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diff --git a/34858.txt b/34858.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5bc0b8a --- /dev/null +++ b/34858.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21773 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, by George Meredith + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ordeal of Richard Feverel + A History of a Father and Son + +Author: George Meredith + +Editor: Frank W. Chandler + +Release Date: January 5, 2011 [EBook #34858] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Dianne Nolan, Louise Setzer and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + + + THE MODERN + STUDENT'S LIBRARY + + EACH VOLUME EDITED BY A LEADING + AMERICAN AUTHORITY + + This series is composed of such works as are conspicuous in the + province of literature for their enduring influence. Every volume + is recognized as essential to a liberal education and will tend to + infuse a love for true literature and an appreciation of the + qualities which cause it to endure. + + _A descriptive list of the volumes published in this series appears + in the last pages of this volume_ + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + + + + _THE MODERN STUDENT'S LIBRARY_ + + THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + + + + + THE ORDEAL + OF + RICHARD FEVEREL + + A HISTORY OF A FATHER AND SON + + BY + GEORGE MEREDITH + + EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION + BY + + FRANK W. CHANDLER + + PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH AND COMPARATIVE LITERATURE AND DEAN OF THE + COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON ATLANTA + + SAN FRANCISCO DALLAS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1896, 1917, BY + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + + Printed in the United States of America + + _All rights reserved. No part of this book + may be reproduced in any form without + the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I.--THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY 1 + + II.--SHOWING HOW THE FATES SELECTED THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY + TO TRY THE STRENGTH OF THE SYSTEM 9 + + III.--THE MAGIAN CONFLICT 16 + + IV.--ARSON 21 + + V.--ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK 30 + + VI.--JUVENILE STRATAGEMS 35 + + VII.--DAPHNE'S BOWER 42 + + VIII.--THE BITTER CUP 47 + + IX.--A FINE DISTINCTION 55 + + X.--RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY ORDEAL, AND IS + THE OCCASION OF AN APHORISM 60 + + XI.--IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY IS CLOSED + IN A LETTER 67 + + XII.--THE BLOSSOMING SEASON 72 + + XIII.--THE MAGNETIC AGE 83 + + XIV.--AN ATTRACTION 92 + + XV.--FERDINAND AND MIRANDA 97 + + XVI.--UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON 106 + + XVII.--GOOD WINE AND GOOD BLOOD 115 + + XVIII.--THE SYSTEM ENCOUNTERS THE WILD OATS SPECIAL PLEA 120 + + XIX.--A DIVERSION PLAYED ON A PENNY WHISTLE 124 + + XX.--CELEBRATES THE TIME-HONOURED TREATMENT OF A DRAGON + BY THE HERO 127 + + XXI.--RICHARD IS SUMMONED TO TOWN TO HEAR A SERMON 145 + + XXII.--INDICATES THE APPROACHES OF FEVER 153 + + XXIII.--CRISIS IN THE APPLE-DISEASE 163 + + XXIV.--OF THE SPRING PRIMROSE AND THE AUTUMNAL 175 + + XXV.--IN WHICH THE HERO TAKES A STEP 180 + + XXVI.--RECORDS THE RAPID DEVELOPMENT OF THE HERO 199 + + XXVII.--CONTAINS AN INTERCESSION FOR THE HEROINE 213 + + XXVIII.--RELATES HOW PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION WERE CONDUCTED + UNDER THE APRIL OF LOVERS 216 + + XXIX.--IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE COMEDY TAKES THE PLACE + OF THE FIRST 233 + + XXX.--CELEBRATES THE BREAKFAST 246 + + XXXI.--THE PHILOSOPHER APPEARS IN PERSON 255 + + XXXII.--PROCESSION OF THE CAKE 262 + + XXXIII.--NURSING THE DEVIL 279 + + XXXIV.--CONQUEST OF AN EPICURE 290 + + XXXV.--CLARE'S MARRIAGE 310 + + XXXVI.--A DINNER-PARTY AT RICHMOND 325 + + XXXVII.--MRS. BERRY ON MATRIMONY 341 + + XXXVIII.--AN ENCHANTRESS 352 + + XXXIX.--THE LITTLE BIRD AND THE FALCON: A BERRY TO THE + RESCUE! 376 + + XL.--CLARE'S DIARY 392 + + XLI.--AUSTIN RETURNS 409 + + XLII.--NATURE SPEAKS 420 + + XLIII.--AGAIN THE MAGIAN CONFLICT 429 + + XLIV.--THE LAST SCENE 437 + + XLV.--LADY BLANDISH TO AUSTIN WENTWORTH 454 + + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +I + +Among the Victorian novelists, George Meredith occupies a place apart. +Unlike Dickens, Thackeray, and Eliot, he appeals to a select few. Those +who appreciate him are folk of his own temper--cultivated, intellectual, +urbane. They are persons of taste and discernment. They are generally +the middle-aged rather than the young. They are those who, aloof and +contemplative, relish the comedy of life, rather than those who throw +themselves whole-heartedly into the game. It is not to be marvelled at, +therefore, that Meredith should have won his way slowly, or that +recognition, when it came, should have rendered his position unique +and secure. + +Meredith's career as a writer of prose was opened, in 1856, with +_The Shaving of Shagpat_, an experiment in fantastic Oriental +romance. In the following year, he exploited German romance less +successfully in _Farina, a Legend of Cologne_. Having thus trained +his 'prentice hand, he passed to mastery of his craft in _The Ordeal +of Richard Feverel_, published in 1859. This was his first modern +novel, and probably his best. It showed him, not only expert in the +use of language and original in literary technic, but distinguished, +also, as an observer of the world and an analyst of character. The +psychological novel of George Eliot, just emerging, found here a +rival even more subtle. _Adam Bede_, a twin-birth with _Feverel_, +although detailed in its exploration of motive and feeling, demanded +less mental effort on the part of its readers; it accordingly +attracted much greater attention. Whereas it was often reprinted, no +second edition of _Feverel_ came from the press for nearly two +decades. + +In the meantime, Meredith had continued his course undeterred by +lack of popular approval, writing six other novels before the +appearance, in 1879, of _The Egoist_--most characteristic of all. +Two novels in particular reflected his experience of Italy, gained +while acting there as war correspondent in 1866. The first was +_Emilia in England_ (1864), later rechristened _Sandra Belloni_. The +second was its sequel _Vittoria_ (1867). The other works of the +period comprise the semi-farcical _Evan Harrington_ (1861); the +serious _Rhoda Fleming_ (1865); the clever _Harry Richmond_ +(1870-71); and Meredith's favorite--_Beauchamp's Career_ (1874-75). +It is _The Egoist_, however, that most completely illustrates its +author's conception of the novel of types. In this work, with rare +skill and comic _elan_, if with a persistency a little wearisome, +he lays bare the secrets of a heart and intellect thoroughly +self-centered, proceeding so obviously from the desire to make +out a case that he is likely to displease those who value story, yet +satisfying those who enjoy brilliant comment on character and a +study of its intricacies. + +In his later novels, Meredith never forgot the typical in attending +to the particular, even though _The Tragic Comedians_ (1880) +reflected incidents in the life of the socialist leader Lassalle, +and _Diana of the Crossways_ (1885) certain traits of Sheridan's +granddaughter, Mrs. Norton. _One of Our Conquerors_ (1891), _Lord +Ormont and his Aminta_ (1894), and _The Amazing Marriage_ (1895) +bring to a close the catalogue of Meredith's fiction, except for the +unfinished _Celt and Saxon_ published after his death. + +Of Meredith as a poet this is not the place to speak. Suffice it to +say that he did his first writing in verse, issuing a volume when +twenty-three, and several others later in life, the best known being +his sequence of irregular sonnets entitled _Modern Love_ (1867). +His poetry, like his prose, is rich in content but difficult at +times by reason of its crabbed and meticulous expression--a trait +due to no obscurity of thought or lack of feeling, but rather to the +desire to compress much meaning within a cryptic phrase. As a +playwright, Meredith attempted comedy in The _Sentimentalists_, +which was acted posthumously. As an essayist, he fathered a +memorable discussion of the comic spirit and its uses, made concrete +in his novels. + +Meredith's life was comparatively uneventful. He was born in 1828 at +Portsmouth, the son of a naval outfitter. Early left an orphan, he +was educated in Germany, and, returning to England, studied law, +experimented in journalism, and fell in with a group of intellectuals +led by Frederic Harrison and John Morley. He became literary +adviser to the publishers Chapman and Hall; he edited for a +short period _The Fortnightly Review_, and served abroad as +correspondent for _The Morning Post_. But most of his maturity was +passed in rural retirement in Surrey. He was twice married, at first +unhappily to a daughter of the novelist, Thomas Love Peacock, and +then more fortunately to a Miss Vulliamy, who bore him two children. +His fame grew very slowly. Not until the age of sixty was he +recognized as among the chief English novelists. But at the time of +his death, in 1909, he was admittedly the foremost man of letters in +Great Britain. + + +II + +Meredith is first and last an intellectualist. Hence his preference +for the psychological novel, for the novel of types, for the novel +that is half essay, for the novel of distinctive style. Hence, also, +his conception of the importance for the novelist of comedy and the +comic spirit. Comedy, according to Meredith, is embodied mind, and +its function is to expose violations of rational law. It is common +sense chastising with the laughter of reason aberrations from the +sensible. Comedy measures individual shortcomings by the social +norm. It results from "the broad Alpine survey of the spirit born of +our united social intelligence." It is "a game played to throw +reflections upon social life, and it deals with human nature in the +drawing-room of civilized men and women, where we have no dust of +the struggling outer world, no mire, no violent crashes, to make the +correctness of the representation convincing." Comedy is thus +refined rather than Rabelaisian; it is impartial rather than +sentimental. It relies upon creating ideal figures that epitomize +mankind in certain follies. It is typical and general in character, +whereas tragedy is concerned primarily with the individual. + +"The comic spirit conceives a definite situation for a number of +characters, and rejects all accessories in the exclusive pursuit of +them and their speech." On the stage, the great master of such +comedy is Moliere, and in the novel, we might add, Meredith. +Meredith's confession of faith in the efficacy of the comic spirit +is given in the prelude to _The Egoist_, and in these words of his +famous _Essay_: "If you believe that our civilization is founded in +common-sense, you will, when contemplating men, discern a Spirit +overhead.... It has the sage's brows, and the sunny malice of a faun +lurks at the corners of the half-closed lips.... Its common aspect +is one of unsolicitous observation.... Men's future upon earth does +not attract it; their honesty and shapeliness in the present does; +and whenever they wax out of proportion, overblown...; whenever they +offend sound reason, fair justice; are false in humility or mined +with conceit,... the Spirit overhead will look humanly malign and +cast an oblique light on them, followed by volleys of silvery +laughter. That is the Comic Spirit." + +Unquestionably it is by the aid of this spirit that Meredith writes +his novels, even including such a tragedy from the victim's point of +view as _Richard Feverel_. For Meredith is theoretic or nothing. +Conceiving of a folly to be displayed and made ridiculous, he +invents persons and situations best to accomplish his purpose. He +is, therefore, no mere realist examining the confused detail of +actual life "by the watchmaker's eye in luminous rings eruptive of +the infinitesimal." He is rather an idealist, who holds it to be the +business of art to render life in quintessence. The artist must both +simplify and elaborate. First, he must simplify experience into +typical deeds and persons, eliminating from his scheme the merely +accidental and particular. Second, he must elaborate his +simplification, presenting it through representative concrete +instances that it may lose the aspect of an abstract formula and +acquire emotional significance. Meredith is thus an intellectualist +engaged in playing a game of literary chess. He has made the pattern +on his board and designed the pieces, and he moves them according to +a pre-arranged plan. Just as his Sir Austin seeks to enact the role +of Providence in determining the career of Richard Feverel, so +Meredith plays Providence to his personages, and, more than most +novelists, he visibly controls their fate. + +Since Meredith's folk are etherealized specimens of humanity set and +kept in motion by their creator, it is his attitude toward them that +interests us quite as much as their actions. Meredith's attitude is +determined by his comic outlook upon life. Unswayed by the petty +prejudices of his people, he surveys them with Olympian serenity, +aware of a hundred impulses and errors in their conduct that will +lead to conclusions undreamt of by themselves but clearly foreseen +by the novelist and his readers. From a rarer atmosphere than that +in which his people move, Meredith looks down upon their whimsies +and their deeds with a smile of calm omniscience. + +Moreover, he separates himself from them by a wall of clever +comment, sometimes sparkling and ironical, sometimes soberly +extended to the proportions of an essay. Indeed, his novels are +sometimes one-third narrative and two-thirds essay, with the +dissertational manner infecting the narrative parts incurably. No +one, I suppose, would continue reading _The Egoist_ merely from +interest in its plot. To enjoy it one must relish inspecting at +leisure the artificial attitudes of artificial people and listening, +not merely to their smart chatter, but to the smarter discourse of +the master of the puppets, who, while making them dance, lectures +for the edification of the elect. Thus Meredith, having shown his +hero touched by jealousy, lapses into a little essay on the theme. +"Remember the poets upon Jealousy," he writes. "It is to be haunted +in the heaven of two by a Third; preceded or succeeded, therefore +surrounded, embraced, hugged by this infernal Third; it is love's +bed of burning marl; to see and taste the withering Third in the +bosom of sweetness; to be dragged through the past and find the fair +Eden