherd's bedside. As for Lady Scatcherd, she did not even show -herself. She kept in her own little room, sending out Hannah to ask him -up the stairs; and she only just got a peep at him through the door as -she heard the medical creak of his shoes as he again descended. - -We need say but little of his visit to Sir Louis. It mattered nothing -now, whether it was Thorne, or Greyson, or Fillgrave. And Dr Fillgrave -knew that it mattered nothing: he had skill at least for that--and heart -enough also to feel that he would fain have been relieved from this -task; would fain have left the patient in the hands even of Dr Thorne. - -The name which Joe had given to his master's illness was certainly not a -false one. He did find Sir Louis 'in the horrors'. If any father have a -son whose besetting sin was a passion for alcohol, let him take his -child to the room of a drunkard when possessed by 'the horrors'. Nothing -will cure him if not that. - -I will not disgust my reader by attempting to describe the poor wretch -in his misery: the sunken, but yet glaring eyes; the emaciated cheeks; -the fallen mouth; the parched, sore lips; the face, now dry and hot, and -then suddenly clammy with drops of perspiration; the shaking hand, and -all but palsied limbs; and worse than this, the fearful mental efforts, -and the struggles for drink; struggles to which it is often necessary to -give way. - -Dr Fillgrave soon knew what was to be the man's fate; but he did what he -might to relieve it. There, in one big, best bedroom, looking out to the -north, lay Sir Louis Scatcherd, dying wretchedly. There, in the other -big, best bedroom, looking out to the south, had died the other baronet -about twelvemonth since, and each a victim of the same sin. To this had -come the prosperity of the house of Scatcherd! - -And then Dr Fillgrave went on to Greshamsbury. It was a long day's -work, both for himself and the horses; but then, the triumph of being -dragged up that avenue compensated for both the expense and the labour. -He always put on his sweetest smile as he came near the hall door, and -rubbed his hands in the most complaisant manner of which he knew. It was -seldom that he saw any of the family but Lady Arabella; but then he -desired to see none other, and when he left her in a good humour, was -quite content to take his glass of sherry and eat his lunch by himself. - -On this occasion, however, the servant at once asked him to go into the -dining-room, and there he found himself in the presence of Frank -Gresham. The fact was, that Lady Arabella, having at last decided, had -sent for Dr Thorne; and it had become necessary that some one should be -entrusted with the duty of informing Dr Fillgrave. That some one must be -the squire, or Frank. Lady Arabella would doubtless have preferred a -messenger more absolutely friendly to her own side of the house; but -such messenger there was none: she could not send Mr Gazebee to see the -doctor, and so, of the two evils, she chose the least. - -'Dr Fillgrave,' said Frank, shaking hands with him very cordially as he -came up, 'my mother is so much obliged to you for all your care and -anxiety on her behalf! and, so indeed, are we all.' - -The doctor shook hands with him very warmly. This little expression of -a family feeling on his behalf was the more gratifying, as he had always -thought that the males of the Greshamsbury family were still wedded to -that pseudo-doctor, that half-apothecary who lived in the village. - -'It has been awfully troublesome to you, coming over all this way, I am -sure. Indeed, money could not pay for it; my mother feels that. It must -cut up your time so much.' - -'Not at all, Mr Gresham; not at all,' said the Barchester doctor, rising -up on his toes proudly as he spoke. 'A person of your mother's -importance, you know! I should be happy to go any distance to see her.' - -'Ah! but, Dr Fillgrave, we cannot allow that.' - -'Mr Gresham, don't mention it.' - -'Oh, yes; but I must,' said Frank, who thought that he had done enough -for civility, and was now anxious to come to the point. 'The fact is, -doctor, that we are very much obliged for what you have done; but, for -the future, my mother thinks that she can trust to such assistance as -she can get here in the village.' - -Frank had been particularly instructed to be very careful how he -mentioned Dr Thorne's name, and, therefore, cleverly avoided it.' - -Get what assistance she wanted in the village! What words were those -that he heard? 'Mr Gresham, eh--hem--perhaps I do not completely--' Yes, -alas! he had completely understood what Frank had meant that he should -understand. Frank desired to be civil, but he had no idea of beating -unnecessarily about the bush on such an occasion as this. - -'It's by Sir Omicron's advice, Dr Fillgrave. You see, this man -here'--and he nodded his head towards the doctor's house, being still -anxious not to pronounce the hideous name--'has known my mother's -constitution for so many years.' - -'Oh, Mr Gresham; of course, if it is wished.' - -'Yes, Dr Fillgrave, it is wished. Lunch is coming directly:' and Frank -rang the bell. - -'Nothing, I thank you, Mr Gresham.' - -'Do take a glass of sherry.' - -'Nothing at all, I am very much obliged to you.' - -'Won't you let the horses get some oats?' - -'I will return at once, if you please, Mr Gresham.' And the doctor did -return, taking with him, on this occasion, the fee that was offered to -him. His experience had at any rate taught him so much. - -But though Frank could do this for Lady Arabella, he could not receive -Dr Thorne on her behalf. The bitterness of that interview had to be -borne by herself. A messenger had been sent for him, and he was upstairs -with her ladyship while his rival was receiving his conge downstairs. -She had two objects to accomplish, if it might be possible: she had -found that high words with the doctor were of no avail; but it might be -possible that Frank could be saved by humiliation on her part. If she -humbled herself before this man, would he consent to acknowledge that -his niece was not the fit bride for the heir of Greshamsbury? - -The doctor entered the room where she was lying on her sofa, and walking -up to her with a gentle, but yet not constrained step, took the seat -beside her little table, just as he had always been accustomed to do, -and as though there had been no break in the intercourse. - -'Well, doctor, you see that I have come back to you,' she said, with a -faint smile. - -'Or, rather I have come back to you. And, believe me, Lady Arabella, I -am very happy to do so. There need be no excuses. You were, doubtless, -right to try what other skill could do; and I hope it has not been tried -in vain.' - -She had meant to have been so condescending; but now all that was put -quite beyond her power. It was not easy to be condescending to the -doctor: she had been trying all her life, and had never succeeded. - -'I have had Sir Omicron Pie,' she said. - -'So I was glad to hear. Sir Omicron is a clever man, and has a good -name. I always recommend Sir Omicron myself.' - -'And Sir Omicron returns the compliment,' said she, smiling gracefully, -'for he recommends you. He told Mr Gresham that I was very foolish to -quarrel with my best friend. So now we are friends again, are we not? -You see how selfish I am.' And she put out her hand to him. - -The doctor took her hand cordially, and assured her that he bore her no -ill-will; that he fully understood her conduct--and that he had never -accused her of selfishness. This was all very well and very gracious; -but, nevertheless, Lady Arabella felt that the doctor kept the upper -hand in those sweet forgivenesses. Whereas, she had intended to keep the -upper hand, at least for a while, so that her humiliation might be more -effective when it did come. - -And then the doctor used his surgical lore, as he well knew how to use -it. There was an assured confidence about him, an air which seemed to -declare that he really knew what he was doing. These were very -comfortable to his patients, but they were wanting in Dr Fillgrave. When -he had completed his examinations and questions, and she had completed -her little details and made her answer, she was certainly more at ease -than she had been since the doctor had last left her. - -'Don't go yet, for a moment,' she said. 'I have one word to say to -you.' - -He declared that he was not in the least in a hurry. He desired nothing -better, he said, than to sit there and talk to her. 'And I owe you a -most sincere apology, Lady Arabella.' - -'A sincere apology!' said she, becoming a little red. Was he going to -say anything about Mary? Was he going to own that he, and Mary, and -Frank had all been wrong? - -'Yes, indeed. I ought not to have brought Sir Louis Scatcherd here: I -ought to have known that he would have disgraced himself.' - -'Oh! it does not signify,' said her ladyship in a tone almost of -disappointment. 'I had forgotten it. Mr Gresham and you had more -inconvenience than we had.' - -'He is an unfortunate, wretched man--most unfortunate; with an immense -fortune which he can never live to possess.' - -'And who will the money go to, doctor?' - -This was a question for which Dr Thorne was hardly prepared. 'Go to?' he -repeated. 'Oh, some member of the family, I believe. There are plenty of -nephews and nieces.' - -'Yes; but will it be divided, or all go to one?' - -'Probably to one, I think. Sir Roger had a strong idea of leaving it -all in one hand.' If it should happen to be a girl, thought Lady -Arabella, what an excellent opportunity would that be for Frank to marry -money! - -'And now, doctor, I want to say one word to you; considering the very -long time that we have known each other, it is better that I should be -open with you. This estrangement between us and dear Mary has given us -all so much pain. Cannot we do anything to put an end to it?' - -'Well, what can I say, Lady Arabella? That depends so wholly on -yourself.' - -'If it depends on me, it shall be done at once.' - -The doctor bowed. And though he could hardly be said to do so stiffly, -he did it coldly. His bow seemed to say, 'Certainly; if you choose to -make a proper amende it can be done. But I think it is very unlikely -that you will do so.' - -'Beatrice is just going to be married, you know that, doctor.' The -doctor said that he did know it. 'And it will be so pleasant that Mary -should make one of us. Poor Beatrice; you don't know what she has -suffered.' - -'Yes,' said the doctor, 'there has been suffering, I am sure; suffering -on both sides.' - -'You cannot wonder that we should be so anxious about Frank, Dr Thorne; -an only son, and the heir to an estate that has been so very long in the -family:' and Lady Arabella put her handkerchief to her eyes, as though -these facts were themselves melancholy, and not to be thought of by a -mother without some soft tears. 'Now I wish you could tell me what your -views are, in a friendly manner, between ourselves. You won't find me -unreasonable.' - -'My views, Lady Arabella?' - -'Yes, doctor; about your niece, you know: you must have views of some -sort; that's of course. It occurs to me, that perhaps were all in the -dark together. If so, a little candid speaking between you and me may -set it all right.' - -Lady Arabella's career had not hitherto been conspicuous for candour, as -far as Dr Thorne had been able to judge of it; but that was no reason -why he should not respond to so very becoming an invitation on her part. -He had no objection to a little candid speaking; at least, so he -declared. As to his views with regard to Mary, they were merely these: -that he would make her as happy and comfortable as he could while she -remained with him; and that he would give her his blessing--for he had -nothing else to give her--when she left him;--if ever she should do so. - -Now, it will be said that the doctor was not very candid in this; not -more so, perhaps, than was Lady Arabella herself. But when one is -specially invited to be candid, one is naturally set upon one's guard. -Those who by disposition are most open, are apt to become crafty when so -admonished. When a man says to you, 'Let us be candid with each other,' -you feel instinctively that he desires to squeeze you without giving a -drop of water himself. - -'Yes; but about Frank,' said Lady Arabella. - -'About Frank!' said the doctor, with an innocent look, which her -ladyship could hardly interpret. - -'What I mean is this: can you give me your word that these young people -do not intend to do anything rash? One word like that from you will set -my mind quite at rest. And then we could be so happy together again.' - -'Ah! who is to answer for what rash things a young man will do?' said -the doctor, smiling. - -Lady Arabella got up from the sofa, and pushed away the little table. -The man was false, hypocritical, and cunning. Nothing could be made of -him. They were all in a conspiracy together to rob her of her son; to -make him marry without money! What should she do? Where should she turn -for advice and counsel? She had nothing more to say to the doctor; and -he, perceiving that this was the case, took his leave. This little -attempt to achieve candour had not succeeded. - -Dr Thorne had answered Lady Arabella as had seemed best to him on the -spur of the moment; but he was by no means satisfied with himself. As he -walked away through the gardens, he bethought himself whether it would -be better for all parties if he could bring himself to be really candid. -Would it not be better for him at once to tell the squire what were the -future prospects of his niece, and let the father agree to the marriage, -or not agree to it, as he might think fit. But then, if so, if he did do -this, would he not in fact say, 'There is my niece, there is this girl -of whom you have been talking for the last twelvemonth, indifferent to -what agony of mind you may have occasioned to her; there she is, a -probable heiress! It may be worth your son's while to wait a little -time, and not cast her off till he shall know whether she be an heiress -or no. If it shall turn out that she is rich, let him take her; if not, -why, he can desert her then as well as now.' He could not bring himself -to put his niece into such a position as this. He was anxious enough -that she should be Frank Gresham's wife, for he loved Frank Gresham; he -was anxious enough, also, that she should give to her husband the means -of saving the property of his family. But Frank, though he might find -her rich, was bound to take her while she was poor. - -Then, also, he doubted whether he would be justified in speaking of this -will at all. He almost hated the will for the trouble and vexation it -had given him, and the constant stress it had laid on his conscience. He -had spoken of it as yet to no one, and he thought that he was resolved -not to do so while Sir Louis should yet be in the land of the living. - -On reaching home, he found a note from Lady Scatcherd, informing him -that Dr Fillgrave had once more been at Boxall Hill, and that, on this -occasion, he had left the house without anger. - -'I don't know what he has said about Louis,' she added, 'for, to tell -the truth, doctor, I was afraid to see him. But he comes again -to-morrow, and then I shall be braver. But I fear that my poor boy is in -a bad way.' - - - -CHAPTER XLI - -DOCTOR THORNE WON'T INTERFERE - -At this period there was, as it were, a truce to the ordinary little -skirmishes which had been so customary between Lady Arabella and the -squire. Things had so fallen out, that they neither of them had must -spirit for a contest; and, moreover, on that point which at the present -moment was most thought of by both of them, they were strangely in -unison. For each of them was anxious to prevent the threatened marriage -of their only son. - -It must, moreover, be remembered, that Lady Arabella had carried a great -point in ousting Mr Yates Umbleby and putting the management of the -estate into the hands of her own partisan. But then the squire had not -done less in getting rid of Fillgrave and reinstating Dr Thorne in -possession of the family invalids. The losses, therefore, had been -equal; the victories equal; and there was a mutual object. - -And it must be confessed, also, that Lady Arabella's taste for grandeur -was on the decline. Misfortune was coming too near to her to leave her -much anxiety for the gaieties of a London season. Things were not faring -well with her. When her eldest daughter was going to marry a man of -fortune, and a member of Parliament, she had thought nothing of -demanding a thousand pounds or so for the extraordinary expenses -incident to such an occasion. But now, Beatrice was to become the wife -of a parish parson, and even that was thought to be a fortunate event; -she had, therefore, no heart for splendour. - -'The quieter we can do it the better,' she wrote to her countess-sister. -'Her father wanted to give him at least a thousand pounds; but Mr -Gazebee has told me confidentially that it literally cannot be done at -the present moment! Ah, my dear Rosina! how things have been managed! If -one or two of the girls will come over, we shall all take it as a -favour. Beatrice would think it very kind of them. But I don't think of -asking you or Amelia.' Amelia was always the grandest of the De Courcy -family, being almost on an equality with--nay, in some respect superior -to--the countess herself. But this, of course, was before the days of -the place in Surrey. - -Such, and so humble being the present temper of the lady of -Greshamsbury, it will not be thought surprising that she and Mr Gresham -should at last come together in their efforts to reclaim their son. - -At first Lady Arabella urged upon the squire the duty of being very -peremptory and very angry. 'Do as other fathers do in such cases. Make -him understand that he will have no allowance to live on.' 'He -understands that well enough,' said Mr Gresham. - -'Threaten to cut him off with a shilling,' said her ladyship, with -spirit. 'I haven't a shilling to cut him off with,' answered the squire, -bitterly. - -But Lady Arabella herself soon perceived, that this line would not do. -As Mr Gresham himself confessed, his own sins against his son had been -to great to allow of his taking a high hand with him. Besides, Mr -Gresham was not a man who could ever be severe with a son whose -individual conduct had been so good as Frank's. This marriage, was, in -his view, a misfortune to be averted if possible,--to be averted by any -possible means; but, as far as Frank was concerned, it was to be -regarded rather as a monomania than a crime. - -'I did feel so certain that he would have succeeded with Miss -Dunstable,' said the mother, almost crying. - -'I thought it impossible but that at his age a twelvemonth knocking -about the world would cure him,' said the father. - -'I never heard of a boy being so obstinate about a girl,' said the -mother. 'I'm sure he didn't get it from the De Courcys:' and then, -again, they talked it over in all its bearings. - -'But what are they to live upon?' said Lady Arabella, appealing, as it -were, to some impersonation of reason. 'That's what I want him to tell -me. What are they to live upon?' - -'I wonder whether De Courcy could get him into some embassy?' said the -father. 'He does talk of a profession.' - -'What! with the girl and all?' asked Lady Arabella with horror, alarmed -at the idea of such an appeal being made to her noble brother. - -'No; but before he marries. He might be broken of it that way.' - -'Nothing will break him,' said the wretched mother; 'nothing--nothing. -For my part, I think that he is possessed. Why was she brought here? Oh, -dear! oh, dear! Why was she ever brought into this house?' - -This last question Mr Gresham did not think it necessary to answer. That -evil had been done, and it would be useless to dispute it. 'I'll tell -you what I'll do,' said he. 'I'll speak to the doctor myself.' - -'It's not the slightest use,' said Lady Arabella. 'He will not assist -us. Indeed, I firmly believe it's all his own doing.' - -'Oh, nonsense! that really is nonsense, my love.' - -'Very well, Mr Gresham. What I say is always nonsense, I know; you have -always told me so. But yet, see how things have turned out. I knew how -it would be when she was first brought into the house.' This assertion -was rather a stretch on the part of Lady Arabella. - -'Well, it is nonsense to say that Frank is in love with the girl at the -doctor's bidding.' - -'I think you know, Mr Gresham, that I don't mean that. What I say is -this, that Dr Thorne, finding what an easy fool Frank is--' - -'I don't think he's at all easy, my love; and is certainly not a fool.' - -'Very well, have it your own way. I'll not say a word more. I'm -struggling to do my best, and I'm browbeaten on every side. God knows I -am not in a state of health to bear it!' And Lady Arabella bowed her -head into her pocket-handkerchief. - -'I think, my dear, if you were to see Mary herself it might do some -good,' said the squire, when the violence of his wife's grief had -somewhat subsided. - -'What! go and call upon this girl?' - -'Yes; you can send Beatrice to give her notice, you know. She never was -unreasonable, and I do not think that you would find her so. You should -tell her, you know--' - -'Oh, I should know very well what to tell her, Mr Gresham.' - -'Yes, my love; I'm sure you would; nobody better. But what I mean is, -that if you are to do any good, you should be kind in your manner. Mary -Thorne has a spirit that you cannot break. You may perhaps lead, but -nobody can drive her.' - -As this scheme originated with her husband, Lady Arabella could not, of -course, confess that there was much in it. But, nevertheless, she -determined to attempt it, thinking that if anything could be efficacious -for good in their present misfortunes, it would be her own diplomatic -powers. It was, therefore, at last settled between them, that he should -endeavour to talk over the doctor, and that she would do the same with -Mary. - -'And then I will speak to Frank,' said Lady Arabella. 'As yet he has -never had the audacity to open his mouth to me about Mary Thorne, though -I believe he declares his love openly to every one else in the house.' - -'And I will get Oriel to speak to him,' said the squire. - -'I think Patience might do more good. I did once think he was getting -fond of Patience, and I was quite unhappy about it then. Ah, dear! I -should be almost pleased at that now.' - -And thus it was arranged that all the artillery of Greshamsbury was to -be brought to bear at once on Frank's love, so as to crush it, as it -were, by the very weight of metal. - -It may be imagined that the squire would have less scruple in addressing -the doctor on this matter than his wife would feel; and that his part of -their present joint undertaking was less difficult than hers. For he and -the doctor had ever been friends at heart. But, nevertheless, he did -feel much scruple, as, with his stick in hand, he walked down to the -little gate which opened out near the doctor's house. - -This feeling was so strong, that he walked on beyond this door to the -entrance, thinking of what he was going to do, and then back again. It -seemed to be his fate to be depending always on the clemency or -consideration of Dr Thorne. At this moment the doctor was imposing the -only obstacle which was offered to the sale of a great part of his -estate. Sir Louis, through his lawyer, was loudly accusing the doctor to -sell, and the lawyer was loudly accusing the doctor of delaying to do -so. 'He has the management of your property,' said Mr Finnie; 'but he -manages it in the interest of his own friend. It is quite clear, and we -will expose it.' 'By all means,' said Sir Louis. 'It is a d--d shame, -and it shall be exposed.' - -When he reached the doctor's house, he was shown into the drawing-room, -and found Mary there alone. It had always been the habit to kiss her -forehead when he chanced to meet her about the house at Greshamsbury. -She had been younger and more childish then; but even now she was but a -child to him, so he kissed her as he had been wont to do. She blushed -slightly as she looked up into his face, and said: 'Oh, Mr Gresham, I am -so glad to see you again.' - -As he looked at her he could not but acknowledge that it was natural -that Frank should love her. He had never before seen that she was -attractive;--had never had an opinion about it. She had grown up as a -child under his eye; and as she had not had the name of being especially -a pretty child, he had never thought on the subject. Now he saw before -him a woman whose every feature was full of spirit and animation; whose -eye sparkled with more than mere brilliancy; whose face was full of -intelligence; whose very smile was eloquent. Was it to be wondered at -that Frank should have learned to love her? - -Miss Thorne wanted but one attribute which many consider essential to -feminine beauty. She had no brilliancy of complexion, no pearly -whiteness, no vivid carnation; nor, indeed, did she possess the dark -brilliance of a brunette. But there was a speaking earnestness in her -face; and expression of mental faculty which the squire now for the -first time perceived to be charming. - -And then he knew how good she was. He knew well what was her nature; -how generous, how open, how affectionate, and yet how proud! Her pride -was her fault; but even that was not a fault in his eyes. Out of his own -family there was no one whom he had loved, and could love, as he loved -her. He felt, and acknowledged, that no man could have a better wife. -And yet he was there with the express object of rescuing his son from -such a marriage! - -'You are looking very well, Mary,' he said, almost involuntarily. 'Am -I?' she answered, smiling. 'It's very nice at any rate to be -complimented. Uncle never pays me any compliments of that sort.' - -In truth, she was looking well. She would say to herself over and over -again, from morning to night, that Frank's love for her would be, must -be, unfortunate; could not lead to happiness. But, nevertheless, it did -make her happy. She had before his return made up her mind to be -forgotten, and it was so sweet to find that he had been so far from -forgetting her. A girl may scold a man in words for rashness in his -love, but her heart never scolds him for such an offence as that. She -had not been slighted, and her heart, therefore, still rose buoyant -within her breast. - -The doctor entered the room. As the squire's visit had been expected by -him, he had of course not been out of the house. 'And now I suppose I -must go,' said Mary; 'for I know you are going to talk about business. -But, uncle, Mr Gresham says I'm looking very well. Why have you not been -able to find that out?' - -'She's a dear, good girl,' said the squire, as the door shut behind her; -'a dear good girl!' and the doctor could not fail to see that his eyes -were filled with tears. - -'I think she is,' said he, quietly. And then they both sat silent, as -though each was waiting to hear whether the other had anything more to -say on that subject. The doctor, at any rate, had nothing more to say. - -'I have come here specially to speak to you about her.' - -'About Mary?' - -'Yes, doctor; about her and Frank: something must be done, some -arrangement made: if not for our sakes, at least for theirs.' - -'What arrangement, squire?' - -'Ah! that's the question. I take it for granted that either Frank or -Mary has told you that they have engaged themselves to each other.' - -'Frank told me some twelve months since.' - -'And has not Mary told you?' - -'Not exactly that. But, never mind; she has, I believe, no secret from -me. Though I have said but little to her, I think I know it all.' - -'Well, what then?' - -The doctor shook his head and put up his hands. He had nothing to say; -no proposition to make; no arrangement to suggest. The thing was so, and -he seemed to say that, as far as he was concerned, there was an end of -it. - -The squire sat looking at him, hardly knowing how to proceed. It seemed -to him, that the fact of a young man and a young lady being in love with -each other was not a thing to be left to arrange itself, particularly -seeing the rank in life in which they were placed. But the doctor seemed -to be of a different opinion. - -'But, Dr Thorne, there is no man on God's earth who knows my affairs as -well as you do; and in knowing mine, you know Frank's. Do you think it -possible that they should marry each other?' - -'Possible; yes, it is possible. You mean, will it be prudent?' - -'Well, take it in that way; would it not be most imprudent?' - -'At present, it certainly would be. I have never spoken to either of -them on the subject; but I presume they do not think of such a thing for -the present.' - -'But, doctor--' The squire was certainly taken aback by the coolness of -the doctor's manner. After all, he, the squire, was Mr Gresham of -Greshamsbury, generally acknowledged to be the first commoner in -Barsetshire; after all, Frank was his heir, and, in process of time, he -would be Mr Gresham of Greshamsbury. Crippled as the estate was, there -would be something left, and the rank at any rate remained. But as to -Mary, she was not even the doctor's daughter. She was not only -penniless, but nameless, fatherless, worse than motherless! It was -incredible that Dr Thorne, with his generally exalted ideas as to -family, should speak in this cold way as to a projected marriage between -the heir of Greshamsbury and his brother's bastard child! - -'But, doctor,' repeated the squire. - -The doctor put one leg over the other, and began to rub his calf. -'Squire,' said he. 'I think I know all that you would say, all that you -mean. And you don't like to say it, because you would not wish to pain -me by alluding to Mary's birth.' - -'But, independently of that, what would they live on?' said the squire, -energetically. 'Birth is a great thing, a very great thing. You and I -think exactly the alike about that, so we need have no dispute. You are -quite as proud of Ullathorne as I am of Greshamsbury.' - -'I might be if it belonged to me.' - -'But you are. It is no use arguing. But, putting that aside -altogether, what would they live on? If they were to marry, what would -they do? Where would they go? You know what Lady Arabella thinks of such -things; would it be possible that they should live up at the house with -her? Besides, what a life would that be for both of them! Could they -live here? Would that be well for them?' - -The squire looked at the doctor for an answer; but he still went rubbing -his calf. Mr Gresham, therefore, was constrained to continue his -expostulation. - -'When I am dead there will still, I hope, be something;--something left -for the poor fellow. Lady Arabella and the girls would be better off, -perhaps, than now, and I sometimes wish, for Frank's sake, that the time -had come.' - -The doctor could not now go on rubbing his knees. He was moved to -speak, and declared that, of all events, that was the one which would be -furthest from Frank's heart. 'I know no son,' said he, 'who loves his -father more dearly than he does.' - -'I do believe it,' said the squire; 'I do believe it. But yet, I cannot -but feel that I am in his way.' - -'No, squire, no; you are in no one's way. You will find yourself happy -with your son yet, and proud of him. And proud of his wife, too. I hope -so, and I think so: I do, indeed, or I should not say so, squire; we -will have many a happy day yet together, when we shall talk of all these -things over the dining-room fire at Greshamsbury.' - -The squire felt it kind in the doctor that he should thus endeavour to -comfort him; but he could not understand, and did not inquire, on what -basis these golden hopes was founded. It was necessary, however, to -return to the subject which he had come to discuss. Would the doctor -assist him in preventing this marriage? That was now the one thing -necessary to be kept in view. - -'But, doctor, about the young people; of course they cannot marry, you -are aware of that.' - -'I don't know that exactly.' - -'Well, doctor, I must say I thought you would feel it.' - -'Feel what, squire?' - -'That, situated as they are, they ought not to marry.' - -'That is quite another question. I have said nothing about that either -to you or to anybody else. The truth is, squire, I have never interfered -in this matter one way or the other; and I have no wish to do so now.' - -'But should you not interfere? Is not Mary the same to you as your own -child?' - -Dr Thorne hardly knew how to answer this. He was aware that his -argument about not interfering was in fact absurd. Mary could not marry -without his interference; and had it been the case that she was in -danger of making an improper marriage, of course he would interfere. His -meaning was, that he would not at the present moment express any -opinion; he would not declare against a match which might turn out to be -in every way desirable; nor, if he spoke in favour of it, could he give -his reasons for doing so. Under these circumstances, he would have -wished to say nothing, could that only have been possible. - -But as it was not possible, and as he must say something, he answered -the squire's last question by asking another. 'What is your objection, -squire?' - -'Objection! Why, what on earth would they live on?' - -'Then I understand, that if that difficulty were over, you would not -refuse your consent merely because of Mary's birth?' - -This was a manner in which the squire had by no means expected to have -the affair presented to him. It seemed so impossible that any -sound-minded man should take any but his view of the case, that he had -not prepared himself for argument. There was every objection to his son -marrying Miss Thorne; but the fact of their having no income between -them did certainly justify him in alleging that first. - -'But that difficulty can't be got over, doctor. You know, however, that -it would be cause of grief to us all to see Frank marry much beneath his -station; that is, I mean, in family. You should not press me to say -this, for you know that I love Mary dearly.' - -'But, my dear friend, it is necessary. Wounds sometimes must be opened -in order that they may be healed. What I mean is this;--and, squire, I'm -sure I need not say to you that I hope for an honest answer,--were Mary -Thorne an heiress; had she, for instance, such wealth as that Miss -Dunstable that we hear of; in that case would you object to this match?' - -When the doctor declared that he expected an honest answer the squire -listened with all his ears; but the question, when finished, seemed to -have no bearing on the present case. - -'Come, squire, speak your mind faithfully. There was some talk of -Frank's marrying Miss Dunstable; did you mean to object to that match?' - -'Miss Dunstable was legitimate; at least, I presume so.' - -'Oh, Mr Gresham! has it come to that? Miss Dunstable, then, would have -satisfied your ideas of high birth?' - -Mr Gresham was rather posed, and regretted, at the moment, his allusion -to Miss Dunstable's presumed legitimacy. But he soon recovered himself. -'No,' said he, 'it would not. And I am willing to admit, as I have -admitted before, that the undoubted advantages arising from wealth are -taken by the world as atoning for what otherwise would be a mesalliance. -But--' - -'You admit that, do you? You acknowledge that as your conviction on the -subject?' - -'Yes. But--' The squire was going on to explain the propriety of this -opinion, but the doctor uncivilly would not hear him. - -'Then squire, I will not interfere in this matter one way or the other.' - -'How on earth can such an opinion--' - -'Pray excuse me, Mr Gresham; but my mind is now quite made up. It was -very nearly so before. I will do nothing to encourage Frank, nor will I -say anything to discourage Mary.' - -'That is the most singular resolution that a man of sense like you ever -came to.' - -'I can't help it, squire; it is my resolution.' - -'But what has Miss Dunstable's fortune to do with it?' - -'I cannot say that it has anything; but, in this matter, I will not -interfere.' - -The squire went on for some time, but it was all to no purpose; and at -last he left the house, considerably in dudgeon. The only conclusion to -which he could come was, that Dr Thorne had thought the chance on his -niece's behalf too good to be thrown away, and had, therefore, resolved -to act in a very singular way. - -'I would not have believed it of him, though all Barsetshire had told -me,' he said to himself as he entered the great gates; and he went on -repeating the same words till he found himself in his own room. 'No, not -if all Barsetshire had told me!' - -He did not, however, communicate the ill result of his visit to the Lady -Arabella. - - - -CHAPTER XLII - -WHAT CAN YOU GIVE IN RETURN? - -In spite of the family troubles, these were happy days for Beatrice. It -so seldom happens that young ladies on the eve of their marriage have -their husbands living near them. This happiness was hers, and Mr Oriel -made the most of it. She was constantly being coaxed down to the -parsonage by Patience, in order that she might give her opinion, in -private, on some domestic arrangement, some piece of furniture, or some -new carpet; but this privacy was always invaded. What Mr Oriel's -parishioners did in these halcyon days, I will not ask. His morning -services, however, had been altogether given up, and he had provided -himself with a very excellent curate. - -But one grief did weigh heavily on Beatrice. She continually heard her -mother say things which made her feel that it would be more than ever -impossible that Mary should be at her wedding; and yet she had promised -her brother to ask her. Frank had also repeated his threat, that if Mary -were not present, he would absent himself. - -Beatrice did what most girls do in such a case; what all would do who -are worth anything; she asked her lover's advice. - -'Oh! but Frank can't be in earnest,' said the lover. 'Of course he'll -be at our wedding.' - -'You don't know him, Caleb. He is so changed that no one hardly would -know him. You can't conceive how much in earnest he is, how determined -and resolute. And then, I should like to have Mary so much if mamma -would let her come.' - -'Ask Lady Arabella,' said Caleb. - -'Well, I suppose I must do that; but I know what she'll say, and Frank -will never believe that I have done my best.' Mr Oriel comforted her -with such little whispered consolations as he was able to afford, and -then she went away on her errand to her mother. - -She was indeed surprised at the manner in which her prayer was received. -She could hardly falter forth her petition; but when she had done so, -Lady Arabella answered in this wise:- - -'Well my dear, I have no objection, none the least; that is, of course, -if Mary is disposed to behave herself properly.' - -'Oh, mamma! of course she will,' said Beatrice; 'she always did and -always does.' - -'I hope she will, my love. But, Beatrice, when I say that I shall be -glad to see her, of course I mean under certain conditions. I never -disliked Mary Thorne, and if she would only let Frank understand that -she will not listen to his mad proposals, I should be delighted to see -her at Greshamsbury just as she used to be.' - -Beatrice could say nothing in answer to this; but she felt very sure -that Mary, let her intention be what it might, would not undertake to -make Frank understand anything at anybody's bidding. - -'I will tell you what I will do, my dear,' continued Lady Arabella; 'I -will call on Mary myself.' - -'What! at Dr Thorne's house?' - -'Yes; why not? I have been at Dr Thorne's house before now.' And Lady -Arabella could not but think of her last visit thither, and the strong -feeling she had, as she came out, that she would never again enter those -doors. She was, however, prepared to do anything on behalf of her -rebellious son. - -'Oh, yes! I know that, mamma.' - -'I will call upon her, and I can possibly manage it, I will ask her -myself to make one of your party. If so, you can go to her afterwards -and make your own arrangements. Just write her a note, my dear, and say -that I will call to-morrow at twelve. It might fluster her if I were to -go without notice.' - -Beatrice did as she was bid, but with a presentiment that no good would -come of it. The note was certainly unnecessary for the purpose assigned -by Lady Arabella, as Mary was not given to be flustered by such -occurrences; but, perhaps, it was as well as that it was written, as it -enabled her to make up her mind steadily as to what information should -be given, and what should not be given to her coming visitor. - -On the next morning, at the appointed hour, Lady Arabella walked down to -the doctor's house. She never walked about the village without making -some little disturbance among the inhabitants. With the squire, himself, -they were quite familiar, and he could appear and reappear without -creating any sensation; but her ladyship had not made herself equally -common in men's sight. Therefore, when she went through all the -Greshamsbury in ten minutes, and before she had left the house, Mrs -Umbleby and Miss Gushing had quite settled between them what was the -exact cause of the very singular event. - -The doctor, when he had heard what was going to happen, carefully kept -out of the way: Mary, therefore, had the pleasure of receiving Lady -Arabella alone. Nothing could exceed her ladyship's affability. Mary -thought that it perhaps might have savoured less of condescension; but -then on this subject, Mary was probably prejudiced. Lady Arabella smiled -and simpered, and asked after the doctor, and the cat, and Janet, and -said everything that could be desired by any one less unreasonable than -Mary Thorne. - -'And now, Mary, I'll tell you why I have called.' Mary bowed her head -slightly, as much to say, that she would be glad to receive any -information that Lady Arabella could give her on that subject. 'Of -course you know that Beatrice is going to be married very shortly.' - -Mary acknowledged that she had heard so much. - -'Yes: we think it will be in September--early in September--and that is -coming very soon now. The poor girl is anxious that you should be at her -wedding.' Mary turned slightly red; but she merely said, and that -somewhat too coldly, that she was much indebted to Beatrice for her -kindness. - -'I can assure you, Mary, that she is very fond of you, as much as ever; -and so, indeed, am I, and all of us are so. You know that Mr Gresham was -always your friend.' - -'Yes, he always was, and I am grateful to Mr Gresham,' answered Mary. It -was well for Lady Arabella that she had her temper under command, for -had she spoken her mind out there would have been very little chance -left for reconciliation between her and Mary. - -'Yes, indeed he was; and I think we all did what little we could to make -you welcome at Greshamsbury, Mary, till those unpleasant occurrences -took place.' - -'What occurrences, Lady Arabella?' - -'And Beatrice is so very anxious on this point,' said her ladyship, -ignoring for the moment Mary's question. 'You two have been so much -together, that she feels she cannot be quite happy if you are not near -her when she is being married.' - -'Dear Beatrice!' said Mary, warmed for the moment to an expression of -genuine feeling. - -'She came to me yesterday, begging that I would waive any objection I -might have to your being there. I have made her no answer yet. What -answer do you think I ought to make her?' - -Mary was astounded at this question, and hesitated in her reply. 'What -answer do you think I ought to make her?' she said. - -'Yes, Mary. What answer to you think I ought to give? I wish to ask -you the question, as you are the person the most concerned.' - -Mary considered for a while, then did give her opinion on the matter in -a firm voice. 'I think you should tell Beatrice, that as you cannot at -present receive me cordially in your house, it will be better that you -should not be called upon to receive me at all.' - -This was certainly not the sort of answer that Lady Arabella expected, -and she was now somewhat astounded in her turn. 'But, Mary,' she said, -'I should be delighted to receive you cordially if I could do so.' - -'But it seems you cannot, Lady Arabella; and so there must be an end of -it.' - -'On, but I do not know that:' and she smiled her sweetest smile. 'I do -not know that. I want to put an end to all this ill-feeling, if I can. -It all depends upon one thing, you know.' - -'Does it, Lady Arabella?' - -'Yes, upon one thing. You won't be angry if I ask you another -question--eh, Mary?' - -'No; at least I don't think I will.' - -'Is there any truth in what we hear about your being engaged to Frank?' - -Mary made no immediate answer to this; but sat quite silent, looking at -Lady Arabella in the face; not but that she had made up her mind as to -what answer she would give, but the exact words failed her at the -moment. - -'Of course you must have heard of such a rumour.' - -'Oh, yes, I have heard of it.' - -'Yes, and you have noticed it, and I must say very properly. When you -went to Boxall Hill, and before that with Miss Oriel's to her aunt's, I -thought you behaved extremely well.' Mary felt herself glow with -indignation, and began to prepare the words that should be sharp and -decisive. 'But, nevertheless, people talk; and Frank, who is still quite -a boy' (Mary's indignation was not softened by this allusion to Frank's -folly), 'seems to have got some nonsense in his head. I grieve to say -it, but I feel myself in justice bound to do so, that in this matter he -has not acted as well as you have done. Now, therefore, I merely ask you -whether there is any truth in the report. If you tell me that there is -none, I shall be quite contented.' - -'But it is altogether true, Lady Arabella; I am engaged to him.' - -'Engaged to be married to him?' - -'Yes; engaged to be married to him.' - -What was to say or do now? Nothing could be more plain, more decided, -or less embarrassed with doubt than Mary's declaration. And as she made -it she looked her visitor full in the face, blushing indeed, for her -cheeks were now suffused as well as her forehead; but boldly, and, as it -were, with defiance. - -'And you tell me that to my face, Miss Thorne?' - -'And why not? Did you not ask me the question; and would you have my -answer you with a falsehood? I am engaged to him. As you would put the -question to me, what other could I make? The truth is, I am engaged to -him.' - -The decisive abruptness with which Mary declared her own iniquity almost -took away her ladyship's breath. She had certainly believed that they -were engaged, and had hardly hoped that Mary would deny it; but she had -not expected that the crime would be acknowledged, or, at any rate, if -acknowledged, that the confession would be made without some show of -shame. On this Lady Arabella could have worked; but there was no such -expression, nor was there the slightest hesitation. 