of it sulphurous; to be dragged to the gates of the future and +glory to behold them blood; to adore the bitter creature trebly and +with treble power to clutch her by the windpipe; it is to be +cheated, derided, shamed, and abject and supplicating, and +consciously demoniacal in treacherousness, and victoriously +self-justified in revenge." Needless to say, generalizations of this +sort, intruding upon the narrative at every turn, choke its progress +and prove distracting. + +Almost equally distracting is Meredith's predilection for resorting +to the methods of comedy while writing fiction. As W. C. Brownell +has put it; "The necessities of comedy, the irruption of new +characters, their disappearance after they have done their turn, +expectation balked by shifting situations, the frequent postponement +of the denouement when it particularly impends, and the alleviation +of impatience by a succession of subordinate climaxes--all the +machinery of the stage, in fact--impair the narrative." + + +III + +But if the tricks of the essayist and the playwright are freely +borrowed by Meredith, sometimes to his disadvantage and to ours, +they are nevertheless in a measure appropriate to the kind of +fiction he affects. For Meredith is a psychological novelist. He is +bent upon displaying the inward process of the mind. As Richard Le +Galliene has said of him: "The passion of his genius is ... the +tracing of the elemental in the complex; the registration of the +infinitesimal vibrations of first causes, the tracking in human life +of the shadowiest trail of primal instinct, the hairbreadth +measurement of subtle psychological tangents: and the embodiment of +these results in artistic form." Meredith, in _Richard Feverel_, +declares that for the novel "An audience will come to whom it will +be given to see the elementary machinery at work.... To them nothing +will be trivial.... They will see the links of things as they pass, +and wonder not, as foolish people now do, that this great matter +came out of that small one." Certainly Meredith's efforts have +tended to realize that time. But the psychology of his characters is +general rather than individual. You are conscious that these minds +are typical, or even symbolic. They belong to an imaginary and +rational world treated as though it were real. + +An incidental passage in _Beauchamp's Career_ shows that Meredith +has understood both his limitations and his peculiar ability. "My +way," he writes, "is like a Rhone island in the summer drought, +stony, unattractive, and difficult between the two forceful streams +of the unreal and the over-real which delight mankind--honour to the +conjurors! My people conquer nothing, win none! they are actual yet +uncommon. It is the clockwork of the brain that they are directed to +set in motion, and--poor troop of actors to vacant benches!--the +conscience residing in thoughtfulness which they would appeal to; +and if you are there impervious to them we are lost." + +In Meredith's novels, which indeed reveal in operation "the +clockwork of the brain," the author has taken care still further to +intellectualize his appeal by means of his style. His technic holds +attention; he is an artificer of style, and, as such, he writes a +style of artifice. He seeks to express himself with novelty and +distinction. If a boy runs, Meredith speaks of him as being seen to +bound "and taking a lift of arms, fly aloft, clapping heels." If a +woman runs, Meredith writes: "She was fleet; she ran as though a +hundred little feet were bearing her onward smooth as water over the +lawn and the sweeps of grass of the park, so swiftly did the hidden +pair multiply one another to speed her.... Suddenly her flight wound +to an end in a dozen twittering steps, and she sank." If a heroine +of eighteen would take leave of her admirer, she says: "We have met. +It is more than I have merited. We part. In mercy let it be forever. +Oh, terrible word! Coined by the passions of our youth, it comes to +us for our sole riches when we are bankrupt of earthly treasures, +and is the passport given by Abnegation unto Woe that prays to quit +this probationary sphere." + +Fancy any human being--least of all a girl--discoursing thus! But, +no matter how simple a thought or action, Meredith sends it forth +arrayed in finer gear than Solomon in all his glory. It is +beribboned with metaphor and personification; it is beflounced with +epigram and allegory. It is truth rendered more precious, as the +medieval critics advised, by being wrapped in sayings not to be +lightly understood by the vulgar. So, when a lover admires the +chasteness of his lady, Meredith remarks: "He saw the Goddess +Modesty guarding Purity; and one would be bold to say that he did +not hear the precepts, Purity's aged grannams maternal and paternal, +cawing approval of her over their munching gums." + +But Meredith's gift of phrase and his knack of knocking out +epigrams, and his mastery over metaphor and lyrical description +cannot be too highly commended. Diana is "wind-blown but ascending." +When Redworth sees her kindling a fire, "a little mouse of a thought +scampered out of one of the chambers of his head and darted along +the passages, fetching a sweat to his brows." After Sandra's +singing, the stillness settled back again "like one folding up a +precious jewel." A dull professor "pores over a little inexactitude +in phrases and pecks at it like a domestic fowl." Of one who has +ceased to love we hear that "the passion in her was like a place of +waves evaporated to a crust of salt." Of a lady's letter we learn +that it "flourished with light strokes all over, like a field of the +bearded barley." Of a heroine we are told that: "She was not of the +creatures who are excited by an atmosphere of excitement; she took +it as the nymph of the stream her native wave, and swam on the flood +with expansive languor, happy to have the master passions about her; +one or two of which her dainty hand caressed fearless of a sting; +the lady patted them as her swans." There is brilliant illumination +in such comparisons, a light shed instantaneously upon traits and +mental experiences otherwise not to be revealed. When the Egoist +would affectionately approach his shrinking Clara, nothing could +better deliver the situation than Meredith's simile: "The gulf of a +caress hove in view like an enormous billow hollowing under the +curled ridge. She stooped to a buttercup; the monster swept by." + +It is felicity in the use of rhetorical figure that enables Meredith +to characterize the style of a Carlyle as, "resembling either early +architecture or utter dilapidation, so loose and rough it seemed; a +wind-in-the-orchard style, that tumbled down here and there an +appreciable fruit with uncouth bluster; sentences without +commencement running to abrupt endings and smoke, like waves against +a sea wall, learned dictionary words giving a hand to street slang, +and accents falling on them haphazard, like slant rays from driving +clouds; all the pages in a breeze, the whole book producing a kind +of electrical agitation in the mind and the joints." It is +Meredith's gift for phrase that enables him to paint those wonderful +backgrounds for action which are the despair of common writers. +Sometimes the scenes are sketched in with but a touch or two of +suggestion. So, when Richard Feverel and Lucy spend an evening +afloat, Meredith writes: "Hanging between two heavens on the lake: +floating to her voice: the moon stepping over and through white +shoals of soft high clouds above and below: floating to her +voice--no other breath abroad! His soul went out of his body as he +listened." Or, when Richard, in gay company, passes a night at +Richmond, Meredith says simply: "Silver was seen far out on Thames. +The wine ebbed, and the laughter. Sentiment and cigars took up the +wondrous tale." + +Sometimes the description is long and minute, but always it is +beautifully fresh. Thus the coming of dawn is pictured in _The +Amazing Marriage_: "The smell of rock-waters and roots of herb and +moss grew keen; air became a wine that raised the breast high to +drink it; an uplifting coolness pervaded the heights.... The plumes +of cloud now slowly entered into the lofty arch of dawn and melted +from brown to purple black.... The armies of the young sunrise in +mountain-lands neighbouring the plains, vast shadows, were marching +over woods and meads, black against the edge of golden; and great +heights were cut with them, and bounding waters took the leap in a +silvery radiance to gloom; the bright and dark-banded valleys were +like night and morning taking hands down the sweep of their +rivers." + + +IV + +Meredith's style receives its final and distinctive flavor, however, +from the liberal dash of aphorism with which his books are +sprinkled. Often an epigram will turn upon some metaphor. Such is +the statement that: "A bone in a boy's mind for him to gnaw and +worry corrects the vagrancies and promotes the healthy activities, +whether there be marrow in it or not," or the exclamation: "Who are +not fools to be set spinning, if we choose to whip them with their +vanity! It is the consolation of the great to watch them spin." +Such, too, is the reflection that: "Most of the people one has at +table are drums. A rub-a-dub-dub on them is the only way to get a +sound. When they can be persuaded to do it upon one another, they +call it conversation." More frequently, the epigram is a neat +generalization left abstract, as for example: "Who rises from prayer +a better man, his prayer is answered"; "Cynics are only happy in +making the world as barren to others as they have made it for +themselves"; "Fools run jabbering of the irony of fate to escape the +annoyance of tracing the causes"; "Expediency is man's wisdom; doing +right is God's"; "Women cannot repose on a man who is not positive; +nor have they much gratification in confounding him"; "Convictions +are generally first impressions sealed with later prejudices"; "The +hero of two women must die and be wept over in common before they +can appreciate one another." + +A thousand such jewels glitter in the richly wrought tapestry of +Meredith's style. That he painstakingly inserted them and wove this +fabric to attract attention by its singularity and beauty, he +cheerfully admits in a passage of _Emilia in England_. "The point to +be considered," he there remarks, "is whether fiction demands a +perfectly smooth surface. Undoubtedly a scientific work does, and a +philosophical work should. When we ask for facts simply we feel the +intrusion of style. Of fiction it is a part. In the one case the +classical robe, in the other any medieval phantasy of clothing." + +The difficulty with a style so artificial and intellectualized is +obvious. Meredith, according to Brownell, "flatters one's cleverness +at first, but in the end he fatigues it." The perpetual crackle of +aphorism and metaphor surprises, gratifies, and then wearies; for a +writer who will never say a plain thing plainly, not only keeps his +readers under strain, but soon seems himself to be straining. +Nowhere is this more evident than in Meredith's predilection for +repeating a single happy phrase such as the epithet "rogue in +porcelain" applied to a heroine. Since the phrase tickles his fancy, +he plays with it, drops it, picks it up, mumbles it over and over as +a dog might a bone, and through chapter after chapter is ready at +any pretext to run round and round with it barking. Despite his +assiduous striving for novelty, therefore, Meredith is often +tedious, an effect induced, not merely by his style (whether +repetitious or gasping after eccentricity), but also by his method. +He is so intent upon weaving his commentary upon every speech and +action that the occasion of the commentary is smothered. A phrase +becomes the text of a sermon, a gesture the excuse for paragraphs of +oblique reflection. Thus he forfeits the advantage of downright +sincerity and of forthright progress, and teases interest out of all +patience. + + +V + +Since Meredith is an intellectualist, we naturally ask what may be +his philosophy. Unlike Ibsen or Browning, he preaches no doctrine. +He offers no explicit theory of life. Nor does he, like Dickens or +Reade or Brieux, advocate any special reform. He is never a +propagandist. Some have lamented this fact; more have seen in it an +argument for his universality and permanence. Though he fight no +battles for specific causes, his influence is arrayed in general +against certain tendencies that he disapproves and would laugh to +defeat. Egoism, sentimentalism, hypocrisy, are fair game for his +comedy. As an intellectualist he dislikes and distrusts excess of +emotion--feeling indulged for its own sake. "Sentimentalists," he +declares, "are they who seek to enjoy without incurring the immense +debtorship for a thing done." + +Well might Mrs. Carlyle complain that Meredith's work lacked tears. +That it does so he would be the first to admit, for he questions the +worth of pathos for any true captain of his soul. "Pathos is a tide; +often it carries the awakener of it off his feet," Meredith writes. +"We cannot quite preserve our dignity when we stoop to the work of +calling forth tears. Moses had probably to take a nimble jump away +from the rock after that venerable lawgiver had knocked the water +out of it." So Meredith sacrifices passion to analysis. His heroes +and heroines rarely love so simply and so ardently as do Richard and +Lucy; but the affection of even this delectable pair is modified in +presentation by the playful cynicism of the narrator of their story. +On the other hand, it is futile to cavil at Meredith or any other +artist for lacking such qualities as are incompatible with those he +most notably possesses. You cannot expect abandon of passion in the +characters of a novelist whose forte is detachment and sublimated +common sense. Your intellectualist is not to be blamed if he fails +to write as a sentimentalist. + +Meredith's positive philosophy has been formulated by Elmer J. +Bailey in terms that may be briefly paraphrased: Meredith thinks of +man as torn between Nature and Circumstance. By Nature is meant the +world of instinct, of healthy normal impulse. By Circumstance is +meant the world of artificial laws erected by society as the +machinery for its conduct and control. Nature is spontaneous; +Circumstance is traditional. Man may err by allowing to either undue +dominance. His only safety lies in the use of his reason which will +enable him to keep both Nature and Circumstance in proper equipoise. +And the most serviceable instrument of reason for detecting the +follies of convention or of feeling is the comic spirit. Without +this spirit we are not truly intellectual, for, as Meredith has +said: "Not to have a sympathy with the playful mind is not to have a +mind." Let us possess mind, he seems to urge, and through mind +cultivate the soul. In _The Tragic Comedians_ he remarks: "It is the +soul which does things in life--the rest is vapor.... Action means +life to the soul as to the body.... Compromise is virtual death; it +is the pact between cowardice and comfort, under the title of +expediency. So do we gather dead matter about us. So are we +gradually self-stifled, corrupt. The war with evil in every form +must be incessant; we cannot have peace." The serious note here +sounded may be heard again in his letter to a friend, Mrs. Gilman. +There Meredith says: "I have written always with the perception that +there is no life but of the spirit; that the concrete is the +shadowy; yet that the way to spiritual life lies in the complete +unfolding of the creature, not in the nipping of his passions. An +outrage to nature helps to extinguish his light." + + +VI + +Just such an outrage to nature perpetrated with the best intentions, +but in blind folly, is the subject of Meredith's novel, _The Ordeal +of Richard Feverel_. A dogmatic and conventional father endeavors to +determine his son's life according to an infallible system of +parental dictation. Instead of allowing the boy to develop naturally +from within, Sir Austin seeks to mould him absolutely from without. +The failure of this experiment makes the story. The first eleven +chapters are in a sense introductory. They present to the reader the +members of the Feverel family and describe with gusto a poaching +escapade of Richard's youth. From this first ordeal he emerges +triumphant by obeying the impulse of his heart to make frank +confession, despite his father's endeavor to patch up the matter by +plotting. Then, in the next twenty chapters, follows the account of +Richard's passion for the lovely Lucy and of the machinations of +those who would nip it in the bud. All these checks are for the +moment overcome when Richard, after having suffered separation from +Lucy, is again thrown with her by chance and impulsively marries +her. + +In the chapters next ensuing Sir Austin, instead of gracefully +accepting defeat, masks and crushes his emotions and permits his +Mephistophelian nephew, the cynical Adrian, to scheme for Richard's +alienation from his bride. Richard is lured away and succumbs to the +spell of a wicked enchantress whom at first he has thought to +reform; and then, shamed and distraught, he wanders abroad, seeking +a purge for his sin. Meanwhile, the deserted wife, at Adrian's +instigation, has been assailed by a villain, the husband of +Richard's enchantress. Issuing unscathed from her ordeal, Lucy is +tardily accepted by the complacent Sir Austin and received, with her +child, at his house. Since Richard has at length achieved +self-mastery and has resolved to return and confess to his wife, and +plead for her grace, a general reconciliation seems imminent. But +the novelist will not allow his tale to end happily lest its moral +be frustrate. Accordingly, although Richard returns for an hour to +be freely forgiven by Lucy, he dashes away forthwith, despite her +entreaties, to duel with her persecutor. Joy, even yet, might emerge +from disaster, since Richard escapes from the duel with only a +wound, but the author continues implacable. His heroine, in nursing +her husband, succumbs to a strain long protracted, and Richard, +though recovered in body, is left but a wreck of his former self. +Such is the desolating outcome of attempting to regulate healthy +human loves by a worldly system. + +What is tragic for hero and heroine is gravely comic to the eye of +the intellectualist surveying the folly of men from a height far +above the troubled waves of their passion. For Meredith, Sir Austin +incarnates a comic error. His story is the comedy of one who +theorizes at length upon life, but utterly fails to deal with it +practically. Of course Sir Austin takes no blame to himself. It is +useless, he reflects, "to base any system on a human being," even +though this is precisely what he has done. And when Richard is to +return to his wife, and Sir Austin has at last grown kind to her, we +hear that: "He could now admit that instinct had so far beaten +science; for, as Richard was coming, as all were to be happy, his +wisdom embraced them all paternally as the author of their +happiness." Of Sir Austin, Meredith remarks: "He had experimented on +humanity in the person of the son he loved as his life, and at once, +when the experiment appeared to have failed, all humanity's failings +fell on the shoulders of his son." The reader's inevitable reaction +to the novel is expressed by Lady Blandish: "Oh! how sick I am of +theories and systems and the pretensions of men!... I shall hate the +name of science till the day I die. Give me nothing but commonplace, +unpretending people!" + +That the plot of _Richard Feverel_ unduly tantalizes goes without +saying. The author keeps his hero and heroine apart by main force. +Granting that Richard is the victim of rascals, as well as of a +ridiculous system, his easy desertion of the wife whom he loves and +his continued separation from her seem to lie in Meredith's will +rather than in that of his hero. Richard's yielding to Mrs. Mount, +described with remarkable power, is more natural, but his mooning +about Germany while Lucy is left to struggle alone is as +exasperating as her failure to apprise him of the fact that she is +to bear him a child. Splendid as is the last meeting of Richard and +Lucy, declared by Stevenson to be "the strongest scene since +Shakespeare in the English tongue," it forfeits something of +greatness because of perversity. More natural is the faint sub-plot +intended to echo the central theme of the book in its story of +Clare's hopeless love for Richard, at first reciprocated, and then +blocked by Sir Austin and the girl's mother. + + +VII + +In characterization, this novel excels. Its folk are persons and not +alone types. Chief of the Feverel clan is Richard's father, Sir +Austin, wounded by the infidelity of his wife and his friend, yet an +intellectual egoist, proud of his plans for ruling the family and +equally proud of his epigrams. Given less fully are Richard's aunt, +the worldly mother of Clare, and his uncles--the guardsman Algernon, +who has lost a leg at cricket, and crochety Hippias, "the dyspepsy." +Of Richard's cousins one is sympathetic, and the other is Satanic. +The first, Austin Wentworth, lives in disgrace for having repaired a +youthful indiscretion by marrying a housemaid. As for the second, +Adrian Harley, "the Wise Youth," he is Richard's tutor, whose heart +has dropped to his stomach, a clever worldling and the contemner of +honest passion, one of the most accomplished cynics of all +literature. There are minor characters, too, but equally vital, from +blunt Farmer Blaize and his son, and the disgruntled farm-hand Tom +Bakewell, to Sir Austin's sentimental companion Lady Blandish, and +Ripton, the faithful old dog. + +Of the women three stand to the fore--Lucy, Mrs. Mount, and Mrs. +Berry. The adorable Lucy is a northern Juliet brought to sudden +maturity by her passion for Richard. Beneath him in birth, she is +more than his equal in manner and mind and spirit. Though shown only +in glimpses, she is never less than entrancing. Mrs. Mount is the +dashing temptress, a little worn and half-hearted until piqued by +Richard's indifference into playing her game more earnestly, and +then exerting all the fascinations of the wicked. Most original of +the three is Lucy's vulgar befriender, Mrs. Berry, a lovable +"old-black-satin bunch," as Meredith tags her, wise but irrelevant, +aware of the sensual springs beneath our polite pretenses, a +Juliet's nurse grown mellow. It is to be noted, however, that none +of these characters is really dynamic, unless it be Mrs. Doria +Forey, who suffers a change of heart after sacrificing that of her +daughter, and Richard who somewhat alters under the stress of his +ordeal. + +Subordinate to character, plot, and central idea, yet scarcely less +effective in producing the total effect of the novel, are its +setting, its style, and its author's point of view. Already +Meredith's point of view has been defined as that of the writer of +comedy. In the dinner scene at Richmond, for example, you are +conscious of the author smiling apart upon callow Richard and Ripton +caught in the snares of the demi-monde. It is Thackeray over again, +letting us see the self-deception of Pendennis in his admiration of +the Fotheringay. Sometimes, in this novel, Meredith apostrophizes +his people, emitting lyrical exclamations of admiration or disgust +at their conduct. More often, he remains aloof, though none the less +present in spirit. Rarely does he here conform to Brownell's +statement, more applicable to his later fictions, that: "He is not +merely detached, he is obliterated. All he shows us of himself is +his talent; his standpoint is to be divined." + +That which especially reveals the author's standpoint is what +Professor Saintsbury, in referring to this novel, has termed its +"style saturated with epigrammatic quality; and of strange ironic +persiflage permeating thought, picture, and expression." The +persiflage appears, above all, in the speeches of the saturnine +Adrian. As for the epigrams, their number is justified in part by +supposing them to come from Sir Austin's collection entitled "The +Pilgrim's Scrip." They abound, however, in the speech of others and +in the narrative proper. Typical spicings of style are the +following: "To anchor the heart by any object ere we have half +traversed the world is youth's foolishness"; "It is difficult for +those who think very earnestly for their children to know when their +children are thinking on their own account"; "If immeasurable love +were perfect wisdom, one human being might almost impersonate +Providence to another"; "The ways of women, which are involution, +and their practices, which are opposition, are generally best hit +upon by guesswork and a bold word"; "The God of this world is in the +machine, not out of it"; "Sentimentalism is a happy pastime and an +important science to the timid, the idle, and the heartless; but a +damning one to them who have anything to forfeit"; "The task of +reclaiming a bad man is extremely seductive to good women. Dear to +their tender hearts as old china is a bad man they are mending." +Even illiterate Mrs. Berry talks in epigram, now on checked +matrimony, which she holds to be as injurious as checked +perspiration, and now on the wickedness of old people, which, she +affirms, is the excuse for the wildness of young ones. "I think it's +always the plan in a 'dielemmer,'" she says, "to pray God and walk +forward." To Lucy, the bride, she gives this advice: "When the +parlour fire gets low, put coals on the kitchen fire.... Don't +neglect your cookery. Kissing don't last; cookery do." + +Aside from its aphorisms, the style of _Feverel_ is essentially +clever, but by no means so artificial as that of Meredith's later +novels. If a stage direction seem occasionally over-elaborate, as: +"Adrian gesticulated an acquiesced withdrawal," others are +felicitous, as: "At last Hippias perspired in conviction," or: "He +set his sight hard at the blue ridges of the hills," or, of Ripton +draining a bumper at a gulp: "The farthing rushlight of his reason +leapt and expired. He tumbled to the sofa and there stretched." +There are fine passages, too, of description, like those concerned +with the boyish adventures of Richard and Ripton, the Ferdinand and +Miranda meeting of hero and heroine, the temptation episode, and the +storm in the German forest by night. "Up started the whole forest in +violet fire. He saw the country at the foot of the hills to the +bounding Rhine gleam, quiver, extinguished.... Lower down the +abysses of air rolled the wrathful crash; then white thrusts of +light were darted from the sky, and great curving ferns, seen +steadfast in pallor a second, were supernaturally agitated and +vanished. Then a shrilling song roused in the leaves and the +herbage. Prolonged and louder it sounded, as deeper and heavier the +deluge pressed. A mighty force of water satisfied the desire of the +earth." Admirable, also, are the mere hints of background given in a +flashing phrase that conjures up the scene: "Look at those old elm +branches! How they seem to mix among the stars!--glittering prints +of winter." + +Taken all in all, _The Ordeal of Richard Feverel_ may be reckoned as +Meredith's masterpiece. "My old conviction grows stronger," writes Le +Galliene, "that it will be _Richard Feverel_ and perhaps no other of +his novels ... that will keep his name alive in English literature." +Certainly, Meredith has here allowed to his characters a charm of +personality that later he tends to sacrifice in stressing their purely +typical traits. He shows here a fire of sincerity rarely afterwards +burning so brightly. He is less the mere essayist and more the lyric +and dramatic tale-teller. He has set forth with skill the elements of +a large problem, confirming the truth of Chesterton's remark that he +combines subtlety with primal energy, and criticizes life without losing +his appetite for it. + + FRANK WADLEIGH CHANDLER. + UNIVERSITY OF CINCINNATI. + + + + +THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE INMATES OF RAYNHAM ABBEY + + +Some years ago a book was published under the title of "The +Pilgrim's Scrip." It consisted of a selection of original aphorisms +by an anonymous gentleman, who in this bashful manner gave a bruised +heart to the world. + +He made no pretension to novelty. "Our new thoughts have thrilled +dead bosoms," he wrote; by which avowal it may be seen that youth +had manifestly gone from him, since he had ceased to be jealous of +the ancients. There was a half-sigh floating through his pages for +those days of intellectual coxcombry, when ideas come to us +affecting the embraces of virgins, and swear to us they are ours +alone, and no one else have they ever visited: and we believe them. + +For an example of his ideas of the sex he said: + +"I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man." + +Some excitement was produced in the bosoms of ladies by so monstrous +a scorn of them. + +One adventurous person betook herself to the Heralds' College, and +there ascertained that a Griffin between two Wheatsheaves, which +stood on the title-page of the book, formed the crest of Sir Austin +Absworthy Bearne Feverel, Baronet, of Raynham Abbey, in a certain +Western county folding Thames: a man of wealth and honour, and a +somewhat lamentable history. + +The outline of the baronet's story was by no means new. He had a +wife, and he had a friend. His marriage was for love; his wife