'I am engaged to -Frank Gresham,' and having so said, Mary looked at her visitor full in -the face. - -'Then it is indeed impossible that you should be received at -Greshamsbury.' - -'At present, quite so, no doubt: in saying so, Lady Arabella, you only -repeat the answer I made to your first question. I can now go to -Greshamsbury only in one light: that of Mr Gresham's accepted -daughter-in-law.' - -'And that is perfectly out of the question; altogether out of the -question, now and for ever.' - -'I will not dispute with you about that; but, as I said before, my being -at Beatrice's wedding is not to be thought of.' - -Lady Arabella sat for a while silent, that she might meditate, if -possible, calmly as to what line of argument she had now better take. It -would be foolish in her, she thought, to return home, having merely -expressed her anger. She had now an opportunity of talking to Mary which -might not again occur: the difficulty was in deciding in what special -way she should use the opportunity. Should she threaten, or should she -entreat? To do her justice, it should be stated, that she did actually -believe that the marriage was all but impossible; she did not think that -it would take place. But the engagement might be the ruin of her son's -prospects, seeing how he had before him an imperative, one immediate -duty--that of marrying money. - -Having considered all this as well as her hurry would allow her, she -determined first to reason, then to entreat, and lastly, if necessary, -to threaten. - -'I am astonished! you cannot be surprised at that, Miss Thorne: I am -astonished at hearing so singular confession made.' - -'Do you think my confession singular, or is it the fact of my being -engaged to your son?' - -'We will pass over that for the present. But do let me ask you, do you -think it possible, I say possible, that you and Frank should be -married?' - -'Oh, certainly; quite possible.' - -'Of course you know that he has not a shilling in the world.' - -'Nor have I, Lady Arabella.' - -'Nor will he have were he to do anything so utterly hostile to his -father's wishes. The property, as you are aware, is altogether at Mr -Gresham's disposal.' - -'I am aware of nothing about the property, and can say nothing about it -except this, that it has not been, and will not be inquired after by me -in this matter. If I marry Frank Gresham, it will not be for the -property. I am sorry to make such an apparent boast, but you force me to -do it.' - -'On what then are you to live? You are too old for love in a cottage, I -suppose?' - -'Not at all too old; Frank, you know is "still quite a boy".' - -Impudent hussy! forward, ill-conditioned saucy minx! such were the -epithets which rose to Lady Arabella's mind; but she politely suppressed -them. - -'Miss Thorne, this subject is of course to me very serious; very -ill-adapted for jesting. I look upon such a marriage as absolutely -impossible.' - -'I do not know what you mean by impossible, Lady Arabella.' - -'I mean, in the first place, that you two could not get yourselves -married.' - -'Oh, yes; Mr Oriel would manage that for us. We are his parishioners, -and he would be bound to do it.' - -'I beg your pardon; I believe that under all the circumstances it would -be illegal.' - -Mary smiled; but she said nothing. 'You may laugh, Miss Thorne, but I -think you will find that I am right. There are still laws to prevent -such fearful distress as would be brought about by such a marriage.' - -'I hope that nothing I shall do will bring distress on the family.' - -'Ah, but it would; don't you know that it would? Think of it, Miss -Thorne. Think of Frank's state, and of his father's state. You know -enough of that, I am sure, to be well aware that Frank is not in a -condition to marry without money. Think of the position which Mr -Gresham's only son should hold in the county; think of the old name, and -the pride we have in it; you have lived among us enough to understand -all this; think of these things, and then say whether it is possible -that such a marriage should take place without family distress of the -deepest kind. Think of Mr Gresham; if you truly love my son, you could -not wish to bring on him all this misery and ruin.' - -Mary now was touched, for there was truth in what Lady Arabella said. -But she had no power of going back; her troth was plighted, and nothing -any human being could say should take her from it. If he, indeed, chose -to repent, that would be another thing. - -'Lady Arabella,' she said, 'I have nothing to say in favour of this -engagement, except that he wishes it.' - -'And is this a reason, Mary?' - -'To me it is; not only a reason, but a law. I have given him my -promise.' - -'And you will keep your promise even to his own ruin?' - -'I hope not. Our engagement, unless he shall choose to break it off, -must necessarily be a long one; but the time will come--' - -'What! when Mr Gresham is dead?' - -'Before that, I hope.' - -'There is no probability of it. And because he is headstrong, you, who -have always had credit for so much sense, will hold him to this mad -engagement?' - -'No, Lady Arabella; I will not hold him to anything to which he does not -wish to be held. Nothing that you can say shall move me: nothing that -anybody can say shall induce me to break my promise to him. But a word -from himself will do it. One look will be sufficient. Let him give me to -understand, in any way, that his love for me is injurious to him--that -he has learnt to think so--and then I will renounce my part in this -engagement as quickly as you could wish it.' - -There was much in this promise, but still not so much as Lady Arabella -wished to get. Mary, she knew, was obstinate, yet reasonable; Frank, she -thought, was both obstinate and unreasonable. It might be possible to -work on Mary's reason, but quite impossible to touch Frank's -irrationality. So she persevered--foolishly. - -'Miss Thorne--that, is, Mary, for I still wish to be thought your -friend--' - -'I will tell you the truth, Lady Arabella: for some considerable time -past I have not thought you so.' - -'Then you have wronged me. But I will go on with what I was saying. You -quite acknowledge that this is a foolish affair?' - -'I acknowledge no such thing.' - -'Something very much like it. You have not a word to say in its -defence.' - -'Not to you: I do not choose to be put on my defence by you.' - -'I don't know who has more right; however, you promise that if Frank -wishes it, you will release him from his engagement.' - -'Release him! It is for him to release me, that is, if he wishes it.' - -'Very well; at any rate, you give him permission to do so. But will it -not be more honourable for you to begin?' - -'No; I think not.' - -'Ah, but it would. If he, in his position, should be the first to -speak, the first to suggest that this affair between you is a foolish -one, what would people say?' - -'They would say the truth.' - -'And what would you yourself say?' - -'Nothing.' - -'What would he think himself?' - -'Ah, that I do not know. It is according as that may be, that he will -or will not act at your bidding.' - -'Exactly; and because you know him to be high-minded, because you think -that he, having so much to give, will not break his word to you--to you -who have nothing to give in return--it is, therefore, that you say that -the first step must be taken by him. It that noble?' - -Then Mary rose from her seat, for it was no longer possible for her to -speak what it was in her to say, sitting there leisurely on her sofa. -Lady Arabella's worship of money had not hitherto been so brought -forward in the conversation as to give her unpardonable offence; but now -she felt that she could no longer restrain her indignation. 'To you who -have nothing to give in return!' Had she not given all that she -possessed? Had she not emptied his store into her lap? that heart of -hers, beating with such genuine life, capable of such perfect love, -throbbing with so grand a pride; had she not given that? And was it not -that, between him and her, more than twenty Greshamsburys, nobler than -any pedigree? 'To you who have nothing to give,' indeed! This to her who -was so ready to give everything! - -'Lady Arabella,' she said, 'I think that you do not understand me, and -that it is not likely that you should. If so, our further talking will -be worse than useless. I have taken no account of what will be given -between your son and me in your sense of the word giving. But he has -professed to--to love me'--as she spoke, she still looked on the lady's -face, but her eyelashes screened her eyes, and her colour was a little -heightened--'and I have acknowledged that I also love him, and so we are -engaged. To me my promise is sacred. I will not be threatened into -breaking it. If, however, he shall wish to change his mind, he can do -so. I will not upbraid him; will not, if I can help it, think harshly of -him. So much you may tell him if it suits you; but I will not listen to -your calculations as to how much or how little each of us may have to -give to the other.' - -She was still standing when she finished speaking, and so she continued -to stand. Her eyes were fixed on Lady Arabella, and her position seemed -to say that sufficient words had been spoken, and that it was time that -her ladyship should go; and so Lady Arabella felt it. Gradually she also -rose; slowly, but tacitly, she acknowledged that she was in the presence -of a spirit superior to her own; and so she took her leave. - -'Very well,' she said, in a tone that was intended to be grandiloquent, -but which failed grievously; 'I will tell him that he has your -permission to think a second time on this matter. I do not doubt that he -will do so.' Mary would not condescend to answer, but curtsied low as -her visitor left the room. And so the interview was over. - -The interview was over, and Mary was alone. She remained standing as -long as she heard the footsteps of Frank's mother on the stairs; not -immediately thinking of what had passed, but still buoying herself up -with her hot indignation, as though her work with Lady Arabella was not -yet finished; but when the footfall was no longer heard, and the sound -of the closing door told her that she was in truth alone, she sank back -in her seat, and, covering her face with her hands, burst into bitter -tears. - -All that doctrine about money was horrible to her; that insolent -pretence, that she had caught at Frank because of his worldly position, -made her all but ferocious; but Lady Arabella had not the less spoken -much that was true. She did think of the position which the heir of -Greshamsbury should hold in the county, and of the fact that such a -marriage would mar that position so vitally; she did think of the old -name, and the old Gresham pride; she did think of the squire and his -deep distress: it was true that she had lived among them long enough to -understand these things, and to know that it was not possible that this -marriage should take place without deep family sorrow. - -And then she asked herself whether, in consenting to accept Frank's -hand, she had adequately considered this; and she was forced to -acknowledge that she had not considered it. She had ridiculed Lady -Arabella for saying that Frank was still a boy; but was it not true that -his offer had been made with a boy's energy, rather than a man's -forethought? If so, if she had been wrong to accede to that offer when -made, would she not be doubly wrong to hold him to it now that she saw -his error? - -It was doubtless true that Frank himself could not be the first to draw -back. What would people say of him? She could now calmly ask herself the -question that had so angered her, when asked by Lady Arabella. If he -could not do it, and if, nevertheless, it behoved them to break off this -match, by whom was it to be done if not by her? Was not Lady Arabella -right throughout, right in her conclusions, though so foully wrong in -her manner of drawing them? - -And then she did think for one moment of herself. 'You who have nothing -to give in return!' Such had been Lady Arabella's main accusation -against her. Was it in fact true that she had nothing to give? Her -maiden love, her feminine pride, her very life, and spirit, and -being--were these things nothing? Were they to be weighed against pounds -sterling per annum? and, when so weighed, were they ever to kick the -beam like feathers? All these things had been nothing to her when, -without reflection, governed wholly by the impulse of the moment, she -had first allowed his daring hand to lie for an instant in her own. She -had thought nothing of these things when that other suitor came, richer -far than Frank, to love whom it was impossible to her as it was not to -love him. - -Her love had been pure from all such thoughts; she was conscious that it -ever would be pure from them. Lady Arabella was unable to comprehend -this, and, therefore, was Lady Arabella so utterly distasteful to her. - -Frank had once held her close to his warm breast; and her very soul had -thrilled with joy to feel that he so loved her,--with a joy which she -hardly dared to acknowledge. At that moment, her maidenly efforts had -been made to push him off, but her heart had grown to his. She had -acknowledged him to be master of her spirit; her bosom's lord; the man -whom she had been born to worship; the human being to whom it was for -her to link her destiny. Frank's acres had been of no account; nor had -his want of acres. God had brought them two together that they should -love each other; that conviction had satisfied her, and she had made it -a duty to herself that she would love him with her very soul. And now -she was called upon to wrench herself asunder from him because she had -nothing to give in return! - -Well, she would wrench herself asunder, as far as such wrenching might -be done compatibly with her solemn promise. It might be right that Frank -should have an opportunity offered him, so that he might escape from his -position without disgrace. She would endeavour to give him this -opportunity. So, with one deep sigh, she arose, took herself pen, ink, -and paper, and sat herself down again so that the wrenching might begin. - -And then, for a moment, she thought of her uncle. Why had he not spoken -to her of all this? Why had he not warned her? He who had ever been so -good to her, why had he now failed her so grievously? She had told him -everything, had had no secret from him; but he had never answered her a -word. 'He also must have known' she said to herself, piteously, 'he also -must have known that I could give nothing in return.' Such accusation, -however, availed her not at all, so she sat down and slowly wrote her -letter. - -'Dearest Frank,' she began. She had first written 'dear Mr Gresham'; -but her heart revolted against such useless coldness. She was not going -to pretend she did not love him. - -'DEAREST FRANK, - -'Your mother has been here talking to me about our engagement. -I do not generally agree with her about such matters; but she -has said some things to-day which I cannot but acknowledge to -be true. She says, that our marriage would be distressing to -your father, injurious to all your family, and ruinous to -yourself. If this be so, how can I, who love you, wish for -such a marriage? - -'I remember my promise, and have kept it. I would not yield -to your mother when she desired me to disclaim our engagement. -But I do think it will be more prudent if you will consent to -forget all that has passed between us--not, perhaps, to forget -it; that may not be possible for us--but to let it pass by as -though it had never been. If so, if you think so, dear Frank, -do not have any scruples on my account. What will be best for -you, must be best for me. Think what a reflection it would -ever be to me, to have been the ruin of one that I love so -well. - -'Let me have but one word to say that I am released from my -promise, and I will tell my uncle that the matter between us -is over. It will be painful for us at first; those occasional -meetings which must take place will distress us, but that will -wear off. We shall always think well of each other, and why -should we not be friends? This, doubtless, cannot be done -without inward wounds; but such wounds are in God's hands, and -He can cure them. - -'I know your first feelings will be on reading this letter; -but do not answer it in obedience to such feelings. Think over -it, think of your father, and all you owe him, of your old -name, your old family, and what the world expects of you.' -(Mary was forced to put her hand to her eyes, to save the -paper from her falling tears, as she found herself thus -repeating, nearly word for word, the arguments that had been -used by Lady Arabella.) 'Think of these things coolly, if you -can, but, at any rate, without passion: and then let me have -one word in answer. One word will suffice. - -'I have but to add this: do not allow yourself to think that -my heart will ever reproach you. It cannot reproach you for -doing that which I myself suggest.' (Mary's logic in this was -very false; but she was not herself aware of it.) 'I will -never reproach you either in word or thought; and as for all -others, it seems to me that the world agrees that we have -hitherto been wrong. The world, I hope, will be satisfied when -we have obeyed it. - -'Go bless you, dearest Frank! I shall never call you so -again; but it would be a pretence were I to write otherwise in -this letter. Think of this, and then let me have one line. - -'Your affectionate friend, -MARY THORNE' - -'PS.--Of course I cannot be at dear Beatrice's marriage; but -when they come back to the parsonage, I shall see her. I am -sure they will both be happy, because they are so good. I need -hardly say that I shall think of them on their wedding day.' - -When she finished the letter, she addressed it plainly, in her own -somewhat bold handwriting, to Francis N. Gresham, Jun., Esq., and then -took it herself to the little village post-office. There should be -nothing underhand about her correspondence: all the Greshamsbury world -should know of it--that world of which she had spoken in her letter--if -that world so pleased. Having put her penny label on it, she handed it, -with an open brow and an unembarrassed face, to the baker's wife, who -was Her Majesty's postmistress at Greshamsbury; and, having so finished -her work, she returned to see the table prepared for her uncle's dinner. -'I will say nothing to him,' she said to herself, 'till I get the -answer. He will not talk to me about it, so why should I trouble him?' - - - -CHAPTER XLIII - -THE RACE OF SCATCHERD BECOMES EXTINCT - -It will not be imagined, at any rate by feminine readers, that Mary's -letter was written off at once, without alterations and changes, or the -necessity for a fair copy. Letters from one young lady to another are -doubtless written in this manner, and even with them it might sometimes -be better if more patience had been taken; but with Mary's first letter -to her lover--her first love-letter, if love-letter it can be -called-much more care was used. It was copied and re-copied, and when -she returned from posting it, it was read and re-read. - -'It is very cold,' she said to herself; 'he will think I have no heart, -that I have never loved him!' And then she all but resolved to run down -to the baker's wife, and get back her letter, that she might alter it. -'But it will be better so,' she said again. 'If I touched his feelings -now, he would never bring himself to leave me. It is right that I should -be cold with him. I should be false to myself if I tried to move his -love--I, who have nothing to give him in return for it.' And so she made -no further visit to the post-office, and the letter went on its way. - -We will now follow its fortunes for a short while, and explain how it -was that Mary received no answer for a week; a week, it may well be -imagined, of terrible suspense to her. When she took it to the -post-office, she doubtless thought that the baker's wife had nothing to -do but to send it up to the house at Greshamsbury, and that Frank would -receive it that evening, or, at latest, early on the following morning. -But this was by no means so. The epistle was posted on a Friday -afternoon, and it behoved the baker's wife to send it into -Silverbridge--Silverbridge being the post-town--so that all due -formalities, as ordered by the Queen's Government, might there be -perfected. Now, unfortunately the post-boy had taken his departure -before Mary reached the shop, and it was not, therefore, dispatched till -Saturday. Sunday was always a dies non with the Greshamsbury Mercury, -and, consequently, Frank's letter was not delivered at the house till -Monday morning; at which time Mary had for two long days been waiting -with weary heart for the expected answer. - -Now Frank had on that morning gone up to London by the early train, with -his future brother-in-law, Mr Oriel. In order to accomplish this, they -had left Greshamsbury for Barchester exactly as the postboy was leaving -Silverbridge for Greshamsbury. - -'I should like to wait for my letters,' Mr Oriel had said, when the -journey was being discussed. - -'Nonsense,' Frank had answered. 'Who ever got a letter that was worth -waiting for?' and so Mary was doomed to a week of misery. - -When the post-bag arrived at the house on Monday morning it was opened -as usual by the squire himself at the breakfast-table. 'Here is a letter -for Frank,' said he, 'posted in the village. You had better send it to -him:' and he threw the letter across to Beatrice. - -'It's from Mary,' said Beatrice, out loud, taking the letter up and -examining the address. And having said so, she repented what she had -done, as she looked first at her father and then at her mother. - -A cloud came over the squire's brow as for a minute he went on turning -over the letters and newspapers. 'Oh, from Mary Thorne, is it?' he said. -'Well, you had better send it to him.' - -'Frank said that if any letters came they were to be kept,' said his -sister Sophy. 'He told me so particularly. I don't think he likes having -letters sent to him.' - -'You had better send that one,' said the squire. - -'Mr Oriel is to have all his letters addressed to Long's Hotel, Bond -Street, and this one can very well be sent with them,' said Beatrice, -who knew all about it, and intended herself to make free use of the -address. - -'Yes, you had better send it,' said the squire; and then nothing further -was said at the table. But Lady Arabella, though she said nothing, had -not failed to mark what had passed. Had she asked for the letter before -the squire, he would probably have taken possession of it himself; but -as soon as she was alone with Beatrice, she did demand it, 'I shall be -writing to Frank himself,' she said, 'and will send it to him.' And so, -Beatrice, with a heavy heart, gave it up. - -The letter lay before Lady Arabella's eyes all that day, and many a -wistful glance was cast at it. She turned it over and over, and much -desired to know its contents; but she did not dare to break the seal of -her son's letter. All that day it lay upon her desk, and all the next, -for she could hardly bring herself to part with it; but on the Wednesday -it was sent--sent with these lines from herself:- - -'Dearest, dearest Frank, I send you a letter which has come by the post -from Mary Thorne. I do not know what it may contain; but before you -correspond with her, pray, pray think of what I said to you. For my -sake, for your father's, for your own, pray think of it.' - -That was all, but it was enough to make her word to Beatrice true. She -did send it to Frank enclosed in a letter from herself. We must reserve -for the next chapter what had taken place between Frank and his mother; -but, for the present, we will return to the doctor's house. - -Mary said not a word to him about the letter; but, keeping silent on the -subject, she felt wretchedly estranged from him. 'Is anything the -matter, Mary?' he said to her on the Sunday afternoon. - -'No, uncle,' she answered, turning away her head to hide her tears. - -'Ah, but there is something; what is it, dearest?' - -'Nothing--that is, nothing that one can talk about.' - -'What Mary! Be unhappy and not to talk about it to me? That's -something new, is it not?' - -'One has presentiments sometimes, and is unhappy without knowing why. -Besides, you know--' - -'I know! What do I know? Do I know anything that will make my pet -happier?' and he took her into his arms and they sat together on the -sofa. Her tears were now falling fast, and she no longer made an effort -to hide them. 'Speak to me, Mary; this is something more than a -presentiment. What is it?' - -'Oh, uncle--' - -'Come, love, speak to me; tell me why you are grieving.' - -'Oh, uncle, why have you not spoken to me? Why have you not told me -what to do? Why have you not advised me? Why are you always so silent?' - -'Silent about what?' - -'You know, uncle; silent about him; silent about Frank.' - -Why, indeed? What was he to say to this? It was true that he had never -counselled her; never shown her what course she should take; had never -even spoke to her about her lover. And it was equally true that he was -not now prepared to do so, even in answer to such an appeal as this. He -had a hope, a strong hope, more than a hope, that Mary's love would yet -be happy; but he could not express or explain his hope; nor could he -even acknowledge to himself a wish that would seem to be based on the -death of him to whose life he was bound, if possible, to preserve. - -'My love,' he said, 'it is a matter in which you must judge for -yourself. Did I doubt your conduct, I should interfere; but I do not.' - -'Conduct! Is conduct everything? One may conduct oneself excellently, -and yet break one's heart.' - -This was too much for the doctor; his sternness and firmness instantly -deserted him. 