was +a beauty; his friend was a sort of poet. His wife had his whole +heart, and his friend all his confidence. When he selected Denzil +Somers from among his college chums, it was not on account of any +similarity of disposition between them, but from his intense worship +of genius, which made him overlook the absence of principle in his +associate for the sake of such brilliant promise. Denzil had a small +patrimony to lead off with, and that he dissipated before he left +college; henceforth he was dependent upon his admirer, with whom he +lived, filling a nominal post of bailiff to the estates, and +launching forth verse of some satiric and sentimental quality; for +being inclined to vice, and occasionally, and in a quiet way, +practising it, he was of course a sentimentalist and a satirist, +entitled to lash the Age and complain of human nature. His earlier +poems, published under the pseudonym of Diaper Sandoe, were so pure +and bloodless in their love passages, and at the same time so biting +in their moral tone, that his reputation was great among the +virtuous, who form the larger portion of the English book-buying +public. Election-seasons called him to ballad-poetry on behalf of +the Tory party. Diaper possessed undoubted fluency, but did little, +though Sir Austin was ever expecting much of him. + +A languishing, inexperienced woman, whose husband in mental and in +moral stature is more than the ordinary height above her, and who, +now that her first romantic admiration of his lofty bearing has worn +off; and her fretful little refinements of taste and sentiment are +not instinctively responded to, is thrown into no wholesome +household collision with a fluent man, fluent in prose and rhyme. +Lady Feverel, when she first entered on her duties at Raynham, was +jealous of her husband's friend. By degrees she tolerated him. In +time he touched his guitar in her chamber, and they played Rizzio +and Mary together. + + "For I am not the first who found + The name of Mary fatal!" + +says a subsequent sentimental alliterative love-poem of Diaper's. + +Such was the outline of the story. But the baronet could fill it +up. He had opened his soul to these two. He had been noble Love to +the one, and to the other perfect Friendship. He had bid them be +brother and sister whom he loved, and live a Golden Age with him at +Raynham. In fact, he had been prodigal of the excellences of his +nature, which it is not good to be, and, like Timon, he became +bankrupt, and fell upon bitterness. + +The faithless lady was of no particular family; an orphan daughter +of an admiral who educated her on his half-pay, and her conduct +struck but at the man whose name she bore. + +After five years of marriage, and twelve of friendship, Sir Austin +was left to his loneliness with nothing to ease his heart of love +upon save a little baby boy in a cradle. He forgave the man: he put +him aside as poor for his wrath. The woman he could not forgive; she +had sinned every way. Simple ingratitude to a benefactor was a +pardonable transgression, for he was not one to recount and crush +the culprit under the heap of his good deeds. But her he had raised +to be his equal, and he judged her as his equal. She had blackened +the world's fair aspect for him. + +In the presence of that world, so different to him now, he preserved +his wonted demeanour, and made his features a flexible mask. Mrs. +Doria Forey, his widowed sister, said that Austin might have retired +from his Parliamentary career for a time, and given up gaieties and +that kind of thing; her opinion, founded on observation of him in +public and private, was, that the light thing who had taken flight +was but a feather on her brother's Feverel-heart, and his ordinary +course of life would be resumed. There are times when common men +cannot bear the weight of just so much. Hippias Feverel, one of his +brothers, thought him immensely improved by his misfortune, if the +loss of such a person could be so designated; and seeing that +Hippias received in consequence free quarters at Raynham, and +possession of the wing of the Abbey she had inhabited, it is +profitable to know his thoughts. If the baronet had given two or +three blazing dinners in the great hall he would have deceived +people generally, as he did his relatives and intimates. He was too +sick for that: fit only for passive acting. + +The nurse-maid waking in the night beheld a solitary figure +darkening a lamp above her little sleeping charge, and became so +used to the sight as never to wake with a start. One night she was +strangely aroused by a sound of sobbing. The baronet stood beside +the cot in his long black cloak and travelling cap. His fingers +shaded a lamp, and reddened against the fitful darkness that ever +and anon went leaping up the wall. She could hardly believe her +senses to see the austere gentleman, dead silent, dropping tear upon +tear before her eyes. She lay stone-still in a trance of terror and +mournfulness, mechanically counting the tears as they fell, one by +one. The hidden face, the fall and flash of those heavy drops in the +light of the lamp he held, the upright, awful figure, agitated at +regular intervals like a piece of clockwork by the low murderous +catch of his breath: it was so piteous to her poor human nature that +her heart began wildly palpitating. Involuntarily the poor girl +cried out to him, "Oh, sir!" and fell a-weeping. Sir Austin turned +the lamp on her pillow, and harshly bade her go to sleep, striding +from the room forthwith. He dismissed her with a purse the next day. + +Once, when he was seven years old, the little fellow woke up at +night to see a lady bending over him. He talked of this the next +day, but it was treated as a dream; until in the course of the day +his uncle Algernon was driven home from Lobourne cricket-ground with +a broken leg. Then it was recollected that there was a family ghost; +and, though no member of the family believed in the ghost, none +would have given up a circumstance that testified to its existence; +for to possess a ghost is a distinction above titles. + +Algernon Feverel lost his leg, and ceased to be a gentleman in the +Guards. Of the other uncles of young Richard, Cuthbert, the sailor, +perished in a spirited boat expedition against a slaving negro chief +up the Niger. Some of the gallant lieutenant's trophies of war +decorated the little boy's play-shed at Raynham, and he bequeathed +his sword to Richard, whose hero he was. The diplomatist and beau, +Vivian, ended his flutterings from flower to flower by making an +improper marriage, as is the fate of many a beau, and was struck out +of the list of visitors. Algernon generally occupied the baronet's +disused town-house, a wretched being, dividing his time between +horse and card exercise: possessed, it was said, of the absurd +notion that a man who has lost his balance by losing his leg may +regain it by sticking to the bottle. At least, whenever he and his +brother Hippias got together, they never failed to try whether one +leg, or two, stood the bottle best. Much of a puritan as Sir Austin +was in his habits, he was too good a host, and too thorough a +gentleman, to impose them upon his guests. The brothers, and other +relatives, might do as they would while they did not disgrace the +name, and then it was final: they must depart to behold his +countenance no more. + +Algernon Feverel was a simple man, who felt, subsequent to his +misfortune, as he had perhaps dimly fancied it before, that his +career lay in his legs, and was now irrevocably cut short. He taught +the boy boxing, and shooting, and the arts of fence, and +superintended the direction of his animal vigour with a melancholy +vivacity. The remaining energies of Algernon's mind were devoted to +animadversions on swift bowling. He preached it over the county, +struggling through laborious literary compositions, addressed to +sporting newspapers, on the Decline of Cricket. It was Algernon who +witnessed and chronicled young Richard's first fight, which was with +young Tom Blaize of Belthorpe Farm, three years the boy's senior. + +Hippias Feverel was once thought to be the genius of the family. It +was his ill luck to have strong appetites and a weak stomach; and, +as one is not altogether fit for the battle of life who is engaged +in a perpetual contention with his dinner, Hippias forsook his +prospects at the Bar, and, in the embraces of dyspepsia, compiled +his ponderous work on the Fairy Mythology of Europe. He had little +to do with the Hope of Raynham beyond what he endured from his +juvenile tricks. + +A venerable lady, known as Great-Aunt Grantley, who had money to +bequeath to the heir, occupied with Hippias the background of the +house and shared her caudles with him. These two were seldom seen +till the dinner-hour, for which they were all day preparing; and +probably all night remembering, for the Eighteenth Century was an +admirable trencherman, and cast age aside while there was a dish on +the table. + +Mrs. Doria Forey was the eldest of the three sisters of the baronet, +a florid affable woman, with fine teeth, exceedingly fine light wavy +hair, a Norman nose, and a reputation for understanding men; and +that, with these practical creatures, always means the art of +managing them. She had married an expectant younger son of a good +family, who deceased before the fulfilment of his prospects; and, +casting about in her mind the future chances of her little daughter +and sole child, Clare, she marked down a probability. The far sight, +the deep determination, the resolute perseverance of her sex, where +a daughter is to be provided for and a man to be overthrown, +instigated her to invite herself to Raynham, where, with that +daughter, she fixed herself. + +The other two Feverel ladies were the wife of Colonel Wentworth and +the widow of Mr. Justice Harley: and the only thing remarkable about +them was that they were mothers of sons of some distinction. + +Austin Wentworth's story was of that wretched character which to be +comprehended, that justice should be dealt him, must be told out and +openly; which no one dares now do. + +For a fault in early youth, redeemed by him nobly, according to his +light, he was condemned to undergo the world's harsh judgment: not +for the fault--for its atonement. + +"--Married his mother's housemaid," whispered Mrs. Doria, with a +ghastly look, and a shudder at young men of republican sentiments, +which he was reputed to entertain. + +"The compensation for Injustice," says the "Pilgrim's Scrip," "is, +that in that dark Ordeal we gather the worthiest around us." + +And the baronet's fair friend, Lady Blandish, and some few true men +and women, held Austin Wentworth high. + +He did not live with his wife; and Sir Austin, whose mind was bent +on the future of our species, reproached him with being barren to +posterity, while knaves were propagating. + +The principal characteristic of the second nephew, Adrian Harley, +was his sagacity. He was essentially the wise youth, both in counsel +and in action. + +"In action," the "Pilgrim's Scrip" observes, "Wisdom goes by +majorities." + +Adrian had an instinct for the majority, and, as the world +invariably found him enlisted in its ranks, his appellation of wise +youth was acquiesced in without irony. + +The wise youth, then, had the world with him, but no friends. Nor +did he wish for those troublesome appendages of success. He caused +himself to be required by people who could serve him; feared by such +as could injure. Not that he went out of the way to secure his end, +or risked the expense of a plot. He did the work as easily as he ate +his daily bread. Adrian was an epicurean; one whom Epicurus would +have scourged out of his garden, certainly: an epicurean of our +modern notions. To satisfy his appetites without rashly staking his +character, was the wise youth's problem for life. He had no +intimates except Gibbon and Horace, and the society of these fine +aristocrats of literature helped him to accept humanity as it had +been, and was; a supreme ironic procession, with laughter of Gods in +the background. Why not laughter of mortals also? Adrian had his +laugh in his comfortable corner. He possessed peculiar attributes of +a heathen God. He was a disposer of men: he was polished, luxurious, +and happy--at their cost. He lived in eminent self-content, as one +lying on soft cloud, lapt in sunshine. Nor Jove, nor Apollo, cast +eye upon the maids of earth with cooler fire of selection, or +pursued them in the covert with more sacred impunity. And he enjoyed +his reputation for virtue as something additional. Stolen fruits are +said to be sweet; undeserved rewards are exquisite. + +The best of it was, that Adrian made no pretences. He did not +solicit the favourable judgment of the world. Nature and he +attempted no other concealment than the ordinary mask men wear. And +yet the world would proclaim him moral, as well as wise, and the +pleasing converse every way of his disgraced cousin Austin. + +In a word, Adrian Harley had mastered his philosophy at the early +age of one-and-twenty. Many would be glad to say the same at that +age twice-told: they carry in their breasts a burden with which +Adrian's was not loaded. Mrs. Doria was nearly right about his +heart. A singular mishap (at his birth, possibly, or before it) had +unseated that organ, and shaken it down to his stomach, where it was +a much lighter, nay, an inspiring weight, and encouraged him merrily +onward. Throned there it looked on little that did not arrive to +gratify it. Already that region was a trifle prominent in the person +of the wise youth, and carried, as it were, the flag of his +philosophical tenets in front of him. He was charming after dinner, +with men or with women: delightfully sarcastic: perhaps a little too +unscrupulous in his moral tone, but that his moral reputation belied +him, and it must be set down to generosity of disposition. + +Such was Adrian Harley, another of Sir Austin's intellectual +favourites, chosen from mankind to superintend the education of his +son at Raynham. Adrian had been destined for the Church. He did not +enter into Orders. He and the baronet had a conference together one +day, and from that time Adrian became a fixture in the Abbey. His +father died in his promising son's college term, bequeathing him +nothing but his legal complexion, and Adrian became stipendiary +officer in his uncle's household. + +A playfellow of Richard's occasionally, and the only comrade of his +age that he ever saw, was Master Ripton Thompson, the son of Sir +Austin's solicitor, a boy without a character. + +A comrade of some description was necessary, for Richard was neither +to go to school nor to college. Sir Austin considered that the +schools were corrupt, and maintained that young lads might by +parental vigilance be kept pretty secure from the Serpent until Eve +sided with him: a period that might be deferred, he said. He had a +system of education for his son. How it worked we shall see. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SHOWING HOW THE FATES SELECTED THE FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO TRY THE +STRENGTH OF THE SYSTEM + + +October shone royally on Richard's fourteenth birthday. The brown +beechwoods and golden birches glowed to a brilliant sun. Banks of +moveless cloud hung about the horizon, mounded to the west, where +slept the wind. Promise of a great day for Raynham, as it proved to +be, though not in the manner marked out. + +Already archery-booths and cricketing-tents were rising on the lower +grounds towards the river, whither the lads of Bursley and Lobourne, +in boats and in carts, shouting for a day of ale and honour, jogged +merrily to match themselves anew, and pluck at the living laurel +from each other's brows, like manly Britons. The whole park was +beginning to be astir and resound with holiday cries. Sir Austin +Feverel, a thorough good Tory, was no game-preserver, and could be +popular whenever he chose, which Sir Miles Papworth, on the other +side of the river, a fast-handed Whig and terror to poachers, never +could be. Half the village of Lobourne was seen trooping through the +avenues of the park. Fiddlers and gipsies clamoured at the gates for +admission; white smocks, and slate, surmounted by hats of serious +brim, and now and then a scarlet cloak, smacking of the old country, +dotted the grassy sweeps to the levels. + +And all the time the star of these festivities was receding further +and further, and eclipsing himself with his reluctant serf Ripton, +who kept asking what they were to do and where they were going, and +how late it was in the day, and suggesting that the lads of Lobourne +would be calling out for them, and Sir Austin requiring their +presence, without getting any attention paid to his misery or +remonstrances. For Richard had been requested by his father to +submit to medical examination like a boor enlisting for a soldier, +and he was in great wrath. + +He was flying as though he would have flown from the shameful +thought of what had been asked of him. By-and-by he communicated his +sentiments to Ripton, who said they were those of a girl: an +offensive remark, remembering which, Richard, after they had +borrowed a couple of guns at the bailiff's farm, and Ripton had +fired badly, called his friend a fool. + +Feeling that circumstances were making him look wonderfully like +one, Ripton lifted his head and retorted defiantly, "I'm not!" + +This angry contradiction, so very uncalled for, annoyed Richard, who +was still smarting at the loss of the birds, owing to Ripton's bad +shot, and was really the injured party. He therefore bestowed the +abusive epithet on Ripton anew, and with increase of emphasis. + +"You shan't call me so, then, whether I am or not," says Ripton, and +sucks his lips. + +This was becoming personal. Richard sent up his brows, and stared at +his defier an instant. He then informed him that he certainly should +call him so, and would not object to call him so twenty times. + +"Do it, and see!" returns Ripton, rocking on his feet, and breathing +quick. + +With a gravity of which only boys and other barbarians are capable, +Richard went through the entire number, stressing the epithet to +increase the defiance and avoid monotony, as he progressed, while +Ripton bobbed his head every time in assent, as it were, to his +comrade's accuracy, and as a record for his profound humiliation. +The dog they had with them gazed at the extraordinary performance +with interrogating wags of the tail. + +Twenty times, duly and deliberately, Richard repeated the obnoxious +word. + +At the twentieth solemn iteration of Ripton's capital shortcoming, +Ripton delivered a smart back-hander on Richard's mouth, and squared +precipitately; perhaps sorry when the deed was done, for he was a +kind-hearted lad, and as Richard simply bowed in acknowledgment of +the blow he thought he had gone too far. He did not know the young +gentleman he was dealing with. Richard was extremely cool. + +"Shall we fight here?" he said. + +"Anywhere you like," replied Ripton. + +"A little more into the wood, I think. We may be interrupted." And +Richard led the way with a courteous reserve that somewhat chilled +Ripton's ardour for the contest. On the skirts of the wood, Richard +threw off his jacket and waistcoat, and, quite collected, waited for +Ripton to do the same. The latter boy was flushed and restless; +older and broader, but not so tight-limbed and well-set. The Gods, +sole witnesses of their battle, betted dead against him. Richard had +mounted the white cockade of the Feverels, and there was a look in +him that asked for tough work to extinguish. His brows, slightly +lined upward at the temples, converging to a knot about the well-set +straight nose; his full grey eyes, open nostrils, and planted feet, +and a gentlemanly air of calm and alertness, formed a spirited +picture of a young combatant. As for Ripton, he was all abroad, and +fought in schoolboy style--that is, he rushed at the foe head +foremost, and struck like a windmill. He was a lumpy boy. When he +did hit, he made himself felt; but he was at the mercy of science. +To see him come dashing in, blinking and puffing and whirling his +arms abroad while the felling blow went straight between them, you +perceived that he was fighting a fight of desperation, and knew it. +For the dreaded alternative glared him in the face that, if he +yielded, he must look like what he had been twenty times +calumniously called; and he would die rather than yield, and swing +his windmill till he dropped. Poor boy! he dropped frequently. The +gallant fellow fought for appearances, and down he went. The Gods +favour one of two parties. Prince Turnus was a noble youth; but he +had not Pallas at his elbow. Ripton was a capital boy; he had no +science. He could not prove he was not a fool! When one comes to +think of it, Ripton did choose the only possible way, and we should +all of us have considerable difficulty in proving the negative by +any other. Ripton came on the unerring fist again and again; and if +it was true, as he said in short colloquial gasps, that he required +as much beating as an egg to be beaten thoroughly, a fortunate +interruption alone saved our friend from resembling that substance. +The boys heard summoning voices, and beheld Mr. Morton of Poer Hall +and Austin Wentworth stepping towards them. + +A truce was sounded, jackets were caught up, guns shouldered, and +off they trotted in concert through the depths of the wood, not +stopping till that and half-a-dozen fields and a larch plantation +were well behind them. + +When they halted to take breath, there was a mutual study of faces. +Ripton's was much discoloured, and looked fiercer with its natural +war-paint than the boy felt. Nevertheless, he squared up dauntlessly +on the new ground, and Richard, whose wrath was appeased, could not +refrain from asking him whether he had not really had enough. + +"Never!" shouts the noble enemy. + +"Well, look here," said Richard, appealing to common sense, "I'm +tired of knocking you down. I'll say you're not a fool, if you'll +give me your hand." + +Ripton demurred an instant to consult with honour, who bade him +catch at his chance. + +He held out his hand. "There!" and the boys grasped hands and were +fast friends. Ripton had gained his point, and Richard decidedly had +the best of it. So they were on equal ground. Both could claim a +victory, which was all the better for their friendship. + +Ripton washed his face and comforted his nose at a brook, and was +now ready to follow his friend wherever he chose to lead. They +continued to beat about for birds. The birds on the Raynham estates +were found singularly cunning, and repeatedly eluded the aim of +these prime shots, so they pushed their expedition into the lands of +their neighbours, in search of a stupider race, happily oblivious of +the laws and conditions of trespass; unconscious, too, that they +were poaching on the demesne of the notorious Farmer Blaize, the +free-trade farmer under the shield of the Papworths, no worshipper +of the Griffin between two Wheatsheaves; destined to be much allied +with Richard's fortunes from beginning to end. Farmer Blaize hated +poachers, and especially young chaps poaching, who did it mostly +from impudence. He heard the audacious shots popping right and left, +and going forth to have a glimpse at the intruders, and observing +their size, swore he would teach my gentlemen a thing, lords or no +lords. + +Richard had brought down a beautiful cock-pheasant, and was +exulting over it, when the farmer's portentous figure burst upon +them, cracking an avenging horsewhip. His salute was ironical. + +"Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?" + +"Just bagged a splendid bird!" radiant Richard informed him. + +"Oh!" Farmer Blaize gave an admonitory flick of the whip. + +"Just let me clap eye on't, then." + +"Say, please," interposed Ripton, who was not blind to doubtful +aspects. + +Farmer Blaize threw up his chin, and grinned grimly. + +"Please to you, sir? Why, my chap, you looks as if ye didn't much +mind what come t'yer nose, I reckon. You looks an old poacher, you +do. Tall ye what 'tis!" He changed his banter to business, "That +bird's mine! Now you jest hand him over, and sheer off, you dam +young scoundrels! I know ye!" And he became exceedingly opprobrious, +and uttered contempt of the name of Feverel. + +Richard opened his eyes. + +"If you wants to be horsewhipped, you'll stay where y'are!" +continued the farmer. "Giles Blaize never stands nonsense!" + +"Then we'll stay," quoth Richard. + +"Good! so be't! If you will have't, have't, my men!" + +As a preparatory measure, Farmer Blaize seized a wing of the bird, +on which both boys flung themselves desperately, and secured it +minus the pinion. + +"That's your game," cried the farmer. "Here's a taste of horsewhip +for ye. I never stands nonsense!" and sweetch went the mighty whip, +well swayed. The boys tried to close with him. He kept his distance +and lashed without mercy. Black blood was made by Farmer Blaize that +day! The boys wriggled, in spite of themselves. It was like a +relentless serpent coiling, and biting, and stinging their young +veins to madness. Probably they felt the disgrace of the contortions +they were made to go through more than the pain, but the pain was +fierce, for the farmer laid about from a practised arm, and did not +consider that he had done enough till he was well breathed and his +ruddy jowl inflamed. He paused, to receive the remainder of the +cock-pheasant in his face. + +"Take your beastly bird," cried Richard. + +"Money, my lads, and interest," roared the farmer, lashing out +again. + +Shameful as it was to retreat, there was but that course open to +them. They decided to surrender the field. + +"Look! you big brute," Richard shook his gun, hoarse with passion, +"I'd have shot you, if I'd been loaded. Mind! if I come across you +when I'm loaded, you coward, I'll fire!" + +The un-English nature of this threat exasperated Farmer Blaize, and +he pressed the pursuit in time to bestow a few farewell stripes as +they were escaping tight-breeched into neutral territory. At the +hedge they parleyed a minute, the farmer to inquire if they had had +a mortal good tanning and were satisfied, for when they wanted a +further instalment of the same they were to come for it to Belthorpe +Farm, and there it was in pickle: The boys meantime exploding in +menaces and threats of vengeance, on which the farmer contemptuously +turned his back. Ripton had already stocked an armful of flints for +the enjoyment of a little skirmishing. Richard, however, knocked +them all out, saying, "No! Gentlemen don't fling stones; leave that +to the blackguards." + +"Just one shy at him!" pleaded Ripton, with his eye on Farmer +Blaize's broad mark, and his whole mind drunken with a sudden +revelation of the advantages of light troops in opposition to +heavies. + +"No," said Richard, imperatively, "no stones," and marched briskly +away. Ripton followed with a sigh. His leader's magnanimity was +wholly beyond him. A good spanking mark at the farmer would have +relieved Master Ripton; it would have done nothing to console +Richard Feverel for the ignominy he had been compelled to submit to. +Ripton was familiar with the rod, a monster much despoiled of his +terrors by intimacy. Birch-fever was past with this boy. The +horrible sense of shame, self-loathing, universal hatred, impotent +vengeance, as if the spirit were steeped in abysmal blackness, which +comes upon a courageous and sensitive youth condemned for the first +time to taste this piece of fleshly bitterness, and suffer what he +feels is a defilement, Ripton had weathered and forgotten. He was +seasoned wood, and took the world pretty wisely; not reckless of +castigation, as some boys become, nor oversensitive as to dishonour, +as his friend and comrade beside him was. + +Richard's blood was poisoned. He had the fever on him severely. He +would not allow stone-flinging, because it was a habit of his to +discountenance it. Mere gentlemanly considerations had scarce +shielded Farmer Blaize, and certain very ungentlemanly schemes were +coming to ghastly heads in the tumult of his brain; rejected solely +from their glaring impracticability even to his young intelligence. +A sweeping and consummate vengeance for the indignity alone should +satisfy him. Something tremendous must be done, and done without +delay. At one moment he thought of killing all the farmer's cattle; +next of killing him; challenging him to single combat with the arms, +and according to the fashion of gentlemen. But the farmer was a +coward; he would refuse. Then he, Richard Feverel, would stand by +the farmer's bedside, and rouse him; rouse him to fight with powder +and ball in his own chamber, in the cowardly midnight, where he +might tremble, but dare not refuse. + +"Lord!" cried simple Ripton, while these hopeful plots were raging +in his comrade's brain, now sparkling for immediate execution, and +anon lapsing disdainfully dark in their chances of fulfilment, "how +I wish you'd have let me notch him, Ricky! I'm a safe shot. I never +miss. I should feel quite jolly if I'd spanked him once. We should +have had the best of him at that game. I say!" and a sharp thought +drew Ripton's ideas nearer home, "I wonder whether my nose is as bad +as he says! Where can I see myself?" + +To these exclamations Richard was deaf, and he trudged steadily +forward, facing but one object. + +After tearing through innumerable hedges, leaping fences, jumping +dykes, penetrating brambly copses, and getting dirty, ragged, and +tired, Ripton awoke from his dream of Farmer Blaize and a blue nose +to the vivid consciousness of hunger; and this grew with the +rapidity of light upon him, till in the course of another minute he +was enduring the extremes of famine, and ventured to question his +leader whither he was being conducted. Raynham was out of sight. +They were a long way down the valley, miles from Lobourne, in a +country of sour pools, yellow brooks, rank pasturage, desolate +heath. Solitary cows were seen; the smoke of a mud cottage; a cart +piled with peat; a donkey grazing at leisure, oblivious of an unkind +world; geese by a horse-pond, gabbling as in the first loneliness of +creation; uncooked things that a famishing boy cannot possibly care +for, and must despise. Ripton was in despair. + +"Where _are_ you going to?" he inquired with a voice of the last +time of asking, and halted resolutely. + +Richard now broke his silence to reply, "Anywhere." + +"Anywhere!" Ripton took up the moody word. "But ain't you awfully +hungry?" he gasped vehemently, in a way that showed the total +emptiness of his stomach. + +"No," was Richard's brief response. + +"Not hungry!" Ripton's amazement lent him increased vehemence. "Why, +you haven't had anything to eat since breakfast! Not hungry? I +declare I'm starving. I feel such a gnawing I could eat dry bread +and cheese!" + +Richard sneered: not for reasons that would have actuated a similar +demonstration of the philosopher. + +"Come," cried Ripton, "at all events, tell us where you're going to +stop." + +Richard faced about to make a querulous retort. The injured and +hapless visage that met his eye disarmed him. The lad's nose, though +not exactly of the dreaded hue, was really becoming discoloured. To +upbraid him would be cruel. Richard lifted his head, surveyed the +position, and exclaiming "Here!" dropped down on a withered bank, +leaving Ripton to contemplate him as a puzzle whose every new move +was a worse perplexity. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MAGIAN CONFLICT + + +Among boys there are laws of honour and chivalrous codes, not +written or formally taught, but intuitively understood by all, and +invariably acted upon by the loyal and the true. The race is not +nearly civilized, we must remember. Thus, not to follow your leader +whithersoever he may think proper to lead; to back out of an +expedition because the end of it frowns dubious, and the present +fruit of it is discomfort; to quit a comrade on the road, and return +home without him: these are tricks which no boy of spirit would be +guilty of, let him come to any description of mortal grief in +consequence. Better so than have his own conscience denouncing him +sneak. Some boys who behave boldly enough are not troubled by this +conscience, and the eyes and the lips of their fellows have to +supply the deficiency. They do it with just as haunting, and even +more horrible pertinacity, than the inner voice, and the result, if +the probation be not very severe and searching, is the same. The +leader can rely on the faithfulness of his host: the comrade is +sworn to serve. Master Ripton Thompson was naturally loyal. The idea +of turning off and forsaking his friend never once crossed his mind, +though his condition was desperate, and his friend's behaviour that +of a Bedlamite. He announced several times impatiently that they +would be too late for dinner. His friend did not budge. Dinner +seemed nothing to him. There he lay plucking grass, and patting the +old dog's nose, as if incapable of conceiving what a thing hunger +was. Ripton took half-a-dozen turns up and down, and at last flung +himself down beside the taciturn boy, accepting his fate. + +Now, the chance that works for certain purposes sent a smart shower +from the sinking sun, and the wet sent two strangers for shelter in +the lane behind the hedge where the boys reclined. One was a +travelling tinker, who lit a pipe and spread a tawny umbrella. The +other was a burly young countryman, pipeless and tentless. They +saluted with a nod, and began recounting for each other's benefit +the day-long doings of the weather, as it had affected their +individual experience and followed their prophecies. Both had +anticipated and foretold a bit of rain before night, and therefore +both welcomed the wet with satisfaction. A monotonous betweenwhiles +kind of talk they kept droning, in harmony with the still hum of the +air. From the weather theme they fell upon the blessings of tobacco; +how it was the poor man's friend, his company, his consolation, his +comfort, his refuge at night, his first thought in the morning. + +"Better than a wife!" chuckled the tinker. "No curtain-lecturin' +with a pipe. Your pipe an't a shrew." + +"That be it!" the other chimed in. "Your pipe doan't mak' ye out wi' +all the cash Saturday evenin'." + +"Take one," said the tinker, in the enthusiasm of the moment, +handing a grimy short clay. Speed-the-Plough filled from the +tinker's pouch, and continued his praises. + +"Penny a day, and there y'are, primed! Better than a wife? Ha, ha!" + +"And you can get rid of it, if ye wants for to, and when ye wants," +added tinker. + +"So ye can!" Speed-the-Plough took him up. "And ye doan't want for +to. Leastways, t'other case. I means pipe." + +"And," continued tinker, comprehending him perfectly, "it don't +bring repentance after it." + +"Not nohow, master, it doan't! And"--Speed-the-Plough cocked his +eye--"it doan't eat up half the victuals, your pipe doan't." + +Here the honest yeoman gesticulated his keen sense of a clincher, +which the tinker acknowledged; and having, so to speak, sealed up +the subject by saying the best thing that could be said, the two +smoked for some time in silence to the drip and patter of the +shower. + +Ripton solaced his wretchedness by watching them through the briar +hedge. He saw the tinker stroking a white cat, and appealing to her, +every now and then, as his missus, for an opinion or a confirmation; +and he thought that a curious sight. Speed-the-Plough was stretched +at full length, with his boots in the rain, and his head amidst the +tinker's pots, smoking, profoundly contemplative. The minutes seemed +to be taken up alternately by the grey puffs from their mouths. + +It was the tinker who renewed the colloquy. Said he, "Times is bad!" + +His companion assented, "Sure-ly!" + +"But it somehow comes round right," resumed the tinker. "Why, look +here. Where's the good o' moping? I sees it all come round right and +tight. Now I travels about. I've got my beat. 'Casion calls me +t'other day to Newcastle!--Eh?" + +"Coals!" ejaculated Speed-the-Plough sonorously. + +"Coals!" echoed the tinker. "You ask what I goes there for, mayhap? +Never you mind. One sees a mort o' life in my trade. Not for coals +it isn't. And I don't carry 'em there, neither. Anyhow, I comes +back. London's my mark. Says I, I'll see a bit o' the sea, and steps +aboard a collier. We were as nigh wrecked as the prophet Paul." + +"--A--who's him?" the other wished to know. + +"Read your Bible," said the tinker. "We pitched and tossed--'tain't +that game at sea 'tis on land, I can tell ye! I thinks, down we're +a-going--say your prayers, Bob Tiles! That was a night, to be sure! +But God's above the devil, and here I am, ye see." + +Speed-the-Plough lurched round on his elbow and regarded him +indifferently. "D'ye call that doctrin'? He bean't al'ays, or I +shoo'n't be scrapin' my heels wi' nothin' to do, and, what's warse, +nothin' to eat. Why, look heer. Luck's luck, and bad luck's the +contrary. Varmer Bollop, t'other day, has's rick burnt down. Next +night his gran'ry's burnt. What do he tak' and go and do? He takes +and goes and hangs unsel', and turns us out of his employ. God +warn't above the devil then, I thinks, or I can't make out the +reckonin'." + +The tinker cleared his throat, and said it was a bad case. + +"And a darn'd bad case. I'll tak' my oath on't!" cried +Speed-the-Plough. "Well, look heer! Heer's another darn'd bad case. +I threshed for Varmer Blaize--Blaize o' Beltharpe--afore I goes to +Varmer Bollop. Varmer Blaize misses pilkins. He swears our chaps +steals pilkins. 'Twarn't me steals 'em. What do _he_ tak' and go and +do? He takes and tarns us off, me and another, neck and crop, to +scuffle about and starve, for all _he_ keers. God warn't above the +devil then, I thinks. Not nohow, as I can see!" + +The tinker shook his head, and said that was a bad case also. + +"And you can't mend it," added Speed-the-Plough. "It's bad, and +there it be. But I'll tell ye what, master. Bad wants payin' for." +He nodded and winked mysteriously. "Bad has its wages as well's +honest work, I'm thinkin'. Varmer Bollop I don't owe no grudge to: +Varmer Blaize I do. And I shud like to stick a Lucifer in his rick +some dry windy night." Speed-the-Plough screwed up an eye +villainously. "He wants hittin' in the wind,--jest where the pocket +is, master, do Varmer Blaize, and he'll cry out 'O Lor'!' Varmer +Blaize will. You won't get the better o' Varmer Blaize by no means, +as I makes out, if ye doan't hit into him jest there." + +The tinker sent a rapid succession of white clouds from his mouth, +and said that would be taking the devil's side of a bad case. +Speed-the-Plough observed energetically that, if Farmer Blaize was +on the other, he should be on that side. + +There was a young gentleman close by, who thought with him. The hope +of Raynham had lent a careless half-compelled attention to the +foregoing dialogue, wherein a common labourer and a travelling +tinker had propounded and discussed one of the most ancient theories +of transmundane dominion and influence on mundane affairs. He now +started to his feet, and came tearing through the briar hedge, +calling out for one of them to direct them the nearest road to +Bursley. The tinker was kindling preparations for his tea, under the +tawny umbrella. A loaf was set forth, on which Ripton's eyes, stuck +in the hedge, fastened ravenously. Speed-the-Plough volunteered +information that Bursley was a good three mile from where they +stood, and a good eight mile from Lobourne. + +"I'll give you half-a-crown for that loaf, my good fellow," said +Richard to the tinker. + +"It's a bargain," quoth the tinker, "eh, missus?" + +His cat replied by humping her back at the dog. + +The half-crown was tossed down, and Ripton, who had just succeeded +in freeing his limbs from the briar, prickly as a hedgehog, collared +the loaf. + +"Those young squires be sharp-set, and no mistake," said the tinker +to his companion. "Come! we'll to Bursley after 'em, and talk it out +over a pot o' beer." Speed-the-Plough was nothing loath, and in a +short time they were following the two lads on the road to Bursley, +while a horizontal blaze shot across the autumn land from the +Western edge of the rain-cloud. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ARSON + + +Search for the missing boys had been made everywhere over Raynham, +and Sir Austin was in grievous discontent. None had seen them save +Austin Wentworth and Mr. Morton. The baronet sat construing their +account of the flight of the lads when they were hailed, and +resolved it into an act of rebellion on the part of his son. At +dinner he drank the young heir's health in ominous silence. Adrian +Harley stood up in his place to propose the health. His speech was a +fine piece of rhetoric. He warmed in it till, after the Ciceronic +model, inanimate objects were personified, and Richard's +table-napkin and vacant chair were invoked to follow the steps of a +peerless father, and uphold with his dignity the honour of the +Feverels. Austin Wentworth, whom a soldier's death compelled to take +his father's place in support of the toast, was tame after such +magniloquence. But the reply, the thanks which young Richard should +have delivered in person were not forthcoming. Adrian's oratory had +given but a momentary life to napkin and chair. The company of +honoured friends, and aunts, and uncles, and remotest cousins, were +glad to disperse and seek amusement in music and tea. Sir Austin did +his utmost to be hospitably cheerful, and requested them to dance. +If he had desired them to laugh he would have been obeyed, and in as +hearty a manner. + +"How triste!" said Mrs. Doria Forey to Lobourne's curate, as that +most enamoured automaton went through his paces beside her with +professional stiffness. + +"One who does not suffer can hardly assent," the curate answered, +basking in her beams. + +"Ah, you are good!" exclaimed the lady. "Look at my Clare. She will +not dance on her cousin's birthday with any one but him. What are we +to do to enliven these people?" + +"Alas, madam! you cannot do for all what you do for one," the +curate sighed, and wherever she wandered in discourse, drew her back +with silken strings to gaze on his enamoured soul. + +He was the only gratified stranger present. The others had designs +on the young heir. Lady Attenbury of Longford House had brought her +highly-polished specimen of marketware, the Lady Juliana Jaye, for a +first introduction to him, thinking he had arrived at an age to +estimate and pine for her black eyes and pretty pert mouth. The Lady +Juliana had to pair off with a dapper Papworth, and her mama was +subjected to the gallantries of Sir Miles, who talked land and +steam-engines to her till she was sick, and had to be impertinent in +self-defence. Lady Blandish, the delightful widow, sat apart with +Adrian, and enjoyed his sarcasms on the company. By ten at night the +poor show ended, and the rooms were dark, dark as the prognostics +multitudinously hinted by the disappointed and chilled guests +concerning the probable future of the hope of Raynham. Little Clare +kissed her mama, curtsied to the lingering curate, and went to bed +like a very good girl. Immediately the maid had departed, little +Clare deliberately exchanged night attire for that of day. She was +noted as an obedient child. Her light was always allowed to burn in +her room for half-an-hour, to counteract her fears of the dark. She +took the light, and stole on tiptoe to Richard's room. No Richard +was there. She peeped in further and further. A trifling agitation +of the curtains shot her back through the door and along the passage +to her own bedchamber with extreme expedition. She was not much +alarmed, but feeling guilty she was on her guard. In a short time +she was prowling about the passages again. Richard had slighted and +offended the little lady, and was to be asked whether he did not +repent such conduct toward his cousin; not to be asked whether he +had forgotten to receive his birthday kiss from her; for, if he did +not choose to remember that, Miss Clare would never remind him of +it, and to-night should be his last chance of a reconciliation. Thus +she meditated, sitting on a stair, and presently heard Richard's +voice below in the hall, shouting for supper. + +"Master Richard has returned," old Benson the butler tolled out +intelligence to Sir Austin. + +"Well?" said the baronet. + +"He complains of being hungry," the butler hesitated, with a look of +solemn disgust. + +"Let him eat." + +Heavy Benson hesitated still more as he announced that the boy had +called for wine. It was an unprecedented thing. Sir Austin's brows +were portending an arch, but Adrian suggested that he wanted +possibly to drink his birthday, and claret was conceded. + +The boys were in the vortex of a partridge-pie when Adrian strolled +in to them. They had now changed characters. Richard was uproarious. +He drank a health with every glass; his cheeks were flushed and his +eyes brilliant. Ripton looked very much like a rogue on the tremble +of detection, but his honest hunger and the partridge-pie shielded +him awhile from Adrian's scrutinizing glance. Adrian saw there was +matter for study, if it were only on Master Ripton's betraying nose, +and sat down to hear and mark. + +"Good sport, gentlemen, I trust to hear?" he began his quiet banter, +and provoked a loud peal of laughter from Richard. + +"Ha, ha! I say, Rip: 'Havin' good sport, gentlemen, are ye?' You +remember the farmer! Your health, parson! We haven't had our sport +yet. We're going to have some first-rate sport. Oh, well! we haven't +much show of birds. We shot for pleasure, and returned them to the +proprietors. You're fond of game, parson! Ripton is a dead shot in +what Cousin Austin calls the Kingdom of 'would-have-done' and +'might-have-been.' Up went the birds, and cries Rip, 'I've forgotten +to load!' Oh, ho!