'Mary,' he said, 'I will do anything that you would have -me. If you wish it, I will make arrangements for leaving this place at -once.' - -'Oh, no,' she said, plaintively. - -'When you tell me of a broken heart, you almost break my own. Come to -me, darling; do not leave me so. I will say all that I can say. I have -thought, do still think, that circumstances will admit of your marriage -with Frank if you both love each other, and can both be patient.' - -'You think so,' said she, unconsciously sliding her hand into his, as -though to thank him by its pressure for the comfort he was giving her. - -'I do think so now more than ever. But I only think so; I have been -unable to assure you. There, darling, I must not say more; only that I -cannot bear to see you grieving, I would not have said this:' and then -he left her, and nothing more was spoken on the subject. - -If you can be patient! Why, a patience of ten years would be as nothing -to her. Could she but live with the knowledge that she was first in his -estimation, dearest in his heart; could it be also granted to her to -feel that she was regarded as his equal, she could be patient for ever. -What more did she want than to know and feel this? Patient, indeed! - -But what could these circumstances be to which her uncle had alluded? 'I -do think that circumstances will admit of your marriage.' Such was his -opinion, and she had never known him to be wrong. Circumstances! What -circumstances? Did he perhaps mean that Mr Gresham's affairs were not so -bad as they had been thought to be? If so, that alone would hardly alter -the matter, for what could she give in return? 'I would give him the -world for one word of love,' she said to herself, 'and never think that -he was my debtor. Ah! how beggarly the heart must be that speculates on -such gifts as those!' - -But there was her uncle's opinion: he still thought that they might be -married. Oh, why had she sent her letter? and why had she made it so -cold? With such a letter as that before him, Frank could not do other -than consent to her proposal. And then, why did he not at least answer -it? - -On the Sunday afternoon there arrived at Greshamsbury a man and a horse -from Boxall Hill, bearing a letter from Lady Scatcherd to Dr Thorne, -earnestly requesting the doctor's immediate attendance. 'I fear -everything is over with poor Louis,' wrote the unhappy mother. 'It has -been dreadful. Do come to me; I have no other friend, and I am nearly -worn through with it. The man from the city'--she meant Dr -Fillgrave--'comes every day, and I dare say he is all very well, but he -has never done much good. He has not had spirit enough to keep the -bottle from him; and it was that, and that only, that most behoved to be -done. I doubt you won't find him in this world when you get here.' - -Dr Thorne started immediately. Even though he might have to meet Dr -Fillgrave, he could not hesitate, for he went not as a doctor to the -dying man, but as the trustee under Sir Roger's will. Moreover, as Lady -Scatcherd had said, he was only her friend, and he could not desert her -at such a moment for an army of Fillgraves. He told Mary he should not -return that night; and taking with him a small saddle-bag, he started at -once for Boxall Hill. - -As he rode to the hall door, Dr Fillgrave was getting into his carriage. -They had never met so as to speak to each other since that memorable -day, when they had their famous passage of arms in the hall of that very -house before which they both now stood. But, at the present moment, -neither of them was disposed to renew the fight. - -'What news of your patient, Fillgrave?' said our doctor, still seated on -his sweating horse, and putting his hand lightly to his hat. - -Dr Fillgrave could not refrain from one moment of supercilious disdain: -he gave one little chuck to his head, one little twist to his neck, one -little squeeze to his lips, and then the man within him overcame the -doctor. 'Sir Louis is no more,' he said. - -'God's will be done!' said Dr Thorne. - -'His death is a release; for his last days have been very frightful. -Your coming, Dr Thorne, will be a comfort to Lady Scatcherd.' And then -Dr Fillgrave, thinking that even the present circumstances required no -further condescension, ensconced himself in the carriage. - -'His last days have been very dreadful! Ah, me, poor fellow! Dr -Fillgrave, before you go, allow me to say this: I am quite aware that -when he fell into your hands, no medical skill in the world could save -him.' - -Dr Fillgrave bowed low from the carriage, and after this unwonted -exchange of courtesies, the two doctors parted, not to meet again--at -any rate, in the pages of this novel. Of Dr Fillgrave, let it now be -said, that he is now regarded as one of the celebrities of Barchester. - -Lady Scatcherd was found sitting alone in her little room on the -ground-floor. Even Hannah was not with her, for Hannah was now occupied -upstairs. When the doctor entered the room, which he did unannounced, he -found her seated on a chair, with her back against one of the presses, -her hands clasped together over her knees, gazing into vacancy. She did -not ever hear him or see him as he approached, and his hand had lightly -touched her shoulder before she knew that she was not alone. Then, she -looked up at him with a face so full of sorrow, so worn with suffering, -that his own heart was racked to see her. - -'It's all over, my friend,' said he. 'It is better so; much better so.' - -She seemed at first hardly to understand him, but still regarding him -with that wan face, shook her head slowly and sadly. One might have -thought that she was twenty years older than when Dr Thorne last saw -her. - -He drew a chair to her side, and sitting by her, took her hand in his. -'It is better so, Lady Scatcherd; better so,' he repeated. 'The poor -lad's doom had been spoken, and it is well for him, and for you, that it -should be over.' - -'They are both gone now,' said she, speaking very low; 'both gone now. -Oh, doctor! To be left alone here, all alone!' - -He said some few words trying to comfort her; but who can comfort a -widow bereaved of her child? Who can console a heart that has lost all -it possessed? Sir Roger had not been to her a tender husband; but still -he had been the husband of her love. Sir Louis had not been to her an -affectionate son; but still he had been her child, her only child. Now -they were both gone. Who can wonder that the world should be a blank to -her? - -Still the doctor spoke soothing words, and still he held her hand. He -knew that his words could not console her; but the sounds of his -kindness at such desolate moments are, to such minds as hers, some -alleviation of grief. She hardly answered him, but sat there staring out -before her, leaving her hand passively to him, and swaying her head -backwards and forwards as though her grief were too heavy to be borne. - -At last, her eye rested upon an article which stood upon the table, and -she started up impetuously from her chair. She did this so suddenly, -that the doctor's hand fell beside him before he knew that she had -risen. The table was covered with all those implements which become so -frequent about a house when severe illness is an inhabitant there. There -were little boxes and apothecaries' bottles, cups and saucers standing -separate, and bowls, in which messes have been prepared with the hope of -suiting a sick man's failing appetite. There was a small saucepan -standing on a plate, a curiously shaped glass utensil left by the -doctor, and sundry pieces of flannel, which had been used in rubbing the -sufferer's limbs. But in the middle of the debris stood one blank -bottle, with head erect, unsuited to the companionship in which it was -found. - -'There,' she said, rising up, and seizing it in a manner that would have -been ridiculous had it not been so truly tragic. 'There, that has robbed -me of everything--of father and son; that has swallowed them -both--murdered them both! Oh, doctor! that such a thing as that should -ever cause such bitter sorrow! I have hated it always, but now--Oh, woe -is me! weary me!' And then she let the bottle drop from her hand as -though it were too heavy for her. - -'This comes of barro-niting,' she continued. 'If they had let him -alone, he would have been here now, and so would the other one. Why did -they do it? why did they do it? Ah, doctor! people such as us should -never meddle with them above us. See what has come of it; see what has -come of it!' - -The doctor could not remain with her long, as it was necessary that he -should take upon himself the direction of the household, and give orders -for the funeral. First of all, he had to undergo the sad duty of seeing -the corpse of the deceased baronet. This, at any rate, may be spared to -my readers. It was found to be necessary that the internment should be -made very quickly, as the body was nearly destroyed by alcohol. Having -done all this, and sent back his horse to Greshamsbury, with directions -that clothes for a journey might be sent to him, and a notice that he -should not be home for some days, he again returned to Lady Scatcherd. - -Of course he could not but think much of the immense property which was -now, for a short time, altogether in his own hands. His resolution was -soon made to go at once to London and consult the best lawyer he could -find--or the best dozen lawyers should such be necessary--as to the -validity of Mary's claims. This must be done before he said a word to -her or to any of the Gresham family; but it must be done instantly, so -that all suspense might be at an end as soon as possible. He must, of -course, remain with Lady Scatcherd till the funeral should be over; but -when that office should be complete, he would start instantly for -London. - -In resolving to tell no one as to Mary's fortune till after he had -fortified himself with legal warranty, he made one exception. He thought -it rational that he should explain to Lady Scatcherd who was now the -heir under her husband's will; and he was more inclined to do so, from -feeling that the news would probably be gratifying to her. With this -view, he had once or twice endeavoured to induce her to talk about the -property, but she had been unwilling to do so. She seemed to dislike all -allusions to it, and it was not until she had incidentally mentioned the -fact that she would have to look for a home, that he was able to fix her -to the subject. This was on the evening before the funeral; on the -afternoon of which day he intended to proceed to London. - -'It may probably be arranged that you may continue to live here,' said -the doctor. - -'I don't wish it at all,' said she, rather sharply. 'I don't wish to -have any arrangements made. I would not be indebted to any of them for -anything. Oh, dear! if money could make it all right, I should have -enough of that.' - -'Indebted to whom, Lady Scatcherd? Who do you think will be the owner -of Boxall Hill?' - -'Indeed, then, Dr Thorne, I don't much care: unless it be yourself, it -won't be any friend of mine, or any one I shall care to make a friend -of. It isn't so easy for an old woman like me to make new friends.' - -'Well, it certainly won't belong to me.' - -'I wish it did, with all my heart. But even then, I would not live -here. I have had too many troubles here to wish to see more.' - -'That shall be as you like, Lady Scatcherd; but you will be surprised to -hear that the place will--at least I think it will--belong to a friend -of yours: to one to whom you have been very kind.' - -'And who is he, doctor? Won't it go to some of those Americans? I am -sure I never did anything kind to them; though, indeed, I did love poor -Mary Scatcherd. But that's years upon years ago, and she is dead, and -gone now. Well, I begrudge nothing to Mary's children. As I have none of -my own, it is right that they should have the money. It has not made me -happy; I hope it may do them.' - -'The property will, I think, go to Mary Scatcherd's eldest child. It is -she whom you have known as Mary Thorne.' - -'Doctor!' And then Lady Scatcherd, as she made the exclamation, put -both her hands down to hold her chair, as though she feared the weight -of her surprise would topple her off her seat. - -'Yes; Mary Thorne--my Mary--to whom you have been so good, who loves you -so well; she, I believe, will be Sir Roger's heiress. And it was so that -Sir Roger intended on his deathbed, in the event of poor Louis's life -being cut short. If this be so, will you be ashamed to stay here as the -guest of Mary Thorne? She has not been ashamed to be your guest.' - -But Lady Scatcherd was now too much interested in the general tenor of -the news which she had heard to care much about the house which she was -to inhabit in future. Mary Thorne, the heiress of Boxall Hill! Mary -Thorne, the still living child of that poor creature who had so nearly -died when they were all afflicted with their early grief! Well; there -was consolation, there was comfort in this. There were but three people -left in the world that she could love: her foster-child, Frank -Gresham--Mary Thorne, and the doctor. If the money went to Mary, it -would of course go to Frank, for she now knew that they loved each -other; and if it went to them, would not the doctor have his share also; -such share as he might want? Could she have governed the matter, she -would have given all to Frank; and now it would be as well bestowed. - -Yes; there was consolation in this. They both sat up more than half the -night talking over it, and giving and receiving explanations. If only -the council of lawyers would not be adverse! That was now the point of -suspense. - -The doctor, before he left her, bade her hold her peace, and say nothing -of Mary's fortune to any one till her rights have been absolutely -acknowledged. 'It will be nothing not to have it,' said the doctor; 'but -it would be very bad to hear it was hers, and then to lose it.' - -On the next morning, Dr Thorne deposited the remains of Sir Louis in the -vault prepared for the family in the parish church. He laid the son -where a few months ago he had laid the father,--and so the title of -Scatcherd became extinct. Their race of honour had not been long. - -After the funeral, the doctor hurried up to London, and there we will -leave him. - - - -CHAPTER XLIV - -SATURDAY EVENING AND SUNDAY MORNING - -We must now go back a little and describe how Frank had been sent off on -special business to London. The household at Greshamsbury was at this -time in but a doleful state. It seemed to be pervaded, from the squire -down to the scullery-maid, with a feeling that things were not going -well; and men and women, in spite of Beatrice's coming marriage, were -grim-visaged, and dolorous. Mr Mortimer Gazebee, rejected though he had -been, still, went and came, talking much to the squire, much also to her -ladyship, as to the ill-doings which were in the course of projection by -Sir Louis; and Frank went about the house with clouded brow, as though -finally resolved to neglect his one great duty. - -Poor Beatrice was robbed of half her joy; over and over again her -brother asked her whether she had yet seen Mary, and she was obliged as -often to answer that she had not. Indeed, she did not dare to visit her -friend, for it was hardly possible that they should sympathize with each -other. Mary was, to say the least, stubborn in her pride; and Beatrice, -though she could forgive her friend for loving her brother, could not -forgive the obstinacy with which Mary persisted in a course which, as -Beatrice thought, she herself knew to be wrong. - -And then Mr Gazebee came down from town, with an intimation that it -behoved the squire himself to go up that he might see certain learned -pundits, and be badgered in his own person at various dingy, dismal -chambers in Lincoln's Inn Fields, the Temple, and Gray's Inn Lane. It -was an invitation exactly of that sort which a good many years ago was -given to a certain duck. - -'Will you, will you--will you, will you--come and be killed?' Although -Mr Gazebee urged the matter with such eloquence, the squire remained -steady to his objection, and swam obstinately about his Greshamsbury -pond in any direction save that which seemed to lead towards London. - -This occurred on the very evening of that Friday which had witnessed the -Lady Arabella's last visit to Dr Thorne's house. The question of the -squire's necessary journey to the great fountains of justice was, of -course, discussed between Lady Arabella and Mr Gazebee; and it occurred -to the former, full as she was of Frank's iniquity and of Mary's -obstinacy, that if Frank were sent up in lieu of his father, it would -separate them at least for a while. If she could only get Frank away -without seeing his love, she might yet so work upon him, by means of the -message which Mary had sent, as to postpone, if not break off, this -hateful match. It was inconceivable that a youth of twenty-three, and -such a youth as Frank, should be obstinately constant to a girl -possessed of no great beauty--so argued Lady Arabella to herself--and -who had neither wealth, birth, nor fashion to recommend her. - -And this it was at last settled--the squire being a willing partner to -the agreement--that Frank should go up and be badgered in lieu of his -father. At his age it was possible to make a thing desirable, if not -necessary--on account of the importance conveyed--to sit day after day -in the chambers of Messrs Slow & Bideawhile, and hear musty law talk, -and finger dusty law parchments. The squire had made many visits to -Messrs Slow & Bideawhile, and he knew better. Frank had not hitherto -been there on his own bottom, and thus he fell easily into the trap. - -Mr Oriel was also going to London, and this was another reason for -sending Frank. Mr Oriel had business of great importance, which it was -quite necessary that he should execute before his marriage. How much of -this business consisted in going to his tailor, buying a wedding-ring, -and purchasing some other more costly present for Beatrice, we need not -here inquire. But Mr Oriel was quite on Lady Arabella's side with -reference to this mad engagement, and as Frank and he were now fast -friends, some good might be done in that way. 'If we all caution him -against it, he can hardly withstand us all!' said Lady Arabella to -herself. - -The matter was broached to Frank on the Saturday evening, and settled -between them all on the same night. Nothing, of course, was at that -moment said about Mary; but Lady Arabella was too full of the subject to -let him go to London without telling him that Mary was ready to recede -if only he would allow her to do so. About eleven o'clock, Frank was -sitting in his own room, coming over the difficulties of the -situation--thinking of his father's troubles, his own position--when he -was roused from his reverie by a slight tap at the door. - -'Come in,' he said somewhat loudly. He thought it was one of his -sisters, who were apt to visit him at all hours and for all manner of -reasons; and he, though he was usually gentle to them, was not at -present exactly in a humour to be disturbed. - -The door gently opened, and he saw his mother standing hesitating in the -passage. - -'Can I come in, Frank?' said she. - -'Oh, yes, mother; by all means:' and then, with some surprise marked in -his countenance, he prepared a seat for her. Such a visit as this from -Lady Arabella was very unusual; so much so, that he had probably not -seen her in his own room since the day when he first left school. He had -nothing, however, to be ashamed of; nothing to conceal unless it were an -open letter from Miss Dunstable which he had in his hand when she -entered, and which he somewhat hurriedly thrust into his pocket. - -'I wanted to say a few words to you, Frank, before you start for London -about this business.' Frank signified by a gesture, that he was quite -ready to listen to her. - -'I am so glad to see your father putting the matter into your hands. You -are younger than he is; and then--I don't know why, but somehow your -father has never been a good man of business--everything has gone wrong -with him.' - -'Oh, mother! do not say anything against him.' - -'No, Frank, I will not; I do not wish it. Things have been unfortunate, -certainly. Ah me! I little thought when I married--but I don't mean to -complain--I have excellent children, and I ought to be thankful for -that.' - -Frank began to fear that no good would be coming when his mother spoke -in that strain. 'I will do the best I can,' said he, 'up in town. I -can't help thinking myself that Mr Gazebee might have done as well, -but--' - -'Oh, dear no; by no means. In such cases the principal must show -himself. Besides, it is right you should know how matters stand. Who is -so much interested in it as you are? Poor Frank! I do so often feel for -you when I think how the property has dwindled.' - -'Pray do not mind me, mother. Why should you talk of it as my matter -while my father is not yet forty-five? His life, so to speak, is as good -as mine. I can do very well without it; all I want is to be allowed to -settle to something.' - -'You mean a profession.' - -'Yes; something of that sort.' - -'They are all so slow, dear Frank. You, who speak French so well--I -should think my brother might get you in as an attache to some embassy.' - -'That wouldn't suit me at all,' said Frank. - -'Well, we'll talk about that some other time. But I came about -something else, and I do hope you will hear me.' - -Frank's brow again grew black, for he knew that his mother was about to -say something which it would be disagreeable for him to hear. - -'I was with Mary, yesterday.' - -'Well, mother?' - -'Don't be angry with me, Frank; you can't but know that the fate of an -only son must be a subject of anxiety to a mother.' Ah! how singularly -altered was Lady Arabella's tone since first she had taken upon herself -to discuss the marriage prospects of her son! Then how autocratic had -she been as she went him away, bidding him, with full command, to throw -himself into the golden embraces of Miss Dunstable! But now, how humble, -as she came suppliantly to his room, craving that she might have leave -to whisper into his ear a mother's anxious fears! Frank had laughed at -her stern behests, though he had half obeyed them; but he was touched to -the heart by her humility. - -He drew his chair nearer to her, and took her by the hand. But she, -disengaging hers, parted the hair from off his forehead, and kissed his -brow. 