--Rip! some more claret--Do just leave that nose of +yours alone.--Your health, Ripton Thompson! The birds hadn't the +decency to wait for him, and so, parson, it's their fault, and not +Rip's, you haven't a dozen brace at your feet. What have you been +doing at home, Cousin Rady?" + +"Playing Hamlet, in the absence of the Prince of Denmark. The day +without you, my dear boy, must be dull, you know." + + "'He speaks: can I trust what he says is sincere? + There's an edge to his smile that cuts much like a sneer.' + +Sandoe's poems! You know the couplet, Mr. Rady. Why shouldn't I +quote Sandoe? You know you like him, Rady. But, if you've missed me, +I'm sorry. Rip and I have had a beautiful day. We've made new +acquaintances. We've seen the world. I'm the monkey that has seen +the world, and I'm going to tell you all about it. First, there's a +gentleman who takes a rifle for a fowling-piece. Next, there's a +farmer who warns everybody, gentleman and beggar, off his premises. +Next, there's a tinker and a ploughman, who think that God is always +fighting with the devil which shall command the kingdoms of the +earth. The tinker's for God, and the ploughman"---- + +"I'll drink your health, Ricky," said Adrian, interrupting. + +"Oh, I forgot, parson;--I mean no harm, Adrian. I'm only telling +what I've heard." + +"No harm, my dear boy," returned Adrian. "I'm perfectly aware that +Zoroaster is not dead. You have been listening to a common creed. +Drink the Fire-worshippers, if you will." + +"Here's to Zoroaster, then!" cried Richard. "I say, Rippy! we'll +drink the Fire-worshippers to-night, won't we?" + +A fearful conspiratorial frown, that would not have disgraced Guido +Fawkes, was darted back from the plastic features of Master Ripton. + +Richard gave his lungs loud play. + +"Why, what did you say about Blaizes, Rippy? Didn't you say it was +fun?" + +Another hideous and silencing frown was Ripton's answer. Adrian +watched the innocent youths, and knew that there was talking under +the table. "See," thought he, "this boy has tasted his first scraggy +morsel of life to-day, and already he talks like an old stager, and +has, if I mistake not, been acting too. My respected chief," he +apostrophized Sir Austin, "combustibles are only the more dangerous +for compression. This boy will be ravenous for Earth when he is let +loose, and very soon make his share of it look as foolish as yonder +game-pie!"--a prophecy Adrian kept to himself. + +Uncle Algernon shambled in to see his nephew before the supper was +finished, and his more genial presence brought out a little of the +plot. + +"Look here, uncle!" said Richard. "Would you let a churlish old +brute of a farmer strike you without making him suffer for it?" + +"I fancy I should return the compliment, my lad," replied his uncle. + +"Of course you would! So would I. And he shall suffer for it." The +boy looked savage, and his uncle patted him down. + +"I've boxed his son; I'll box him," said Richard, shouting for more +wine. + +"What, boy! Is it old Blaize has been putting you up?" + +"Never mind, uncle!" The boy nodded mysteriously. + +Look there! Adrian read on Ripton's face, he says "never mind," and +lets it out! + +"Did we beat to-day, uncle?" + +"Yes, boy; and we'd beat them any day they bowl fair. I'd beat them +on one leg. There's only Natkins and Featherdene among them worth a +farthing." + +"We beat!" cries Richard. "Then we'll have some more wine, and drink +their healths." + +The bell was rung; wine ordered. Presently comes in heavy Benson, to +say supplies are cut off. One bottle, and no more. The Captain +whistled; Adrian shrugged. + +The bottle, however, was procured by Adrian subsequently. He liked +studying intoxicated urchins. + +One subject was at Richard's heart, about which he was reserved in +the midst of his riot. Too proud to inquire how his father had taken +his absence, he burned to hear whether he was in disgrace. He led to +it repeatedly, and it was constantly evaded by Algernon and Adrian. +At last, when the boy declared a desire to wish his father +good-night, Adrian had to tell him that he was to go straight to bed +from the supper-table. Young Richard's face fell at that, and his +gaiety forsook him. He marched to his room without another word. + +Adrian gave Sir Austin an able version of his son's behaviour and +adventures; dwelling upon this sudden taciturnity when he heard of +his father's resolution not to see him. The wise youth saw that his +chief was mollified behind his moveless mask, and went to bed, and +Horace, leaving Sir Austin in his study. Long hours the baronet sat +alone. The house had not its usual influx of Feverels that day. +Austin Wentworth was staying at Poer Hall, and had only come over +for an hour. At midnight the house breathed sleep. Sir Austin put on +his cloak and cap, and took the lamp to make his rounds. He +apprehended nothing special, but with a mind never at rest he +constituted himself the sentinel of Raynham. He passed the chamber +where the Great-Aunt Grantley lay, who was to swell Richard's +fortune, and so perform her chief business on earth. By her door he +murmured, "Good creature! you sleep with a sense of duty done," and +paced on, reflecting, "She has not made money a demon of discord," +and blessed her. He had his thoughts at Hippias's somnolent door, +and to them the world might have subscribed. + +A monomaniac at large, watching over sane people in slumber! thinks +Adrian Harley, as he hears Sir Austin's footfall, and truly that was +a strange object to see.--Where is the fortress that has not one +weak gate? where the man who is sound at each particular angle? Ay, +meditates the recumbent cynic, more or less mad is not every +mother's son? Favourable circumstances--good air, good company, two +or three good rules rigidly adhered to--keep the world out of +Bedlam. But, let the world fly into a passion, and is not Bedlam the +safest abode for it? + +Sir Austin ascended the stairs, and bent his steps leisurely toward +the chamber where his son was lying in the left wing of the Abbey. +At the end of the gallery which led to it he discovered a dim light. +Doubting it an illusion, Sir Austin accelerated his pace. This wing +had aforetime a bad character. Notwithstanding what years had done +to polish it into fair repute, the Raynham kitchen stuck to +tradition, and preserved certain stories of ghosts seen there, that +effectually blackened it in the susceptible minds of new housemaids +and under-cooks, whose fears would not allow the sinner to wash his +sins. Sir Austin had heard of the tales circulated by his domestics +underground. He cherished his own belief, but discouraged theirs, +and it was treason at Raynham to be caught traducing the left wing. +As the baronet advanced, the fact of a light burning was clear to +him. A slight descent brought him into the passage, and he beheld a +poor human candle standing outside his son's chamber. At the same +moment a door closed hastily. He entered Richard's room. The boy was +absent. The bed was unpressed: no clothes about: nothing to show +that he had been there that night. Sir Austin felt vaguely +apprehensive. Has he gone to my room to await me? thought the +father's heart. Something like a tear quivered in his arid eyes as +he meditated and hoped this might be so. His own sleeping-room faced +that of his son. He strode to it with a quick heart. It was empty. +Alarm dislodged anger from his jealous heart, and dread of evil put +a thousand questions to him that were answered in air. After pacing +up and down his room he determined to go and ask the boy Thompson, +as he called Ripton, what was known to him. + +The chamber assigned to Master Ripton Thompson was at the northern +extremity of the passage, and overlooked Lobourne and the valley to +the West. The bed stood between the window and the door. Sir Austin +found the door ajar, and the interior dark. To his surprise, the boy +Thompson's couch, as revealed by the rays of his lamp, was likewise +vacant. He was turning back when he fancied he heard the sibilation +of a whispering in the room. Sir Austin cloaked the lamp and trod +silently toward the window. The heads of his son Richard and the boy +Thompson were seen crouched against the glass, holding excited +converse together. Sir Austin listened, but he listened to a +language of which he possessed not the key. Their talk was of fire, +and of delay: of expected agrarian astonishment: of a farmer's huge +wrath: of violence exercised upon gentlemen, and of vengeance: talk +that the boys jerked out by fits, and that came as broken links of a +chain impossible to connect. But they awoke curiosity. The baronet +condescended to play the spy upon his son. + +Over Lobourne and the valley lay black night and innumerable stars. + +"How jolly I feel!" exclaimed Ripton, inspired by claret; and then, +after a luxurious pause--"I think that fellow has pocketed his +guinea, and cut his lucky." + +Richard allowed a long minute to pass, during which the baronet +waited anxiously for his voice, hardly recognizing it when he heard +its altered tones. + +"If he has, I'll go; and I'll do it myself." + +"You would?" returned Master Ripton. "Well, I'm hanged!--I say, if +you went to school, wouldn't you get into rows! Perhaps he hasn't +found the place where the box was stuck in. I think he funks it. I +almost wish you hadn't done it, upon my honour--eh? Look there! what +was that? That looked like something.--I say! do you think we shall +ever be found out?" + +Master Ripton intoned this abrupt interrogation very seriously. + +"I don't think about it," said Richard, all his faculties bent on +signs from Lobourne. + +"Well, but," Ripton persisted, "suppose we are found out?" + +"If we are, I must pay for it." + +Sir Austin breathed the better for this reply. He was beginning to +gather a clue to the dialogue. His son was engaged in a plot, and +was, moreover, the leader of the plot. He listened for further +enlightenment. + +"What was the fellow's name?" inquired Ripton. + +His companion answered, "Tom Bakewell." + +"I'll tell you what," continued Ripton. "You let it all clean out to +your cousin and uncle at supper. How capital claret is with +partridge-pie! What a lot I ate!--Didn't you see me frown?" + +The young sensualist was in an ecstasy of gratitude to his late +refection, and the slightest word recalled him to it. Richard +answered him-- + +"Yes; and felt your kick. It doesn't matter. Rady's safe, and uncle +never blabs." + +"Well, my plan is to keep it close. You're never safe if you +don't.--I never drank much claret before," Ripton was off again. +"Won't I now, though! claret's my wine. You know, it may come out +any day, and then we're done for," he rather incongruously appended. + +Richard only took up the business-thread of his friend's rambling +chatter, and answered-- + +"You've got nothing to do with it, if we are." + +"Haven't I, though! I didn't stick in the box, but I'm an +accomplice, that's clear. Besides," added Ripton, "do you think I +should leave you to bear it all on your shoulders? I ain't that sort +of chap, Ricky, I can tell you." + +Sir Austin thought more highly of the boy Thompson. Still it looked +a detestable conspiracy, and the altered manner of his son impressed +him strangely. He was not the boy of yesterday. To Sir Austin it +seemed as if a gulf had suddenly opened between them. The boy had +embarked, and was on the waters of life in his own vessel. It was as +vain to call him back as to attempt to erase what Time has written +with the Judgment Blood! This child, for whom he had prayed nightly +in such a fervour and humbleness to God, the dangers were about him, +the temptations thick on him, and the devil on board piloting. If a +day had done so much, what would years do? Were prayers and all the +watchfulness he had expended of no avail? + +A sensation of infinite melancholy overcame the poor gentleman--a +thought that he was fighting with a fate in this beloved boy. + +He was half disposed to arrest the two conspirators on the spot, and +make them confess, and absolve themselves; but it seemed to him +better to keep an unseen eye over his son: Sir Austin's old system +prevailed. + +Adrian characterized this system well, in saying that Sir Austin +wished to be Providence to his son. + +If immeasurable love were perfect wisdom, one human being might +almost impersonate Providence to another. Alas! love, divine as it +is, can do no more than lighten the house it inhabits--must take its +shape, sometimes intensify its narrowness--can spiritualize, but not +expel, the old life-long lodgers above-stairs and below. + +Sir Austin decided to continue quiescent. + +The valley still lay black beneath the large autumnal stars, and the +exclamations of the boys were becoming fevered and impatient. +By-and-by one insisted that he had seen a twinkle. The direction he +gave was out of their anticipations. Again the twinkle was +announced. Both boys started to their feet. It was a twinkle in the +right direction now. + +"He's done it!" cried Richard, in great heat. "Now you may say old +Blaize'll soon be old Blazes, Rip. I hope he's asleep." + +"I'm sure he's snoring!