'Oh, Frank,' she said, 'I have been so proud of you, am still so -proud of you. It will send me to my grave if I see you sink below your -proper position. Not that it will be your fault. I am sure it will not -be your fault. Only circumstanced as you are, you should be doubly, -trebly, careful. If your father had not--' - -'Do not speak against my father.' - -'No, Frank; I will not--no, I will not; not another word. And now, -Frank--' - -Before we go on we must say one word further as to Lady Arabella's -character. It will probably be said that she was a consummate hypocrite; -but at the present moment she was not hypocritical. She did love her -son; was anxious--very, very anxious for him; was proud of him, and -almost admired the obstinacy which so vexed her inmost soul. No grief -would be to her so great as that of seeing him sink below what she -conceived to be his position. She was as genuinely motherly, in wishing -that he should marry money, as another woman might be in wishing to see -her son a bishop; or as the Spartan matron, who preferred that her -offspring should return on his shield, to hearing that he had come back -whole in limb but tainted in honour. When Frank spoke of a profession, -she instantly thought of what Lord de Courcy might do for him. If he -would not marry money, he might, at any rate, be attache at an embassy. -A profession--hard work, as a doctor, or as an engineer--would, -according to her ideas, degrade him; cause him to sink below his proper -position; but to dangle at a foreign court, to make small talk at -evening parties of a lady ambassadress, and occasionally, perhaps, to -write demi-official notes containing demi-official tittle-tattle; this -would be in proper accordance with the high honour of a Gresham of -Greshamsbury. - -We may not admire the direction taken by Lady Arabella's energy on -behalf of her son, but that energy was not hypocritical. - -'And now, Frank--' She looked wistfully into his face as she addressed -him, as though half afraid to go on, and begging that he would receive -with complaisance whatever she found herself forced to say. - -'Well, mother?' - -'I was with Mary yesterday.' - -'Yes, yes; what then? I know what your feelings are with regard to -her.' - -'No, Frank; you wrong me. I have no feelings against her--none, indeed; -none but this: that she is not fit to be your wife.' - -'I think her fit.' - -'Ah, yes; but how fit? Think of your position, Frank, and what means -you have of keeping her. Think of what you are. Your father's only son; -the heir to Greshamsbury. If Greshamsbury be ever again more than a -name, it is you that must redeem it. Of all men living you are the least -able to marry a girl like Mary Thorne.' - -'Mother, I will not sell myself for what you call my position.' - -'Who asks you? I do not ask you; nobody asks you. I do not want you to -marry any one. I did think once--but let that pass. You are now -twenty-three. In ten years' time you will still be a young man. I only -ask you to wait. If you marry now, that is, marry such a girl as Mary -Thorne--' - -'Such a girl! Where shall I find another?' - -'I mean as regards money, Frank; you know I mean that; how are you to -live? Where are you to go? And then, her birth. Oh, Frank, Frank!' - -'Birth! I hate such pretence. What was--but I won't talk about it. -Mother, I tell you my word is pledged, and on no account will I be -induced to break it.' - -'Ah, that's just it; that's just the point. Now, Frank, listen to me. -Pray listen to me patiently for one minute.' - -Frank promised that he would listen patiently; but he looked anything -but patient as he said so. - -'I have seen Mary, as it was certainly my duty to do. You cannot be -angry with me for that.' - -'Who said that I was angry, mother?' - -'Well, I have seen her, and I must own, that though she was not disposed -to be courteous to me, personally, she said much that marked her -excellent good sense. But the gist of it was this; that as she had made -you a promise, nothing should turn her from that promise but your -permission.' - -'And do you think--' - -'Wait a moment, Frank, and listen to me. She confessed that this -marriage was one which would necessarily bring distress on all your -family; that it was one which would probably be ruinous to yourself; -that it was a match which could not be approved of: she did, indeed; she -confessed all that. "I have nothing", she said--those were her own -words--"I have nothing to say in favour of this engagement, except that -he wishes it." That is what she thinks of it herself. "His wishes are -not a reason; but a law," she said--' - -'And, mother, would you have me desert such a girl as that?' - -'It is not deserting, Frank: it would not be deserting: you would be -doing that which she herself approves of. She feels the impropriety of -going on; but she cannot draw back because of her promise to you. She -thinks that she cannot do it, even though she wishes it.' - -'Wishes it! Oh, mother!' - -'I do believe she does, because she has sense to feel the truth of all -that your friends say. Oh, Frank, I will go on my knees to you if you -will listen to me.' - -'Oh, mother! mother! mother!' - -'You should think twice, Frank, before you refuse the only request your -mother ever made you. And why do I ask you? why do I come to you thus? -Is it for my own sake? Oh, my boy! my darling boy! will you lose -everything in life, because you love the child with whom you played with -as a child?' - -'Whose fault is it that we were together as children? She is now more -than a child. I look on her already as my wife.' - -'But she is not your wife, Frank; and she knows that she ought not to -be. It is only because you hold her to it that she consents to it.' - -'Do you mean to say that she does not love me?' - -Lady Arabella would probably have said this, also, had she dared; but -she felt that in doing so, she would be going too far. It was useless -for her to say anything that would be utterly contradicted by an appeal -to Mary herself. - -'No, Frank; I do not mean to say that you do not love her. What I do -mean is this: that it is not becoming in you to give up everything--not -only yourself, but all your family--for such a love as this; and that -she, Mary herself acknowledges this. Every one is of the same opinion. -Ask your father: I need not say that he would agree with you about -everything he could. I will not say the De Courcys.' - -'Oh, the De Courcys!' - -'Yes, they are my relations, I know that.' Lady Arabella could not quite -drop the tone of bitterness which was natural to her in saying this. -'But ask your sisters; ask Mr Oriel, whom you esteem so much; ask your -friend Harry Baker.' - -Frank sat silent for a moment or two while his mother, with a look -almost of agony, gazed into his face. 'I will ask no one,' at last he -said. - -'Oh, my boy! my boy!' - -'No one but myself can know my heart.' - -'And you will sacrifice all to such a love as that, all; her, also, whom -you say that you so love? What happiness can you give her as your wife? -Oh, Frank! is that the only answer you will make to your mother on her -knees? - -'Oh, mother! mother!' - -'No, Frank, I will not let you ruin yourself; I will not let you destroy -yourself. Promise this, at least, that you will think of what I have -said.' - -'Think of it! I do think of it.' - -'Ah, but think of it in earnest. You will be absent now in London; you -will have the business of the estate to manage; you will have heavy -cares upon your hands. Think of it as a man, and not as a boy.' - -'I will see her to-morrow before I go.' - -'No, Frank, no; grant me that trifle, at any rate. Think upon this -without seeing her. Do not proclaim yourself so weak that you cannot -trust yourself to think over what your mother says to you without asking -her leave. Though you be in love, do not be childish with it. What I -have told you as coming from her is true, word for word; if it were not, -you would soon learn so. Think now of what I have said, and of what she -says, and when you come back from London, then you can decide.' - -To so much Frank consented after some further parley; namely, that he -would proceed to London on the following Monday morning without again -seeing Mary. And in the meantime, she was waiting with sore heart for -his answer to that letter that was lying, and was still to lie for so -many hours, in the safe protection of Silverbridge postmistress. - -It may seem strange; but, in truth, his mother's eloquence had more -effect on Frank than that of his father: and yet, with his father he had -always sympathized. But his mother had been energetic; whereas, his -father, if not lukewarm, had, at any rate, been timid. 'I will ask no -one,' Frank had said in the strong determination of his heart; and yet -the words were hardly out of his mouth before he bethought himself that -he would talk the thing over with Harry Baker. 'Not,' said he to -himself, 'that I have any doubt: I have no doubt; but I hate to have all -the world against me. My mother wishes me to ask Harry Baker. Harry is a -good fellow, and I will ask him.' And with this resolve he betook -himself to bed. - -The following day was Sunday. After breakfast Frank went with the -family to church, as was usual; and there, as usual, he saw Mary in Dr -Thorne's pew. She, as she looked at him, could not but wonder why he had -not answered the letter which was still at Silverbridge; and he -endeavoured to read into her face whether it was true, as his mother -told him, that she was quite ready to give him up. The prayers of both -of them were disturbed, as is so often the case with the prayers of -other anxious people. - -There was a separate door opening from the Greshamsbury pew out into the -Greshamsbury grounds, so that the family were not forced into unseemly -community with the village multitude in going to and from their prayers; -for the front door of the church led out into a road which had no -connexion with the private path. It was not unusual with Frank and his -father to go round, after the service, to the chief entrance, so that -they might speak to their neighbours, and get rid of some of the -exclusiveness which was intended for them. On this morning the squire -did so; but Frank walked home with his mother and sisters, so that Mary -saw no more of him. - -I have said that he walked home with his mother and sisters; but he -rather followed in their path. He was not inclined to talk much, at -least, not to them; and he continued asking himself the -question--whether it could be possible that he was wrong in remaining -true to his promise? Could it be that he owed more to his father and his -mother, and what they chose to call his position, than he did to Mary? - -After church, Mr Gazebee tried to get hold of him, for there was still -much to be said, and many hints to be given, as to how Frank should -speak, and, more especially, as to how to hold his tongue among the -learned pundits in and about Chancery Lane. 'You must be very wide awake -with Messrs Slow and Bideawhile,' said Mr Gazebee. But Frank would not -hearken to him just at that moment. He was going to ride over to Harry -Baker, so he put Mr Gazebee off till the half-hour before dinner,--or -else the half-hour after tea. - -On the previous day he had received a letter from Miss Dunstable, which -he had hitherto read but once. His mother had interrupted him as he was -about to refer to it; and now, as his father's nag was being saddled--he -was still prudent in saving the black horse--he again took it out. - -Miss Dunstable had written in excellent humour. She was in great -distress about the oil of Lebanon, she said. 'I have been trying to get -a purchaser for the last two years; but my lawyer won't let me sell it, -because the would-be purchasers offer a thousand pounds or so less than -the value. I would give ten to get rid of the bore; but I am as little -able to act myself as Sancho was in his government. The oil of Lebanon! -Did you hear anything of it when you were in those parts? I thought of -changing the name to "London particular"; but my lawyers says the -brewers would bring an action against me.' - -'I was going down to your neighbourhood--to your friend the duke's, at -least. But I am prevented by my poor doctor, who is so weak that I must -take him to Malvern. It is a great bore; but I have the satisfaction -that I do my duty by him! - -'Your cousin George is to be married at last. So I hear, at least. He -loves wisely, if not well; for his widow has the name of being prudent -and fairly well to do in the world. She has got over the caprices of her -youth. Dear Aunt De Courcy will be so delighted. I might perhaps have -met her at Gatherum Castle. I do so regret it. - -'Mr Moffat has turned up again. We all thought you had finally -extinguished him. He left a card the other day, and I have told the -servant always to say that I am at home, and that you are with me. He is -going to stand for some borough in the west of Ireland. He's used to -shillelaghs by this time. - -'By the by, I have a cadeau for a friend of yours. I won't tell you -what it is, nor permit you to communicate the fact. But when you tell me -that in sending it I may fairly congratulate her on having so devoted a -slave as you, it shall be sent. - -'If you have nothing better to do at present, do come and see my invalid -at Malvern. Perhaps you might have a mind to treat for the oil of -Lebanon. I'll give you all the assistance I can in cheating my lawyers.' - -There was not much about Mary in this; but still, the little that was -said made him again declare that neither father nor mother should move -him from his resolution. 'I will write to her and say that she may send -her present when she pleases. Or I will run down to Malvern for a day. -It will do me good to see her.' And so he resolved, he rode away to Mill -Hill, thinking, as he went, how he would put the matter to Harry Baker. - -Harry was at home; but we need not describe the whole interview. Had -Frank been asked beforehand, he would have declared, that on no possible -subject could he have had the slightest hesitation in asking Harry any -question, or communicating to him any tidings. But when the time came, -he found that he did hesitate much. He did not want to ask his friend if -he should be wise to marry Mary Thorne. Wise or not, he was determined -to do that. But he wished to be quite sure that his mother was wrong in -saying that all the world would dissuade him from it. Miss Dunstable, at -any rate, did not do so. - -At last, seated on a stile at the back of the Mill Hill stables, while -Harry stood close before him with both his hands in his pockets, he did -get his story told. It was by no means the first time that Harry Baker -had heard about Mary Thorne, and he was not, therefore, so surprised as -he might have been, had the affair been new to him. And thus, standing -there in the position we have described, did Mr Baker, junior, give -utterance to such wisdom as was in him on this subject. - -'You see, Frank, there are two sides to every question; and, as I take -it, fellows are so apt to go wrong because they are so fond of one side, -they won't look at the other. There's no doubt about it, Lady Arabella -is a very clever woman, and knows what's what; and there's no doubt -about this either, that you have a very ticklish hand of cards to play.' - -'I'll play it straightforward; and that's my game' said Frank. - -'Well and good, my dear fellow. That's the best game always. But what -is straightforward? Between you and me, I fear there's no doubt that -your father's property has got into a deuce of a mess.' - -'I don't see that that has anything to do with it.' - -'Yes, but it has. If the estate was all right, and your father could -give you a thousand a year to live on without feeling it, and if your -eldest child would be cock-sure of Greshamsbury, it might be very well -that you should please yourself as to marrying at once. But that's not -the case; and yet Greshamsbury is too good a card to be flung away.' - -'I could fling it away to-morrow,' said Frank. - -'Ah! you think so,' said Harry the Wise. 'But if you were to hear -to-morrow that Sir Louis Scatcherd were master of the whole place, and -be d--d to him, you would feel very uncomfortable.' Had Harry known how -near Sir Louis was to his last struggle, he would not have spoken of him -in this manner. 'That's all very fine talk, but it won't bear wear and -tear. You do care for Greshamsbury if you are the fellow I take you to -be: care for it very much; and you care too much for your father being -Gresham of Greshamsbury.' - -'This won't affect my father at all.' - -'Ah, but it will affect him very much. If you were to marry Miss Thorne -to-morrow, there would at once be an end to any hope to save your -property.' - -'And do you mean to say I'm to be a liar to her for such reasons as -that? Why, Harry, I should be as bad as Moffat. Only it would be ten -times more cowardly, as she has no brother.' - -'I must differ from you there altogether; but mind, I don't mean to say -anything. Tell me that you have made up your mind to marry her, and I'll -stick to you through thick and thin. But if you ask my advice, why, I -must give it. It is quite a different affair to that of Moffat's. He had -lots of tin, everything he could want, and there could be no reason why -he should not marry,--except that he was a snob, of whom your sister was -well quit. But this is very different. If I, as your friend, were to put -it to Miss Thorne, what do you think she would say herself?' - -'She would say whatever was best for me.' - -'Exactly: because she is a trump. And I say the same. There can be no -doubt about it, Frank, my boy: such a marriage would be very foolish for -you both; very foolish. Nobody can admire Miss Thorne more than I do; -but you oughtn't to be a marrying man for the next ten years, unless you -get a fortune. If you tell her the truth, and if she's the girl I take -her to be, she'll not accuse you of being false. She'll peak for a -while; and so will you, old chap. But others have had to do that before -you. They have got over it and so will you.' - -Such was the spoken wisdom of Harry Baker, and who can say that he was -wrong? Frank sat a while on his rustle seat, paring his nails with his -penknife, and then looking up, he thus thanked his friend:- - -'I'm sure you mean well, Harry; and I'm much obliged to you. I dare say -you're right too. But, somehow, it doesn't come home to me. And what is -more, after what has passed, I could not tell her that I wish to part -from her. I could not do it. And besides, I have that sort of feeling, -that if I heard she was to marry any one else, I am sure I would blow -his brains out. Either his or my own.' - -'Well, Frank, you may count on me for anything, except the last -proposition:' and so they shook hands, and Frank rode back to -Greshamsbury. - - - -CHAPTER XLV - -LAW BUSINESS IN LONDON - -On the Monday morning at six o'clock, Mr Oriel and Frank started -together; but early as it was, Beatrice was up to give them a cup of -coffee, Mr Oriel having slept that night in the house. Whether Frank -would have received the coffee from his sister's fair hands had not Mr -Oriel been there, may be doubted. He, however, loudly asserted that he -should not have done so, when she laid claim to great merit for rising -on his behalf. - -Mr Oriel had been specially instigated by Lady Arabella to use the -opportunity of their joint journey, for pointing out to Frank the -iniquity as well as madness of the course he was pursuing; and he had -promised to obey her ladyship's request. But Mr Oriel was perhaps not an -enterprising man, and was certainly not a presumptuous one. He did -intend to do as he was bid; but when he began, with the object of -leading up to the subject of Frank's engagement, he always softened down -into some much easier enthusiasm in the matter of his own engagement -with Beatrice. He had not that perspicuous, but not over-sensitive -strength of mind which had enabled Harry Baker to express his opinion -out at once; and boldly as he did it, yet to do so without offence. - -Four times before the train arrived in London, he made some little -attempt; but four times he failed. As the subject was matrimony, it was -his easiest course to begin about himself; but never could he get any -further. - -'No man was ever more fortunate in a wife than I shall be,' he said, -with a soft, euphuistic self-complacency, which would have been silly -had it been adopted to any other person than the bride's brother. His -intention, however, was very good, for he meant to show, that in his -case marriage was prudent and wise, because his case differed so widely -from that of Frank. - -'Yes,' said Frank. 'She is an excellent good girl:' he had said it -three times before, and was not very energetic. - -'Yes, and so exactly suited to me; indeed, all that I could have dreamed -of. How very well she looked this morning! Some girls only look well at -night. I should not like that at all.' - -'You mustn't expect her to look like that always at six o'clock a.m.,' -said Frank, laughing. 'Young ladies only take that trouble on very -particular occasions. She wouldn't have come down like that if my father -or I had been going alone. No, and she won't do that for you in a couple -of years' time.' - -'Oh, but she's always nice. I have seen her at home as much almost as -you could do; and then she's so sincerely religious.' - -'Oh, yes, of course; that is, I am sure she is,' said Frank, looking -solemn as became him. - -'She's made to be a clergyman's wife.' - -'Well, so it seems,'said Frank. - -'A married life, I'm sure, the happiest in the world--if people are only -in a position to marry,' said Mr Oriel, gradually drawing near to the -accomplishment of his design. - -'Yes; quite so. Do you know, Oriel, I never was so sleepy in my life. -What with all that fuss of Gazebee's, and one thing and another, I could -not get to bed till one o'clock; and then I couldn't sleep. I'll take a -snooze now, if you won't think it uncivil.' And then, putting his feet -on the opposite seat, he settled himself comfortably to his rest. And so -Mr Oriel's last attempt for lecturing Frank in the railway-carriage -faded away and was annihilated. - -By twelve o'clock Frank was with Messrs Slow & Bideawhile. Mr -Bideawhile was engaged at the moment, but he found the managing Chancery -clerk to be a very chatty gentleman. Judging from what he saw, he would -have said that the work to be done at Messrs Slow & Bideawhile's was not -very heavy. - -'A singular man that Sir Louis,' said the Chancery clerk. - -'Yes; very singular,' said Frank. - -'Excellent security; no better; and yet he will foreclose; but you see -he has no power himself. But the question is, can the trustee refuse? -Then, again, trustees are so circumscribed nowadays that they are afraid -to do anything. There has been so much said lately, Mr Gresham, that a -man doesn't know where he is, or what he is doing. Nobody trusts -anybody. There have been such terrible things that we can't wonder at -it. Only think of the case of those Hills! How can any one expect that -any one else will ever trust a lawyer again after that? But that's Mr -Bideawhile's bell. How can one expect it? He will see you now, I dare -say, Mr Gresham.' - -So it turned out, and Frank was ushered into the presence of Mr -Bideawhile. He had got his lesson by heart, and was going to rush into -the middle of his subject; such a course, however, was not in accordance -with Mr Bideawhile's usual practice. Mr Bideawhile got up from his large -wooden-seated Windsor chair, and, with a soft smile, in which, however, -was mingled some slight dash of the attorney's acuteness, put out his -hand to his young client; not, indeed, as though he were going to shake -hands with him, but as though the hand were some ripe fruit all but -falling, which his visitor might take and pluck if he thought proper. -Frank took hold of the hand, which returned no pressure, and then let it -go again, not making any attempt to gather the fruit. - -'I have come up to town, Mr Bideawhile, about this mortgage.' - -'Mortgage--ah, sit down, Mr Gresham; sit down. I hope your father is -quite well?' - -'Quite well, thank you.' - -'I have a great regard for your father. So I had for your grandfather; -a very good man indeed. You, perhaps, don't remember him, Mr Gresham?' - -'He died when I was only a year old.' - -'Oh, yes; no, you of course, can't remember him; but I do well: he used -to be very fond of some port wine I had. I think it was "11"; and if I -don't mistake, I have a bottle or two of it yet; but it is not worth -drinking now. Port wine, you know, won't keep beyond a certain time. -That was very good wine. I don't exactly remember what it stood me a -dozen then; but such wine can't be had now. As for the Madeira, you know -there's an end of that. Do you drink Madeira, Mr Gresham?' - -'No,' said Frank, 'not very often.' - -'I'm sorry for that, for it's a fine wine; but then there's none of it -left, you know. I have a few dozen, I'm told they're growing pumpkins -where the vineyards were. I wonder what they do with all the pumpkins -they grow in Switzerland! You've been to Switzerland, Mr Gresham?' - -Frank said he had ben in Switzerland. - -'It's a beautiful country; my girls made me go there last year. They -said it would do me good; but then you know, they wanted to see it -themselves; ha! ha! ha! However, I believe I shall go again this autumn. -That is to Aix, or some of those places; just for three weeks. I can't -spare any more time, Mr Gresham. Do you like that dining at the tables -d'hote?' - -'Pretty well, sometimes.' - -'One would get tired of it--eh! But they gave us capital dinners at -Zurich. I don't think much of their soup. But they had fish, and about -seven kinds of meats and poultry, and three or four puddings, and things -of that sort. Upon my word, I thought we did very well, and so did my -girls, too. You see a great many ladies travelling now.' - -'Yes,' said Frank; 'a great many.' - -'Upon my word, I think they are right; that is, if they can afford time. -I can't afford time. I'm here every day till five, Mr Gresham; then I go -out and dine in Fleet Street, and then back to work till nine.' - -'Dear me! that's very hard.' - -'Well, yes it is hard work. My boys don't like it; but I manage -somehow. I get down to my little place in the country on Saturday. I -shall be most happy to see you there next Saturday.' - -Frank, thinking it would be outrageous on his part to take up much of -the time of the gentleman who was constrained to work so unreasonably -hard, began again to talk about his mortgages, and, in so doing, had to -mention the name of Mr Yates Umblelby. - -'Ah, poor Umblelby!' said Mr Bideawhile; 'what is he doing now? I am -quite sure your father was right, or he wouldn't have done it; but I -used to think that Umbleby was a decent sort of man enough. Not so -grand, you know, as your Gazebees and Gumptions--eh, Mr Gresham? They do -say young Gazebee is thinking of getting into Parliament. Let me see: -Umbleby married--who was it he married? That was the way your father got -hold of him; not your father, but your grandfather. I used to know all -about it. Well, I was sorry for Umbleby. He has got something, I -suppose--eh?' - -Frank said that he believed Mr Yates Umbleby had something wherewith to -keep the wolf from the door. - -'So you have got Gazebee down there now? Gumption, Gazebee & Gazebee: -very good people, I'm sure; only, perhaps, they have a little too much -on hand to do your father justice.' - -'But about Sir Louis Scatcherd, Mr Bideawhile.' - -'Well, about Sir Louis; a very bad sort of fellow, isn't he? Drinks--eh? -I knew his father a little. He was a rough diamond, too. I was once down -in Northamptonshire, about some railway business; let me see; I almost -forget whether I was with him, or against him. But I know he made sixty -thousand pounds by one hour's work; sixty thousand pounds! And then he -got so mad with drinking that we all thought--' - -And so Mr Bideawhile went on for two hours, and Frank found no -opportunity of saying one word about the business which had brought him -up to town. What wonder that such a man as this should be obliged to -stay at his office every night till nine o'clock? - -During these two hours, a clerk had come in three or four times, -whispering something to the lawyer, who, on the last of such occasions, -turned to Frank, saying, 'Well, perhaps that will do for to-day. If -you'll manage to call to-morrow, say about two, I will have the whole -thing looked up; or, perhaps Wednesday or Thursday would suit you -better.' Frank, declaring that the morrow would suit him very well, took -his departure, wondering much at the manner in which business was done -at the house of Messrs Slow and Bideawhile. - -When he called the next day, the office seemed to be rather disturbed, -and he was shown quickly into Mr Bideawhile's room. 'Have you heard -this?' said that gentleman, putting a telegram into his hands. It -contained tidings of the death of Sir Louis Scatcherd. Frank immediately -knew that these tidings must be of importance to his father; but he had -no idea how vitally they concerned his own more immediate interests. - -'Dr Thorne will be up in town on Thursday evening after the funeral,' -said the talkative clerk. 'And nothing of course can be done till he -comes,' said Mr Bideawhile. And so Frank, pondering on the mutability of -human affairs, again took his departure. - -He could do nothing now but wait for Dr Thorne's arrival, and so he -amused himself in the interval by running down to Malvern, and treating -with Miss Dunstable in person for the oil of Lebanon. He went down on -the Wednesday, and thus, failed to receive, on the Thursday morning, -Mary's letter, which reached London on that day. He returned, however, -on the Friday, and then got it; and perhaps it was well for Mary's -happiness that he had seen Miss Dunstable in the interval. 'I don't care -what your mother says,' said she, with emphasis. 'I don't care for any -Harry, whether it be Harry Baker or old Harry himself. You made her a -promise, and you are bound to keep it; if not on one day, then on -another. What! because you cannot draw back yourself, get out of it by -inducing her to do so! Aunt de Courcy herself could not improve upon -that.' Fortified in this manner, he returned to town on the Friday -morning, and then got Mary's letter. Frank also got a note from Dr -Thorne, stating that he had taken up his temporary domicile at the -Gray's Inn Coffee-house, so as to be near the lawyers. - -It has been suggested that the modern English writers of fiction should -among them keep a barrister, in order that they may be set right on such -legal points as will arise in their little narratives, and thus avoid -the exposure of their own ignorance of the laws, which, now, alas! they -too often make. The idea as worthy of consideration, and I can only say, -that if such an arrangement can be made, and if a counsellor adequately -skilful can be found to accept the office, I shall be happy to subscribe -my quota; it would be but a modest tribute towards the cost. - -But as the suggestion has not yet been carried out, and as there is at -present no learned gentleman whose duty would induce him to set me -right, I can only plead for mercy if I be wrong allotting all Sir -Roger's vast possessions in perpetuity to Miss Thorne, alleging also, in -excuse, that the course of my narrative absolutely demands that she -shall be ultimately recognized as Sir Roger's undoubted heiress. - -Such, after a not immoderate delay, was the opinion expressed to Dr -Thorne by his law advisers; and such, in fact, turned out to be the -case. I will leave the matter so, hoping that my very absence of defence -may serve to protect me from severe attack. If under such a will as that -described as having been made by Sir Roger, Mary would not have been the -heiress, that will must have been described wrongly. - -But it was not quite at once that those tidings made themselves -absolutely certain to Dr Thorne's mind; nor was he able to express any -such opinion when he first met Frank in London. At that time Mary's -letter was in Frank's pocket; and Frank, though his real business -appertained much more to the fact of Sir Louis's death, and the effect -that would immediately have on his father's affairs, was much more full -of what so much more nearly concerned himself. 'I will show it Dr Thorne -himself,' said he, 'and ask him what he thinks.' - -Dr Thorne was stretched fast asleep on the comfortless horse-hair sofa -in the dingy sitting-room at the Gray's Inn Coffee-house when Frank -found him. The funeral, and his journey to London, and the lawyers had -together conquered his energies, and he lay and snored, with nose -upright, while heavy London summer flies settled on his head and face, -and robbed his slumbers of half their charms. - -'I beg your pardon,' said he, jumping up as though he had been detected -in some disgraceful act. 'Upon my word, Frank, I beg your pardon; -but--well, my dear fellow, all well at Greshamsbury--eh?' and as he -shook himself, he made a lunge at one uncommonly disagreeable fly that -had been at him for the last ten minutes. It is hardly necessary to say -that he missed his enemy. - -'I should have been with you before, doctor, but I was down at Malvern.' - -'At Malvern, eh? Ah! so Oriel told me. The death of poor Sir Louis -was very sudden--was it not?' - -'Very.' - -'Poor fellow--poor fellow! His fate has for some time been past hope. -It is a madness, Frank; the worst of madness. Only think of it--father -and son! And such a career as the father had--such a career as the son -might have had!' - -'It has been very quickly run,' said Frank. - -'May it be all forgiven him! I sometimes cannot but believe in a -special Providence. That poor fellow was not able, never would have been -able, to make proper use of the means which fortune had given him. I -hope they may fall into better hands. There is no use in denying it, his -death will be an immense relief to me, and a relief also to your father. -All this law business will now, of course, be stopped. As for me, I hope -I may never be trustee again.' - -Frank had put his hand four or five times into his breast-pocket, and -had as often taken out and put back again Mary's letter before he could -find himself able to bring Dr Thorne to the subject. At last there was a -lull in the purely legal discussion, caused by the doctor intimating -that he supposed Frank would now soon return to Greshamsbury. - -'Yes; I shall go to-morrow morning.' - -'What! so soon as that? I counted on having you one day in London with -me.' - -'No, I shall go to-morrow. I'm not fit for company for any one. Nor am -I fit for anything. Read that, doctor. It's no use putting it off any -longer. I must get you to talk this over with me. Just read that, and -tell me what you think about it. It was written a week ago, but somehow -I have only got it to-day.' And putting the letter into the doctor's -hands, he turned away to the window, and looked out among the Holborn -omnibuses. Dr Thorne took the letter and read it. Mary, after she had -written it, had bewailed to herself that the letter was cold; but it had -not seemed cold to her lover, nor did it appear so to her uncle. When -Frank turned round from the window, the doctor's handkerchief was up to -his eyes; who, in order to hide the tears that were there, was obliged -to go through a rather violent process of blowing his nose. - -'Well,' he said, as he gave back the letter to Frank. - -Well! what did well mean? Was it well? or would it be well were he, -Frank, to comply with the suggestion made to him by Mary? - -'It is impossible,' he said, 'that matters should go on like that. Think -what her sufferings must have been before she wrote that. I am sure she -loves me.' - -'I think she does,' said the doctor. - -'And it is out of the question that she should be sacrificed; nor will I -consent to sacrifice my own happiness. I am quite willing to work for my -bread, and I am sure that I am able. I will not submit to--Doctor, what -answer do you think I ought to give to that letter? There can be no -person so anxious for her happiness as you are--except myself.' And as -he asked the question, he again put into the doctor's hands, almost -unconsciously, the letter which he had still been holding in his own. - -The doctor turned it over and over, and then opened it again. - -'What answer ought I to make to it?' demanded Frank, with energy. - -'You see, Frank, I have never interfered in this matter, otherwise than -to tell you the whole truth about Mary's birth.' - -'Oh, but you must interfere: you should say what you think.' - -'Circumstanced as you are now--that is, just at the present moment--you -could hardly marry immediately.' - -'Why not let me take a farm? My father could, at any rate, manage a -couple of thousand pounds or so for me to stock it. That would not be -asking much. If he could not give it me, I would not scruple to borrow -so much elsewhere.' And Frank bethought him of all Miss Dunstable's -offers. - -'Oh, yes; that could be managed.' - -'Then why not marry immediately; say in six months or so? I am not -unreasonable; though, Heaven knows, I have been kept in suspense long -enough. As for her, I am sure she must be suffering frightfully. You -know her best, and, therefore, I ask you what answer I ought to make: as -for myself, I have made up my own mind; I am not a child, nor will I let -them treat me as such.' - -Frank, as he spoke, was walking rapidly about the room; and h brought -out his different positions, one after the other, with a little pause, -while waiting for the doctor's answer. The doctor was sitting, with the -letter still in his hands, on the head of the sofa, turning over in his -mind the apparent absurdity of Frank's desire to borrow two thousand -pounds for a farm, when, in all human probability, he might in a few -months be in possession of almost any sum he should choose to name. And -yet he would not tell him of Sir Roger's will. 'If it should turn out to -be all wrong?' said he to himself. - -'Do you wish me to give her up?' said Frank, at last. - -'No. How can I wish it? How can I expect a better match for her? -Besides, Frank, I love no man in the world so well as I do you.' - -'Then will you help me?' - -'What! against your father?' - -'Against! no, not against anybody. But will you tell Mary she has your -consent?' - -'I think she knows that.' - -'But you have never said anything to her?' - -'Look here, Frank; you ask me for my advice, and I will give it you: go -home, though, indeed, I would rather you went anywhere else.' - -'No, I must go home; and I must see her.' - -'Very well, go home: as for seeing Mary, I think you had better put it -off for a fortnight.' - -'Quite impossible.' - -'Well, that's my advice. But, at any rate, make up your mind to nothing -for a fortnight. Wait for one fortnight, and I then will tell you -plainly--you and her too--what I think you ought to do. At the end of a -fortnight come to me, and tell the squire that I will take it as a great -kindness if he will come with you. She has suffered terribly, terribly; -and it is necessary that something should be settled. But a fortnight -can make no great difference.' - -'And the letter?' - -'Oh! there's the letter.' - -'But what shall I say? Of course I shall write to her to-night.' - -'Tell her to wait a fortnight. And, Frank, mind you bring your father -with you.' - -Frank could draw nothing further from his friend save constant -repetitions of this charge to him to wait a fortnight,--just one other -fortnight. - -'Well, I will come to you at any rate,' said Frank; 'and, if possible, I -will bring my father. But I shall write to Mary to-night.' - -On the Saturday morning, Mary, who was then nearly broken-hearted at her -lover's silence, received a short note:-- - -'MY OWN MARY - -'I shall be home to-morrow. I will by no means release you -from your promise. Of course you will perceive that I only -got your letter to-day.' - -Your own dearest, -FRANK.' - -Short as it was, this sufficed Mary. It is one thing for a young lady -to make prudent, heart-breaking suggestions, but quite another to have -them accepted. She did call him dearest Frank, even on that one day, -almost as often as he had desired her. - - - -CHAPTER XLVI - -OUR PET FOX FINDS A TAIL - -Frank returned home, and his immediate business was of course with his -father, and with Mr Gazebee, who was still at Greshamsbury. - -'But who is the heir?' asked Mr Gazebee, when Frank had explained that -the death of Sir Louis rendered unnecessary any immediate legal steps. - -'Upon my word, I don't know,' said Frank. - -'You saw Dr Thorne,' said the squire. 'He must have known.' - -'I never thought of asking him,' said Frank, naively. - -Mr Gazebee looked rather solemn. 'I wonder at that,' said he; 'for -everything depends on the hands the property will go into. Let me see; I -think Sir Roger had a married sister. Was not that so, Mr Gresham?' And -then it occurred for the first time, both to the squire and to his son, -that Mary Thorne was the eldest child of this sister. But it never -occurred to either of them that Mary could be the baronet's heir. - -Dr Thorne came down for a couple of days before the fortnight was over -to see his patients, and then returned again to London. But during this -short visit he was utterly dumb on the subject of the heir. He called at -Greshamsbury to see Lady Arabella, and was even questioned by the squire -on the subject. But he obstinately refused to say anything more than -nothing certain could be known for a few days. - -Immediately after his return, Frank saw Mary, and told her all that had -happened. 'I cannot understand my uncle,' said she, almost trembling as -she stood close to him in her own drawing-room. 'He usually hates -mysteries, and yet now he is so mysterious. He told me, Frank--that was -after I had written that unfortunate letter--' - -'Unfortunate indeed! I wonder what you really thought of me when you -were writing it?' - -'If you had heard what your mother said, you would not be surprised. -But, after that, uncle said--' - -'Said what?' - -'He seemed to think--I don't remember what it was he said. But he said, -he hoped that things might yet turn out well; and then I was almost -sorry that I had written the letter.' - -'Of course you were sorry, and so you ought to have been. To say that -you would never call me Frank again!' - -'I didn't exactly say that.' - -'I have told him that I will wait a fortnight, and so I will. After -that, I shall take the matter into my own hands.' - -It may be supposed that Lady Arabella was not well pleased to learn that -Frank and Mary had been again together; and, in the agony of her spirit, -she did say some ill-natured things before Augusta, who had now returned -home from Courcy Castle, as to the gross impropriety of Mary's conduct. -But to Frank she said nothing. - -Nor was there much said between Frank and Beatrice. If everything could -really be settled at the end of that fortnight which was to witness the -disclosure of the doctor's mystery, there would still be time to arrange -that Mary should be at the wedding. 'It shall be settled then,' he said -to himself; 'and if it be settled, my mother will hardly venture to -exclude my affianced bride from the house.' It was now the beginning of -August, and it wanted yet a month to the Oriel wedding. - -But though he said nothing to his mother or to Beatrice, he did say much -to his father. In the first place, he showed him Mary's letter. 'If your -heart be not made of stone it will be softened by that,' he said. Mr -Gresham's heart was not of stone, and he did acknowledge that the letter -was a very sweet letter. But we know how the drop of water hollows -stone. It was not by the violence of his appeal that Frank succeeded in -obtaining from his father a sort of half-consent that he would no longer -oppose the match; but by the assiduity with which the appeal was -repeated. Frank, as we have said, had more stubbornness of will than his -father; and so, before the fortnight was over, the squire had been -talked over, and promised to attend at the doctor's bidding. - -'I suppose you had better take the Hazlehurst farm,' said he to his son, -with a sigh. 'It joins the park and the home-fields, and I will give you -them up also. God knows, I don't care about farming any more--or about -anything else either.' - -'Don't say that, father.' - -'Well, well! But, Frank, where will you live? The old house is big -enough for us all. But how would Mary get on with your mother?' - -At the end of this fortnight, true to his time, the doctor returned to -the village. He was a bad correspondent; and though he had written some -short notes to Mary, he had said no word to her about his business. It -was late in the evening when he got home, and it was understood by Frank -and the squire that they were to be with him on the following morning. -Not a word had been said to Lady Arabella on the subject. - -It was late in the evening when he got home, and Mary waited for him -with a heart almost sick with expectation. As soon as the fly had -stopped at the little gate she heard his voice, and heard at once that -it was quick, joyful, and telling much of inward satisfaction. He had a -good-natured word for Janet, and called Thomas an old blunder-head in a -manner that made Bridget laugh outright. - -'He'll have his nose put out of joint some day; won't he?' said the -doctor. Bridget blushed and laughed again, and made a sign to Thomas -that he had better look to his face. - -Mary was in his arms before he was yet within the door. 'My darling,' -said he, tenderly kissing her. 'You are my own darling yet awhile.' - -'Of course I am. Am I not always to be so?' - -'Well, well; let me have some tea, at any rate, for I'm in a fever of -thirst. They may call that tea at the Junction if they will; but if -China were sunk under the sea it would make no difference to them.' - -Dr Thorne always was in a fever of thirst when he got home from the -railway, and always made complaint as to tea at the Junction. Mary went -about her usual work with almost more than her usual alacrity, and so -they were soon seated in the drawing-room together. - -She soon found that his manner was more than ordinarily kind to her; and -there was moreover something about him which seemed to make him sparkle -with contentment, but he said no word about Frank, nor did he make any -allusion to the business which had taken him up to town. - -'Have you got through all your work?' she said to him once. - -'Yes, yes; I think all.' - -'And thoroughly?' - -'Yes; thoroughly, I think. But I am very tired, and so are you too, -darling, with waiting for me.' - -'Oh, no, I am not tired,' said she, as she went on continually filling -his cup; 'but I am so happy to have you home again. You have been away -so much lately.' - -'Ah, yes; well I suppose I shall not go away any more now. It will be -somebody else's turn now.' - -'Uncle, I think you are going to take up writing mystery romances, like -Mrs Radciffe's.' - -'Yes; and I'll begin to-morrow, certainly with--But, Mary, I will not -say another word to-night. Give me a kiss, dearest, and I'll go.' - -Mary did kiss him, and he did go. But as she was still lingering in the -room, putting away a book, or a reel of thread, and then sitting down to -think what the morrow would bring forth, the doctor again came into the -room in his dressing-gown, and with the slippers on. - -'What, not gone yet?' said he. - -'No, not yet; I'm going now.' - -'You and I, Mary, have always affected a good deal of indifference as to -money, and all that sort of thing.' - -'I won't acknowledge that it has been an affectation at all,' she -answered. - -'Perhaps not; but we have often expressed it, have we not?' - -'I suppose, uncle, you think that we are like the fox that lost his -tail, or rather some unfortunate fox that might be born without one.' - -'I wonder how we should either of us bear it if we found ourselves -suddenly rich. It would be a great temptation--a sore temptation. I -fear, Mary, that when poor people talk disdainfully of money, they often -are like your fox, born without a tail. If nature suddenly should give -that beast a tail, would he not be prouder of it than all the other -foxes in the wood?' - -'Well, I suppose he would. That's the very meaning of the story. But -how moral you've become all of a sudden, at twelve o'clock at night! -Instead of being Mrs Radcliffe, I shall think you're Mr Aesop.' - -He took up the article which he had come to seek, and kissing her again -on the forehead, went away to his bed-room without further speech. 'What -can he mean by all this about money?' said Mary to herself. 'It cannot -be that by Sir Louis's death he will get any of all this property;' and -then she began to bethink herself whether, after all, she would wish him -to be a rich man. 'If he were very rich, he might do something to assist -Frank; and then--' - -There never was a fox yet without a tail who would not be delighted to -find himself suddenly possessed of that appendage. Never; let the -untailed fox have been ever so sincere in his advice to his friends! We -are all of us, the good and the bad, looking for tails--for one tail, or -for more than one; we do so too often by ways that are mean enough: but -perhaps there is no tail-seeker more mean, more sneakingly mean than he -who looks out to adorn his bare back by a tail by marriage. - -The doctor was up very early the next morning, long before Mary was -ready with her teacups. He was up, and in his own study behind the shop, -arranging dingy papers, pulling about tin boxes which he had brought -down with him from London, and piling on his writing-table one set of -documents in one place, and one in another. 'I think I understand it -all,' said he; 'but yet I know I shall be bothered. Well, I never will -be anyone's trustee again. Let me see!' and then he sat down, and with -bewildered look recapitulated to himself sundry heavy items. 'What those -shares are really worth I cannot understand, and nobody seems to be able -to tell one. They must make it out among them as best they can. Let me -see; that's Boxall Hill, and this is Greshamsbury. I'll put a newspaper -over Greshamsbury, or the squire will know it!' and then, having made -his arrangements, he went to his breakfast. - -I know I am wrong, my much and truly honoured critic, about these -title-deeds and documents. But when we've got a barrister in hand, then -if I go wrong after that, let the blame be on my own shoulders--or on -his. - -The doctor ate his breakfast quickly; and did not talk much to his -niece. But what he did say was of a nature to make her feel strangely -happy. She could not analyse her own feelings, or give a reason for her -own confidence; but she certainly did feel, and even trust, that -something was going to happen after breakfast which would make her more -happy than she had been for many months. - -'Janet,' said he, looking at his watch, 'if Mr Gresham and Mr Frank -call, show them into my study. What are you going to do with yourself, -my dear?' - -'I don't know, uncle; you are so mysterious, and I am in such a twitter, -that I don't know what to do. Why is Mr Gresham coming here--that is, -the squire?' - -'Because I have business with him about the Scatcherd property. You know -that he owed Sir Louis money. But don't go out, Mary. I want you to be -in the way if I should have to call for you. You can stay in the -drawing-room, can't you?' - -'Oh, yes, uncle; or here.' - -'No, dearest; go into the drawing-room.' Mary obediently did as she was -bid; and there she sat, for the next three hours, wondering, wondering, -wondering. During the greater part of that time, however, she well knew -that Mr Gresham, senior, and Mr Gresham, junior, were both with her -uncle, below. - -At eleven the doctor's visitors came. he had expected them somewhat -earlier, and was beginning to become fidgety. He had so much on his -hands that he could not sit still for a moment till he had, at any rate, -commenced it. The expected footsteps were at last heard on the -gravel-path, and moment or two afterwards Janet ushered the father and -son into the room. - -The squire did not look very well. He was worn and sorrowful, and -rather pale. The death of his young creditor might be supposed to have -given him some relief from his more pressing cares, but the necessity of -yielding to Frank's wishes had almost more than balanced this. When a -man has daily to reflect that he is poorer than he was the day before, -he soon becomes worn and sorrowful. - -But Frank was well; both in health and spirits. He also felt as Mary -did, that the day was to bring forth something which should end his -present troubles; and he could not but be happy to think that he could -now tell Dr Thorne that his father's consent to his marriage had been -given. - -The doctor shook hands with them both, and then they sat down. They were -all rather constrained in their manner; and at first it seemed that -nothing but little speeches of compliment were to be made. At last, the -squire remarked that Frank had been talking to him about Miss Thorne. - -'About Mary?' said the doctor. - -'Yes; about Mary,' said the squire, correcting himself. It was quite -unnecessary that he should use so cold a name as the other, now that he -had agreed to the match. - -'Well!' said Dr Thorne. - -'I suppose it must be so, doctor. He has set his heart upon it, and God -knows, I have nothing to say against her--against her personally. No one -could say a word against her. She is a sweet, good girl, excellently -brought up; and, as for myself, I have always loved her.' Frank drew -near to his father, and pressed his hand against the squire's arm, by -way of giving him, in some sort, a filial embrace for his kindness. - -'Thank you, squire, thank you,' said the doctor. 'It is very good of -you to say that. She is a good girl, and if Frank chooses to take her, -he will, in my estimation, have made a good choice.' - -'Chooses!' said Frank, with all the enthusiasm of a lover. - -The squire felt himself perhaps a little ruffled at the way in which the -doctor received his gracious intimation; but he did now show it as he -went on. 'They cannot, you know, doctor, look to be rich people--' - -'Ah! well, well,' interrupted the doctor. - -'I have told Frank so, and I think that you should tell Mary. Frank -means to take some land into his hand, and he must farm it as a farmer. -I will endeavour to give him three, or perhaps four hundred a year. But -you know better--' - -'Stop, squire; stop a minute. We will talk about that presently. This -death of poor Sir Louis will make a difference.' - -'Not permanently,' said the squire mournfully. - -'And now, Frank,' said the doctor, not attending to the squire's last -words, 'what do you say?' - -'What do I say? I say what I said to you in London the other day. I -believe Mary loves me; indeed, I won't be affected--I know she does. I -have loved her--I was going to say always; and, indeed, I almost might -say so. My father knows that this is no light fancy of mine. As to what -he says about our being poor, why--' - -The doctor was very arbitrary, and would hear neither of them on the -subject. - -'Mr Gresham,' said he, interrupting Frank, 'of course I am well aware -how very little suited Mary is by birth to marry your only son.' - -'It is too late to think about that now,' said the squire. - -'It is not too late for me to justify myself,' replied the doctor. 'We -have long known each other, Mr Gresham, and you said here the other day, -that this is a subject as to which we have been of one mind. Birth and -blood are very valuable gifts.' - -'I certainly think so,' said the squire; 'but one can't have -everything.' - -'No; one can't have everything.' - -'If I am satisfied in that matter--' began Frank. - -'Stop a moment, my dear boy,' said the doctor. 'As your father says, -one can't have everything. My dear friend--' and he gave his hand to the -squire--'do not be angry if I alluded for a moment to the estate. It has -grieved me to see it melting away--the old family acres that have so -long been the heritage of the Greshams.' - -'We need not talk about that now, Dr Thorne,' said Frank, in an almost -angry tone. - -'But I must, Frank, for one moment, to justify myself. I could not have -excused myself in letting Mary think that she could become your wife if -I had not hoped that good might come of it.' - -'Well; good will come of it,' said Frank, who did not quite understand -at what the doctor was driving. - -'I hope so. I have had much doubt about this, and have been sorely -perplexed; but now I do hope so. Frank--Mr Gresham--' and then Dr Thorne -rose from his chair; but was, for a moment, unable to go on with his -tale. - -'We will hope that it is all for the best,' said the squire. - -'I am sure it is,' said Frank. - -'Yes; I hope it is. I do think it is; I am sure it is, Frank. Mary will -not come to you empty-handed. I wish for your sake--yes, and for hers -too--that her birth were equal to her fortune, as her worth is superior -to both. Mr Gresham, this marriage will, at any rate, put an end to your -pecuniary embarrassments--unless, indeed, Frank should prove a hard -creditor. My niece is Sir Roger Scatcherd's heir.' - -The doctor, as soon as he made the announcement, began to employ himself -sedulously about the papers on the table; which, in the confusion caused -by his own emotion, he transferred hither and thither in such a manner -as to upset all his previous arrangements. 'And now,' he said, 'I might -as well explain, as well as I can, of what that fortune consists. Here, -this is--no--' - -'But, Dr Thorne,' said the squire, now perfectly pale, and almost -gasping for breath, 'what is it you mean?' - -'There's not a shadow of doubt,' said the doctor. 'I've had Sir Abraham -Haphazard, and Sir Rickety Giggs, and old Neversaye Dis, and Mr Snilam; -and they are all of the same opinion. There is not the smallest doubt -about it. Of course, she must administer, and all that; and I'm afraid -there'll be a very heavy sum to pay for the tax; for she cannot inherit -as a niece, you know. Mr Snilam pointed out that particularly. But, -after all that, there'll be--I've got it down on a piece of paper, -somewhere--three grains of blue pill. I'm really so bothered, squire, -with all these papers, and all those lawyers, that I don't know whether -I'm sitting or standing. There's ready money enough to pay all the tax -and all the debts. I know that, at any rate.' - -'You don't mean to say that Mary Thorne is now possessed of all Sir -Roger Scatcherd's wealth?' at last ejaculated the squire. - -'But that's exactly what I do mean to say,' said the doctor, looking up -from his papers with a tear in his eye, and a smile on his mouth; 'and -what is more, squire, you owe her at the present moment exactly--I've -got that down too, somewhere, only I am so bothered with all these -papers. Come, squire, when do you mean to pay her? She's in a great -hurry, as young ladies are when they want to get married.' - -The doctor was inclined to joke if possible, so as to carry off, as it -were, some of the great weight of obligation which it might seem that he -was throwing on the father and son; but the squire was by no means in a -state to understand a joke: hardly as yet in a state to comprehend what -was so very serious in this matter. - -'Do you mean that Mary is the owner of Boxall Hill?' said he. - -'Indeed I do,' said the doctor; and he was just going to add, 'and of -Greshamsbury also,' but he stopped himself. - -'What, the whole property there?' - -'That's only a small portion,' said the doctor. 'I almost wish it were -all, for then I would not be so bothered. Look here; these are the -Boxall Hill title-deeds; that's the simplest part of the whole affair; -and Frank may go and settle himself there to-morrow if he pleases.' - -'Stop a moment, Dr Thorne,' said Frank. These were the only words which -he had yet uttered since the tidings had been conveyed to him. - -'And these, squire, are the Greshamsbury papers:' and the doctor, with -considerable ceremony, withdrew the covering newspapers. 'Look at them; -there they all are once again. When I suggested to Mr Snilam that I -supposed they might now all go back to the Greshamsbury muniment room, I -thought he would have fainted. As I cannot return them to you, you will -have to wait till Frank shall give them up.' - -'But, Dr Thorne,' said Frank. - -'Well, my boy.' - -'Does Mary know all about this?' - -'Not a word of it. I mean that you shall tell her.' - -'Perhaps, under such very altered circumstances--' - -'Eh?' - -'The change is so great and so sudden, so immense in its effects, that -Mary may wish perhaps--' - -'Wish! wish what? Wish not to be told of it at all?' - -'I shall not think of holding her to her engagement--that is, if--I mean -to say, she should have time at any rate for consideration.' - -'Oh, I understand,' said the doctor. 'She shall have time for -consideration. How much shall we give her, squire, three minutes? Go up -to her Frank: she is in the drawing-room.' - -Frank went to the door, and then hesitated, and returned. 'I could not -do it,' said he. 'I don't think that I understand it all yet. I am so -bewildered that I could not tell her;' and he sat down at the table, and -began to sob with emotion. - -'And she knows nothing of it?' said the squire. - -'Not a word. I thought that I would keep the pleasure of telling her -for Frank.' - -'She should not be left in suspense,' said the squire. - -'Come, Frank, go up to her,' again urged the doctor. 'You've been ready -enough with your visits when you knew that you ought to stay away.' - -'I cannot do it,' said Frank, after a pause of some moments; 'nor is it -right that I should. It would be taking advantage of her.' - -'Go to her yourself, doctor; it is you that should do it,' said the -squire. - -After some further slight delay, the doctor got up, and did go upstairs. -He, even, was half afraid of the task. 'It must be done,' he said to -himself, as his heavy steps mounted the stairs. 'But how to tell it?' - -When he entered, Mary was standing half-way up the room, as though she -had risen to meet him. Her face was troubled, and her eyes were almost -wild. The emotion, the hopes, the fears of the morning had almost been -too much for her. She had heard the murmuring of the voices in the room -below, and had known that one of them was that of her lover. Whether -that discussion was to be for her good or ill she did not know; but she -felt that further suspense would almost kill her. 'I could wait for -years,' she said to herself, 'if I did but know. If I lost him, I -suppose I should bear it, if I did but know.'--Well; she was going to -know. - -Her uncle met her in the middle of the room. His face was serious, -though not sad; too serious to confirm her hopes at that moment of -doubt. 'What is it, uncle?' she said, taking one of his hands between -both of her own. 'What is it? Tell me.' And as she looked up into his -face with her wild eyes, she almost frightened him. - -'Mary,' he said gravely, 'you have heard much, I know of Sir Roger -Scatcherd's great fortune.' - -'Yes, yes, yes!' - -'Now that poor Sir Louis is dead--' - -'Well, uncle, well?' - -'It has been left--' - -'To Frank! to Mr Gresham, to the squire!' exclaimed Mary, whe felt, -with an agony of doubt, that this sudden accession of immense wealth -might separate her still further from her lover. - -'No, Mary, not to the Greshams; but to yourself.' - -'To me!' she cried, and putting both her hands to her forehead, she -seemed to be holding her temples together. 'To me!' - -'Yes, Mary; it is all your own now. To do as you like best with it -all--all. May God, in His mercy, enable you to bear the burden, and -lighten for you the temptation!' - -She had so far moved as to find the nearest chair, and there she was now -seated, staring at her uncle with fixed eyes. 'Uncle,' she said, 'what -does it mean?' Then he came, and sitting beside her, he explained, as -best he could, the story of her birth, and her kinship with the -Scatcherds. 'And where is he, uncle?' she said. 'Why does he not come to -me?' - -'I wanted him to come, but her refused. They are both there now, the -father and son; shall I fetch them?' - -'Fetch them! whom? The squire? No, uncle; but may we go to them?' - -'Surely, Mary.' - -'But, uncle--' - -'Yes, dearest.' - -'Is it true? are you sure? For his sake, you know; not for my own. The -squire, you know--Oh, uncle! I cannot go.' - -'They shall come to you.' - -No--no. I have gone to him such hundreds of times; I will never allow -that he shall be sent to me. But, uncle, is it true?' - -The doctor, as he went downstairs, muttered something about Sir Abraham -Haphazard, and Sir Rickety Giggs; but these great names were much thrown -away upon poor Mary. The doctor entered the room first, and the heiress -followed him with downcast eyes and timid steps. She was at first afraid -to advance, but when she did look up, and saw Frank standing alone by -the window, her lover restored her courage, and rushing up to him, she -threw herself into his arms. 'Oh, Frank; my own Frank! my own Frank! we -shall never be separated again.' - - - -CHAPTER XLVII - -HOW THE BRIDE WAS RECEIVED, AND WHO WERE ASKED TO THE WEDDING - -And thus after all did Frank perform his duty; he did marry money; or -rather, as the wedding has not yet taken place, and is, indeed, as yet -hardly talked of, we should more properly say that he had engaged -himself to marry money. And then, such a quantity of money! the -Scatcherd wealth greatly exceeded the Dunstable wealth; so that our hero -may be looked on as having performed his duties in a manner deserving -the very highest commendation from all classes of the De Courcy -connexion. - -And he received it. But that was nothing. That he should be feted by -the De Courcys and the Greshams, now that he was about to do his duty by -his family in so exemplary a manner: that he should be patted on the -back, now that he no longer meditated that vile crime which had been so -abhorrent to his mother's soul; this was only natural; this is hardly -worthy of remark. But there was another to be feted, another person to -be made a personage, another blessed human mortal about to do her duty -by the family of Gresham in a manner that deserved, and should receive, -Lady Arabella's warmest caresses. - -Dear Mary! It was, indeed, not singular that she should be prepared to -act so well, seeing that in early youth she had had the advantage of an -education in the Greshamsbury nursery; but not on that account was it -the less fitting that her virtue should be acknowledged, eulogized, nay, -all but worshipped. - -How the party at the doctor's got itself broken up, I am not prepared to -say. Frank, I know, stayed, and dined there, and his poor mother, who -would not retire to rest till she had kissed him, and blessed him, and -thanked him for all he was doing for the family, was kept waiting in her -dressing-room till a very unreasonable hour of the night. - -It was the squire who brought the news up to the house. 'Arabella,' he -said, in a low, but somewhat solemn voice, 'you will be surprised at the -news I bring you. Mary Thorne is the heiress to all the Scatcherd -property!' - -'Oh, heavens! Mr Gresham.' - -'Yes, indeed,' continued the squire. 'So it is; it is very, very--' But -Lady Arabella had fainted. She was a woman who generally had her -feelings and her emotions much under her own control; but what she now -heard was too much for her. When she came to her senses, the first words -that escaped her lips were, 'Dear Mary!' - -But the household had to sleep on the news before it could be fully -realized. The squire was not by nature a mercenary man. If I have at all -succeeded in putting his character before the reader, he will be -recognized as one not over attached to money for money's sake. But -things had gone so hard with him, the world had become so rough, so -ungracious, so full of thorns, the want of means had become an evil so -keenly felt in every hour, that it cannot be wondered at that his dreams -that night should be of a golden Elysium. The wealth was not coming to -him. True. But his chief sorrow had been for his son. Now that son would -be his only creditor. It was as though mountains of marble had been -taken off his bosom. - -But Lady Arabella's dreams flew away at once into the seventh heaven. -Sordid as they certainly were, they were not absolutely selfish. Frank -would now certainly be the first commoner in Barsetshire; of course he -would represent the county; of course there would be the house in town; -it wouldn't be her house, but she was contented that the grandeur should -be that of her child. He would have heaven knows what to spend per -annum. And that it should come through Mary Thorne! What a blessing she -had allowed Mary to be brought into the Greshamsbury nursery! Dear Mary! - -'She will of course be one now,' said Beatrice to her sister. With her, -at the present moment, 'one' of course meant one of the bevy that was to -attend her at the altar. 'Oh dear! how nice! I shan't know what to say -to her to-morrow. But I know one thing.' - -'What is that?' asked Augusta. - -'She will be as mild and meek as a little dove. If she and the doctor -had lost every shilling in the world, she would have been proud as an -eagle.' It must be acknowledged that Beatrice had had the wit to read -Mary's character right. - -But Augusta was not quite pleased with the whole affair. Not that she -begrudged her brother his luck, or Mary her happiness. But her ideas of -right and wrong--perhaps we should rather say Lady Amelia's ideas--would -not be fairly carried out. - -'After all, Beatrice, this does not alter her birth. I know it is -useless saying anything to Frank.' - -'Why, you wouldn't break both their hearts now?' - -'I don't want to break their hearts, certainly. But there are those who -put their dearest and warmest feelings under restraint rather than -deviate from what they know to be proper.' Poor Augusta! she was the -stern professor of the order of this philosophy; the last in the family -who practised with unflinching courage its cruel behests; the last, -always excepting the Lady Amelia. - -And how slept Frank that night? With him, at least, let us hope, nay, -let us say boldly, that his happiest thoughts were not with the wealth -which he was to acquire. But yet it would be something to restore Boxall -Hill to Greshamsbury; something to give back to his father those rumpled -vellum documents, since the departure of which the squire had never had -a happy day; nay, something to come forth again to his friends as a gay, -young country squire, instead of a farmer, clod-compelling for his -bread. We would not have him thought to be better than he was, nor would -we wish him to make him of other stuff than nature generally uses. His -heart did exult at Mary's wealth; but it leaped higher still when he -thought of purer joys. - -And what shall we say of Mary's dreams? With her, it was altogether -what she should give, not at all what she should get. Frank had loved -her so truly when she was so poor, such an utter castaway; Frank, who -with his beauty, and spirit, and his talents might have won the smiles -of the richest, the grandest, the noblest! What lady's heart would not -have rejoiced to be allowed to love her Frank? But he had been true to -her through everything. Ah! how often she thought of that hour, when -suddenly appearing before her, he had strained her to his breast, just -as she had resolved how best to bear the death-like chill of his -supposed estrangements! She was always thinking of that time. She fed -her love by recurring over and over to the altered feeling of that -moment. Any now she could pay him for his goodness. Pay him! No, that -would be a base word, a base thought. Her payment must be made, if God -would so grant it, in many, many years to come. But her store, such as -it was, should be emptied into his lap. It was soothing to her pride -that she would not hurt him by her love, that she would bring no injury -to the old house. 'Dear, dear Frank' she murmured, as her waking dream, -conquered at last by sleep, gave way to those of the fairy world. - -But she thought not only of Frank; dreamed not only of him. What had he -not done for her, that uncle of hers, who had been more loving to her -than any father! How was he, too, to be paid? Paid, indeed! Love can -only be paid in its own coin: it knows of no other legal tender. Well, -if her home was to be Greshamsbury, at any rate she would not be -separated from him. - -What the doctor dreamed of that, neither he or anyone ever knew. 'Why, -uncle, I think you've been asleep,' said Mary to him that evening as he -moved for a moment uneasily on the sofa. He had been asleep for the last -three-quarters of an hour;--but Frank, his guest, had felt no offence. -'No, I've not been exactly asleep,' said he; 'but I'm very tired. I -wouldn't do it all again, Frank, to double the money. You haven't got -any more tea, have you, Mary?' - -On the following morning, Beatrice was of course with her friend. There -was no awkwardness between them in meeting. Beatrice had loved her when -she was poor, and though they had not lately thought alike on one very -important subject, Mary was too gracious to impute that to Beatrice as a -crime. - -'You will be one now, Mary; of course you will.' - -'If Lady Arabella will let me come.' - -'Oh, Mary; let you! Do you remember what you said once about coming, -and being near me? I have so often thought of it. And now, Mary, I must -tell you about Caleb;' and the young lady settled herself on the sofa, -so as to have a comfortable long talk. Beatrice had been quite right. -Mary was as meek with her, and as mild as a dove. - -And then Patience Oriel came. 'My fine, young darling, magnificent, -overgrown heiress,' said Patience, embracing her. 'My breath deserted -me, and I was nearly stunned when I heard of it. How small we shall all -be, my dear! I am quite prepared to toady to you immensely; but pray be -a little gracious to me, for the sake of auld lang syne.' - -Mary gave a long, long kiss. 'Yes, for auld lang syne, Patience; when -you took me away under your wing to Richmond.' Patience also had loved -her when she was in trouble, and that love, too, should never be -forgotten. - -But the great difficulty was Lady Arabella's first meeting with her. 'I -think I'll go down to her after breakfast,' said her ladyship to -Beatrice, as the two were talking over the matter while the mother was -finishing her toilet. - -'I am sure she will come up if you like it, mamma.' - -'She is entitled to every courtesy--as Frank's accepted bride, you -know,' said Lady Arabella. 'I would not for worlds fail in any respect -to her for his sake.' - -'He will be glad enough for her to come, I am sure,' said Beatrice. 'I -was talking to Caleb this morning, and he says--' - -The matter was of importance, and Lady Arabella gave it her most mature -consideration. The manner of receiving into one's family an heiress -whose wealth is cure all one's difficulties, disperse all one's -troubles, give a balm to all the wounds of misfortune, must under any -circumstances, be worthy of much care. But when that heiress had been -treated as Mary had been treated! - -'I must see her, at any rate, before I go to Courcy.' said Lady -Arabella. - -'Are you going to Courcy, mamma?' - -'Oh, certainly; yes, I must see my sister-in-law now. You don't seem to -realize the importance, my dear, of Frank's marriage. He will be in a -great hurry about it, and, indeed, I cannot blame him. I expect they -will all come here.' - -'Who, mamma? The De Courcys?' - -'Yes, of course. I shall be very much surprised if the earl does not -come now. And I must consult my sister-in-law as to the asking of the -Duke of Omnium.' - -Poor Mary! - -'And I think it will perhaps be better,' continued Lady Arabella, 'that -we should have a larger party than intended at your affair. The -countess, I'm sure, would come now. We couldn't put it off for ten days; -could we, dear?' - -'Put it off ten days!' - -'Yes; it would be convenient.' - -'I don't think Mr Oriel would like that at all, mamma. You know he has -made all his arrangements for his Sundays--' - -Pshaw! The idea of the parson's Sundays being allowed to have any -bearing on such a matter as Frank's wedding would now become! Why, they -would have--how much? Between twelve and fourteen thousand a year! Lady -Arabella, who had made her calculations a dozen times during the night, -had never found it to be much less than the larger sum. Mr Oriel's -Sundays indeed! - -After much doubt, Lady Arabella acceded to her daughter's suggestion, -that Mary should be received at Greshamsbury instead of being called on -at the doctor's house. 'If you think she won't mind the coming up -first,' said her ladyship. 'I certainly could receive her better here. I -should be more--more--more able, you know, to express what I feel. We -had better go into the big drawing-room to-day, Beatrice. Will you -remember to tell Mrs Richards?' - -'Oh, certainly,' was Mary's answer when Beatrice, with a voice a little -trembling, proposed her to walk up to the house. 'Certainly I will, if -Lady Arabella will receive me;--only, one thing, Trichy.' - -'What's that, dearest?' - -'Frank will think that I come after him.' - -'Never mind what he thinks. To tell you the truth, Mary, I often call -on Patience for the sake of finding Caleb. That's all fair now, you -know.' - -Mary very quietly got put on her straw bonnet, and said she was ready to -go up to the house. Beatrice was a little fluttered, and showed it. Mary -was, perhaps, a good deal fluttered, but she did not show it. She had -thought a good deal about her first interview with Lady Arabella, of her -first return to the house; but she had resolved to carry herself as -though the matter were easy to her. She would not allow it to be seen -that she felt that she brought with her to Greshamsbury, comfort, ease, -and renewed opulence. - -So she put on her straw bonnet and walked up with Beatrice. Everybody -about the place had already heard the news. The old woman at the lodge -curtsied low to her; the gardener, who was mowing the lawn. The butler, -who opened the front door--he must have been watching Mary's -approach--had manifestly put on a clean white neckcloth for the -occasion. - -'God bless you once more, Miss Thorne!' said the old man, in a -half-whisper. Mary was somewhat troubled, for everything seemed, in a -manner, to bow down before her. And why should not everything bow down -before her, seeing that she was in truth the owner of Greshamsbury? - -And then a servant in livery would open the big drawing-room door. This -rather upset both Mary and Beatrice. It became almost impossible for -Mary to enter the room just as she would have done two years ago; but -she got through the difficulty with much self-control. - -'Mamma, here's Mary,' said Beatrice. - -Nor was Lady Arabella quite mistress of herself, although she had -studied minutely how to bear herself. - -'Oh, Mary, dear Mary; what can I say to you?' and then, with a -handkerchief to her eyes, she ran forward and hid her face in Miss -Thorne's shoulders. 'What can I say--can you forgive my anxiety for my -son?' - -'How do you do, Lady Arabella?' said Mary. - -'My daughter! my child! my Frank's own bride! Oh, Mary! oh, my child! -If I have seemed unkind to you, it has been through love to him.' - -'All these things are over now,' said Mary. 'Mr Gresham told me -yesterday that I should be received as Frank's future wife; and so, you -see, I have come.' And then she slipped through Lady Arabella's arms, -and sat down, meekly down, on a chair. In five minutes she had escaped -with Beatrice into the school-room, and was kissing the children, and -turning over the new trousseau. They were, however, soon interrupted, -and there was, perhaps, some other kissing besides that of the children. - -'You have no business here at all, Frank,' said Beatrice. 'Has he, -Mary?' - -'None in the world, I should think.' - -'See what he has done to my poplin; I hope you won't have your things -treated so cruelly. He'll be careful enough about them.' - -'Is Oriel a good hand at packing up finery--eh, Beatrice,' said Frank. - -'He is, at any rate, too well-behaved to spoil it.' Thus Mary was again -made at home on the household of Greshamsbury. - -Lady Arabella did not carry out her little plan of delaying the Oriel -wedding. Her idea had been to add some grandeur to it, in order to make -it a more fitting precursor of that other greater wedding which was to -follow soon in its wake. But this, with the assistance of the countess, -she found herself able to do without interfering with poor Mr Oriel's -Sunday arrangements. The countess herself, with the Ladies Alexandrina -and Margaretta, now promised to come, even to the first affair; and for -the other, the whole De Courcy family would turn out, count and -countess, lords and ladies, Honourable Georges and Honourable Johns. -What honour, indeed, could be too great to show to a bride who had -fourteen thousand a year in her own right, or to a cousin, who had done -his duty by securing such a bride to himself! - -'If the duke be in the country, I am sure he will be happy to come,' -said the countess. 'Of course, he will be talking to Frank about -politics. I suppose the squire won't expect Frank to belong to the old -school now.' - -'Frank, of course, will judge for himself, Rosina;--with his position, -you know!' And so things were settled at Courcy Castle. - -And then Beatrice was wedded and carried off to the Lakes. Mary, as she -had promised, did stand near her; but not exactly in the gingham frock -of which she had once spoken. She wore on that occasion--But it will be -too much, perhaps, to tell the reader what she wore as Beatrice's -bridesmaid, seeing that a couple of pages, at least, must be devoted to -her marriage-dress, and seeing, also, that we have only a few pages to -finish everything; the list of visitors, the marriage settlements, the -dress, and all included. - -It was in vain that Mary endeavoured to repress Lady Arabella's ardour -for grand doings. After all, she was to be married from the doctor's -house, and not from Greshamsbury, and it was the doctor who should have -invited the guests; but, in this matter, he did not choose to oppose her -ladyship's spirit, and she had it all her own way. - -'What can I do?' said he to Mary. 'I have been contradicting her in -everything for the last two years. The least we can do is to let her -have her own way now in a trifle like this.' - -But there was one point on which Mary would let nobody have his or her -own way; on which the way to be taken was very manifestly to be her own. -This was touching the marriage settlements. It must not be supposed, -that if Beatrice were married on a Tuesday, Mary could be married on the -Tuesday week following. Ladies with twelve thousand a year cannot be -disposed of in that way: and bridegrooms who do their duty by marrying -money often have to be kept waiting. It was spring, the early spring, -before Frank was made altogether a happy man. - -But a word about the settlements. On this subject the doctor thought he -would have been driven mad. Messrs Slow and Bideawhile, as the lawyers -of the Greshamsbury family--it will be understood that Mr Gazebee's law -business was of quite a different nature, and his work, as regarded -Greshamsbury, was now nearly over--Messrs Slow and Bideawhile declared -that it would never do for them to undertake alone to draw out the -settlements. An heiress, such as Mary, must have lawyers of her own; -half a dozen at least, according to the apparent opinion of Messrs Slow -and Bideawhile. And so the doctor had to go to other lawyers, and they -again had to consult Sir Abraham, and Mr Snilam on a dozen different -heads. - -If Frank became tenant in tail, in right of his wife, but under his -father, would he be able to grant leases for more than twenty-one years? -and, if so, to whom would the right of trover belong? As to flotsam and -jetsam--there was a little property, Mr Critic, on the sea-shore--that -was a matter that had to be left unsettled at the last. Such points as -these do take a long time to consider. All this bewildered the doctor -sadly, and Frank himself began to make accusations that he was to be -done out of his wife altogether. - -But, as we have said, there was one point on which Mary would have her -own way. The lawyers might tie up as they would on her behalf all the -money, and shares, and mortgages which had belonged to the late Sir -Roger, with this exception, all that had ever appertained to -Greshamsbury should belong to Greshamsbury again; not in perspective, -not to her children, or to her children's children, but at once. Frank -should be lord of Boxall Hill in his own right; and as to those other -liens on Greshamsbury, let Frank manage that with his father as he might -think fit. She would only trouble herself to see that he was empowered -to do as he did think fit. - -'But,' argued the ancient, respectable family attorney to the doctor, -'that amounts to two-thirds of the whole estate. Two-thirds, Dr Thorne! -It is preposterous; I should almost say impossible.' And the scanty -hairs on the poor man's head almost stood on end as he thought of the -outrageous manner in which the heiress prepared to sacrifice herself. - -'It will all be the same in the end,' said the doctor, trying to make -things smooth. 'Of course, their joint object will be to put the -Greshamsbury property together again.' - -'But, my dear sir,'--and then, for twenty minutes, the lawyer went on -proving that it would be no means be the same thing; but, nevertheless, -Mary Thorne did have her own way. - -In the course of the winter, Lady de Courcy tried very hard to induce -the heiress to visit Courcy Castle, and this request was so backed by -Lady Arabella, that the doctor said he thought she might as well go -there for three or four days. But here, again, Mary was obstinate. - -'I don't see it at all,' she said. 'If you make a point of it, or -Frank, or Mr Gresham, I will go; but I can't see any possible reason.' -The doctor, when so appealed to, would not absolutely say that he made a -point of it, and Mary was tolerably safe as regarded Frank or the -squire. If she went, Frank would be expected to go, and Frank disliked -Courcy Castle almost more than ever. His aunt was now more than civil to -him, and, when they were together, never ceased to compliment him on the -desirable way in which he had done his duty by the family. - -And soon after Christmas a visitor came to Mary, and stayed a fortnight -with her: one whom neither she nor the doctor had expected, and of whom -they had not much more than heard. This was the famous Miss Dunstable. -'Birds of a feather flock together,' said Mrs Rantaway--late Miss -Gushing--when she heard of the visit. 'The railway man's niece--if you -can call her a niece--and the quack's daughter will do very well -together, no doubt.' - -'At any rate, they can count their money-bags,' said Mrs Umbleby. - -And in fact, Mary and Miss Dunstable did get on very well together; and -Miss Dunstable made herself quite happy at Greshamsbury, although some -people--including Mrs Rantaway--contrived to spread a report, that Dr -Thorne, jealous of Mary's money was going to marry her. - -'I shall certainly come and see you turned off,' said Miss Dunstable, -taking leave of her new friend. Miss Dunstable, it must be acknowledged, -was a little too fond of slang; but then, a lady with her fortune, and -of her age, may be fond of almost whatever she pleases. - -And so by degrees the winter wore away--very slowly to Frank, as he -declared often enough; and slowly, perhaps, to Mary also, but she did -not say so. The spring came round. The comic almanacs give us dreadful -pictures of January and February; but, in truth, the months which should -be made to look gloomy in England are March and April. Let no man boast -himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least the -seventh of May. - -It was early in April, however, that the great doings were to be done at -Greshamsbury. Not exactly on the first. It may be presumed, that in -spite of the practical, common-sense spirit of the age, very few people -do choose to have themselves united on that day. But some day in the -first week of that month was fixed for the ceremony, and from the end of -February all through March, Lady Arabella worked and strove in a manner -that entitled her to profound admiration. - -It was at last settled that the breakfast should be held in the large -dining-room at Greshamsbury. There was a difficulty about it which taxed -Lady Arabella to the utmost, for, in making the proposition, she could -not but seem to be throwing some slight on the house in which the -heiress had lived. But when the affair was once opened to Mary, it was -astonishing how easy it became. - -'Of course,' said Mary, 'all the rooms in our house would not hold half -the people you are talking about--if they must come.' - -Lady Arabella looked so beseechingly, nay, so piteously, that Mary had -not another word to say. It was evident that they must all come: the De -Courcys to the fifth generation; the Duke of Omnium himself, and others -in concatenation accordingly. - -'But will your uncle be angry if we have the breakfast up there? He has -been so very handsome to Frank, that I wouldn't make him angry for all -the world.' - -'If you don't tell him anything about it, Lady Arabella, he'll think -that it is all done properly. He will never know, if he's not told, that -he ought to give the breakfast, not you.' - -'Won't he, my dear?' And Lady Arabella looked her admiration for this -very talented suggestion. And so that matter was arranged. The doctor -never knew, till Mary told him some year or so afterwards, that he had -been remiss in any part of his duty. - -And who was asked to the wedding? In the first place, we have said that -the Duke of Omnium was there. This was, in fact, the one circumstance -that made this wedding so superior to any other that had ever taken -place in that neighbourhood. The Duke of Omnium never went anywhere; and -yet he went to Mary's wedding! And Mary, when the ceremony was over, -absolutely found herself kissed by a duke. 'Dearest Mary!' exclaimed -Lady Arabella, in her ecstasy of joy, when she saw the honour that was -done to her daughter-in-law. - -'I hope we shall induce you to come to Gatherum Castle soon,' said the -duke to Frank. 'I shall be having a few friends there in the autumn. Let -me see; I declare, I have not seen you since you were good enough to -come to my collection. Ha! ha! ha! It wasn't bad fun, was it?' Frank was -not very cordial with his answer. He had not quite reconciled himself to -the difference of his position. When he was treated as one of the -'collection' at Gatherum Castle, he had not married money. - -It would be vain to enumerate all the De Courcys that were there. There -was the earl, looking very gracious, and talking to the squire about the -county. And there was Lord Porlock, looking very ungracious, and not -talking to anybody about anything. And there was the countess, who for -the last week had done nothing but pat Frank on the back whenever she -could catch him. And there were the Ladies Alexandrina, Margaretta, and -Selina, smiling at everybody. And the Honourable George, talking in -whispers to Frank about his widow--'Not such a catch as yours, you know; -but something extremely snug;--and have it all my own way, too, old -fellow, or I shan't come to the scratch.' And the Honourable John -prepared to toady Frank about his string of hunters; and the Lady -Amelia, by herself, not quite contented with these democratic -nuptials--'After all, she is so absolutely nobody; absolutely, -absolutely,' she said confidentially to Augusta, shaking her head. But -before Lady Amelia had left Greshamsbury, Augusta was quite at a loss to -understand how there could be need for so much conversation between her -cousin and Mr Mortimer Gazebee. - -And there were many more De Courcys, whom to enumerate would be much too -long. - -And the bishop of the diocese, and Mrs Proudie were there. A hint had -even been given, that his lordship would himself condescend to perform -the ceremony, if this should be wished; but that work had already been -anticipated by a very old friend of the Greshams. Archdeacon Grantly, -the rector of Plumstead Episcopi, had long since undertaken this part of -the business; and the knot was eventually tied by the joint efforts of -himself and Mr Oriel. Mrs Grantly came with him, and so did Mrs -Grantly's sister, the new dean's wife. The dean himself was at the time -unfortunately absent at Oxford. - -And all the Bakers and the Jacksons were there. The last time they had -all met together under the squire's roof, was on the occasion of Frank's -coming of age. The present gala doings were carried on a very different -spirit. That had been a very poor affair, but this was worthy of the -best of Greshamsbury. - -Occasion also had been taken of this happy moment to make up, or rather -to get rid of the last shreds of the last feud that had so long -separated Dr Thorne from his own relatives. The Thornes of Ullathorne -had made many overtures in a covert way. But our doctor had contrived to -reject them. 'They would not receive Mary as their cousin,' said he, -'and I will go nowhere that she cannot go.' But now all this was -altered. Mrs Gresham would certainly be received in any house in the -county. And thus, Mr Thorne of Ullathorne, an amiable, popular old -bachelor, came to the wedding; and so did his maiden sister Miss Thorne, -than whose no kinder heart glowed all through Barsetshire. - -'My dear,' said she to Mary, kissing her, and offering her some little -tribute, 'I am very glad to make your acquaintance; very. It was not her -fault,' she added, speaking to herself. 'And now that she will be a -Gresham, that need not be any longer be thought of.' Nevertheless, could -Miss Thorne have spoken her inward thoughts out loud, she would have -declared, that Frank would have done better to have borne his poverty -than marry wealth without blood. But then, there are but few so stanch -as Miss Thorne; perhaps none in the county--always excepting the lady -Amelia. - -And Miss Dunstable, also, was a bridesmaid. 'Oh, no' said she, when -asked; 'you should have them young and pretty.' But she gave way when -she found that Mary did not flatter her by telling her that she was -either the one or the other. 'The truth is,' said Miss Dunstable, 'I -have always been a little in love with your Frank, and so I shall do it -for his sake.' There were but four: the other two were the Gresham -twins. Lady Arabella exerted herself greatly in framing hints to induce -Mary to ask some of the De Courcy ladies to do her so much honour; but -on this head Mary would please herself. 'Rank,' she said to Beatrice, -with a curl on her lip, 'has its drawbacks--and must put up with them.' - -And now I find that I have not one page--not half a page--for the -wedding-dress. But what matters? Will it not be all found written in the -columns of the Morning Post? - -And thus Frank married money, and became a great man. Let us hope that -he will be a happy man. As the time of the story has been brought down -so near to the present era, it is not practicable for the novelist to -tell much of his future career. When I last heard from Barsetshire, it -seemed to be quite settled that he is to take the place of one of the -old members at the next election; and they say, also, that there is no -chance of any opposition. I have heard, too, that there have been many -very private consultations between him and various gentlemen of the -county, with reference to the hunt; and the general feeling is said to -be that the hounds should go to Boxall Hill. - -At Boxall Hill the young people established themselves on their return -from the continent. And that reminds me that one word must be said of -Lady Scatcherd. - -'You will always stay here with us,' said Mary to her, caressing her -ladyship's rough hand, and looking kindly into that kind face. - -But Lady Scatcherd would not consent to this. 'I will come and see you -sometimes, and then I shall enjoy myself. Yes, I will come and see you, -and my own dear boy.' The affair was ended by her taking Mrs Opie -Green's cottage, in order that she might be near the doctor; Mrs Opie -Green having married--somebody. - -And of whom else must we say a word? Patience, also, of course, got a -husband--or will do so. Dear Patience! it would be a thousand pities -that so good a wife should be lost to the world. Whether Miss Dunstable -will ever be married, or Augusta Gresham, or Mr Moffat, or any of the -tribe of the De Courcys--except Lady Amelia--I cannot say. They have all -of them still their future before them. That Bridget was married to -Thomas--that I am able to assert; for I know that Janet was much put out -by their joint desertion. - -Lady Arabella has not yet lost her admiration for Mary, and Mary, in -return, behaves admirably. Another event is expected, and her ladyship -is almost as anxious about that as she was about the wedding. 'A matter, -you know, of much importance in the county!' she whispered to Lady De -Courcy. - -Nothing can be more happy than the intercourse between the squire and -his son. What their exact arrangements are, we need not specially -inquire; but the demon of pecuniary embarrassment has lifted his black -wings from the demesne of Greshamsbury. - -And now we have but one word left for the doctor. 'If you don't come -and dine with me,' said the squire to him, when they found themselves -both deserted, 'mind I shall come and dine with you.' And on this -principle they seem to act. Dr Thorne continues to extend his practice, -to the great disgust of Dr Fillgrave; and when Mary suggested to him -that he should retire, he almost boxed her ears. He knows the way, -however, to Boxall Hill as well as he ever did, and is willing to -acknowledge, that the tea there is almost as good as it ever was at -Greshamsbury. - - - - - -End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Dr Thorne, by Anthony Trollope - |