--Look there! He's alight fast enough. He's +dry. He'll burn.--I say," Ripton re-assumed the serious intonation, +"do you think they'll ever suspect us?" + +"What if they do? We must brunt it." + +"Of course we will. But, I say! I wish you hadn't given them the +scent, though. I like to look innocent. I can't when I know people +suspect me. Lord! look there! Isn't it just beginning to flare up!" + +The farmer's grounds were indeed gradually standing out in sombre +shadows. + +"I'll fetch my telescope," said Richard. Ripton, somehow not liking +to be left alone, caught hold of him. + +"No; don't go and lose the best of it. Here, I'll throw open the +window, and we can see." + +The window was flung open, and the boys instantly stretched half +their bodies out of it; Ripton appearing to devour the rising flames +with his mouth: Richard with his eyes. + +Opaque and statuesque stood the figure of the baronet behind them. +The wind was low. Dense masses of smoke hung amid the darting snakes +of fire, and a red malign light was on the neighbouring leafage. No +figures could be seen. Apparently the flames had nothing to contend +against, for they were making terrible strides into the darkness. + +"Oh!" shouted Richard, overcome by excitement, "if I had my +telescope! We must have it! Let me go and fetch it! I will!" + +The boys struggled together, and Sir Austin stepped back. As he did +so, a cry was heard in the passage. He hurried out, closed the +chamber, and came upon little Clare lying senseless along the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ADRIAN PLIES HIS HOOK + + +In the morning that followed this night, great gossip was +interchanged between Raynham and Lobourne. The village told how +Farmer Blaize, of Belthorpe Farm, had his rick feloniously set fire +to; his stables had caught fire, himself had been all but roasted +alive in the attempt to rescue his cattle, of which numbers had +perished in the flames. Raynham counterbalanced arson with an +authentic ghost seen by Miss Clare in the left wing of the +Abbey--the ghost of a lady, dressed in deep mourning, a scar on her +forehead, and a bloody handkerchief at her breast, frightful to +behold! and no wonder the child was frightened out of her wits, and +lay in a desperate State awaiting the arrival of the London doctors. +It was added that the servants had all threatened to leave in a +body, and that Sir Austin to appease them had promised to pull down +the entire left wing, like a gentleman; for no decent creature, said +Lobourne, could consent to live in a haunted house. + +Rumour for the nonce had a stronger spice of truth than usual. Poor +little Clare lay ill, and the calamity that had befallen Farmer +Blaize, as regards his rick, was not much exaggerated. Sir Austin +caused an account of it to be given him at breakfast, and appeared +so scrupulously anxious to hear the exact extent of injury sustained +by the farmer that heavy Benson went down to inspect the scene. Mr. +Benson returned, and, acting under Adrian's malicious advice, framed +a formal report of the catastrophe, in which the farmer's breeches +figured, and certain cooling applications to a part of the farmer's +person. Sir Austin perused it without a smile. He took occasion to +have it read out before the two boys, who listened very demurely, as +to an ordinary newspaper incident; only when the report +particularized the garments damaged, and the unwonted distressing +position Farmer Blaize was reduced to in his bed, an indecorous fit +of sneezing laid hold of Master Ripton Thompson, and Richard bit his +lip and burst into loud laughter, Ripton joining him, lost to +consequences. + +"I trust you feel for this poor man," said Sir Austin to his son, +somewhat sternly. He saw no sign of feeling. + +It was a difficult task for Sir Austin to keep his old countenance +toward the hope of Raynham, knowing him the accomplice-incendiary, +and believing the deed to have been unprovoked and wanton. But he +must do so, he knew, to let the boy have a fair trial against +himself. Be it said, moreover, that the baronet's possession of his +son's secret flattered him. It allowed him to act, and in a measure +to feel, like Providence; enabled him to observe and provide for the +movements of creatures in the dark. He therefore treated the boy as +he commonly did, and Richard saw no change in his father to make him +think he was suspected. + +The youngster's game was not so easy against Adrian. Adrian did not +shoot or fish. Voluntarily he did nothing to work off the +destructive nervous fluid, or whatever it may be, which is in man's +nature; so that two culprit boys once in his power were not likely +to taste the gentle hand of mercy, and Richard and Ripton paid for +many a trout and partridge spared. At every minute of the day Ripton +was thrown into sweats of suspicion that discovery was imminent, by +some stray remark or message from Adrian. He was as a fish with the +hook in his gills, mysteriously caught without having nibbled; and +dive into what depths he would he was sensible of a summoning force +that compelled him perpetually towards the gasping surface, which he +seemed inevitably approaching when the dinner-bell sounded. There +the talk was all of Farmer Blaize. If it dropped, Adrian revived it, +and his caressing way with Ripton was just such as a keen sportsman +feels toward the creature that has owned his skill, and is making +its appearance for the world to acknowledge the same. Sir Austin saw +the manoeuvres, and admired Adrian's shrewdness. But he had to +check the young natural lawyer, for the effect of so much masked +examination upon Richard was growing baneful. This fish also felt +the hook in his gills, but this fish was more of a pike, and lay in +different waters, where there were old stumps and black roots to +wind about, and defy alike strong pulling and delicate handling. In +other words, Richard showed symptoms of a disposition to take refuge +in lies. + +"You know the grounds, my dear boy," Adrian observed to him. "Tell +me; do you think it easy to get to the rick unperceived? I hear they +suspect one of the farmer's turned-off hands." + +"I tell you I don't know the grounds," Richard sullenly replied. + +"Not?" Adrian counterfeited courteous astonishment. "I thought Mr. +Thompson said you were over there yesterday?" + +Ripton, glad to speak a truth, hurriedly assured Adrian that it was +not he had said so. + +"Not? You had good sport, gentlemen, hadn't you?" + +"Oh, yes!" mumbled the wretched victims, reddening as they +remembered, in Adrian's slightly drawled rusticity of tone, Farmer +Blaize's first address to them. + +"I suppose you were among the Fire-worshippers last night, too?" +persisted Adrian. "In some countries, I hear, they manage their best +sport at night-time, and beat up for game with torches. It must be a +fine sight. After all, the country would be dull if we hadn't a rip +here and there to treat us to a little conflagration." + +"A rip!" laughed Richard, to his friend's disgust and alarm at his +daring. "You don't mean this Rip, do you?" + +"Mr. Thompson fire a rick? I should as soon suspect you, my dear +boy.--You are aware, young gentlemen, that it is rather a serious +thing--eh? In this country, you know, the landlord has always been +the pet of the Laws. By the way," Adrian continued, as if diverging +to another topic, "you met two gentlemen of the road in your +explorations yesterday, Magians. Now, if I were a magistrate of the +county, like Sir Miles Papworth, my suspicions would light upon +those gentlemen. A tinker and a ploughman, I think you said, Mr. +Thompson. Not? Well, say two ploughmen." + +"More likely two tinkers," said Richard. + +"Oh! if you wish to exclude the ploughman--was he out of employ?" + +Ripton, with Adrian's eyes inveterately fixed on him, stammered an +affirmative. + +"The tinker, or the ploughman?" + +"The ploughm--" Ingenuous Ripton looking about, as if to aid himself +whenever he was able to speak the truth, beheld Richard's face +blackening at him, and swallowed back half the word. + +"The ploughman!" Adrian took him up cheerily. "Then we have here a +ploughman out of employ. Given a ploughman out of employ, and a rick +burnt. The burning of a rick is an act of vengeance, and a ploughman +out of employ is a vengeful animal. The rick and the ploughman are +advancing to a juxtaposition. Motive being established, we have only +to prove their proximity at a certain hour, and our ploughman +voyages beyond seas." + +"Is it transportation for rick-burning?" inquired Ripton aghast. + +Adrian spoke solemnly: "They shave your head. You are manacled. Your +diet is sour bread and cheese-parings. You work in strings of +twenties and thirties. ARSON is branded on your backs in an enormous +A. Theological works are the sole literary recreation of the +well-conducted and deserving. Consider the fate of this poor fellow, +and what an act of vengeance brings him to! Do you know his name?" + +"How should I know his name?" said Richard, with an assumption of +innocence painful to see. + +Sir Austin remarked that no doubt it would soon be known, and Adrian +perceived that he was to quiet his line, marvelling a little at the +baronet's blindness to what was so clear. He would not tell, for +that would ruin his future influence with Richard; still he wanted +some present credit for his discernment and devotion. The boys got +away from dinner, and, after deep consultation, agreed upon a course +of conduct, which was to commiserate Farmer Blaize loudly, and make +themselves look as much like the public as it was possible for two +young malefactors to look, one of whom already felt Adrian's +enormous A devouring his back with the fierceness of the Promethean +eagle, and isolating him for ever from mankind. Adrian relished +their novel tactics sharply, and led them to lengths of lamentation +for Farmer Blaize. Do what they might, the hook was in their gills. +The farmer's whip had reduced them to bodily contortions: these were +decorous compared with the spiritual writhings they had to perform +under Adrian's manipulation. Ripton was fast becoming a coward, and +Richard a liar, when next morning Austin Wentworth came over from +Poer Hall bringing news that one Mr. Thomas Bakewell, yeoman, had +been arrested on suspicion of the crime of Arson and lodged in jail, +awaiting the magisterial pleasure of Sir Miles Papworth. Austin's +eye rested on Richard as he spoke these terrible tidings. The hope +of Raynham returned his look, perfectly calm, and had, moreover, +the presence of mind not to look at Ripton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JUVENILE STRATAGEMS + + +As soon as they could escape, the boys got away together into an +obscure corner of the park, and there took counsel of their +extremity. + +"Whatever shall we do now?" asked Ripton of his leader. + +Scorpion girt with fire was never in a more terrible prison-house +than poor Ripton, around whom the raging element he had assisted to +create seemed to be drawing momentary narrower circles. + +"There's only one chance," said Richard, coming to a dead halt, and +folding his arms resolutely. + +His comrade inquired with the utmost eagerness what that chance +might be. + +Richard fixed his eyes on a flint, and replied: "We must rescue that +fellow from jail." + +Ripton gazed at his leader, and fell back with astonishment. "My +dear Ricky! but how are we to do it?" + +Richard, still perusing his flint, replied: "We must manage to get a +file in to him and a rope. It can be done, I tell you. I don't care +what I pay. I don't care what I do. He must be got out." + +"Bother that old Blaize!" exclaimed Ripton, taking off his cap to +wipe his frenzied forehead, and brought down his friend's reproof. + +"Never mind old Blaize now. Talk about letting it out! Look at you. +I'm ashamed of you. You talk about Robin Hood and King Richard! Why, +you haven't an atom of courage. Why, you let it out every second of +the day. Whenever Rady begins speaking you start; I can see the +perspiration rolling down you. Are you afraid?--And then you +contradict yourself. You never keep to one story. Now, follow me. We +must risk everything to get him out. Mind that! And keep out of +Adrian's way as much as you can. And keep to one story." + +With these sage directions the young leader marched his +companion-culprit down to inspect the jail where Tom Bakewell lay +groaning over the results of the super-mundane conflict, and the +victim of it that he was. + +In Lobourne Austin Wentworth had the reputation of the poor man's +friend; a title he earned more largely ere he went to the reward God +alone can give to that supreme virtue. Dame Bakewell, the mother of +Tom, on hearing of her son's arrest, had run to comfort him and +render him what help she could; but this was only sighs and tears, +and, oh deary me! which only perplexed poor Tom, who bade her leave +an unlucky chap to his fate, and not make himself a thundering +villain. Whereat the dame begged him to take heart, and he should +have a true comforter. "And though it's a gentleman that's coming to +you, Tom--for he never refuses a poor body," said Mrs. Bakewell, +"it's a true Christian, Tom! and the Lord knows if the sight of him +mayn't be the saving of you, for he's light to look on, and a sermon +to listen to, he is!" + +Tom was not prepossessed by the prospect of a sermon, and looked a +sullen dog enough when Austin entered his cell. He was surprised at +the end of half-an-hour to find himself engaged in man-to-man +conversation with a gentleman and a Christian. When Austin rose to +go, Tom begged permission to shake his hand. + +"Take and tell young master up at the Abbey that I an't the chap to +peach. He'll know. He's a young gentleman as'll make any man do as +he wants 'em! He's a mortal wild young gentleman! And I'm a Ass! +That's where 'tis. But I an't a blackguard. Tell him that, sir!" + +This was how it came that Austin eyed young Richard seriously while +he told the news at Raynham. The boy was shy of Austin more than of +Adrian. Why, he did not know; but he made it a hard task for Austin +to catch him alone, and turned sulky that instant. Austin was not +clever like Adrian: he seldom divined other people's ideas, and +always went the direct road to his object; so instead of beating +about and setting the boy on the alert at all points, crammed to the +muzzle with lies, he just said, "Tom Bakewell told me to let you +know he does not intend to peach on you," and left him. + +Richard repeated the intelligence to Ripton, who cried aloud that +Tom was a brick. + +"He shan't suffer for it," said Richard, and pondered on a thicker +rope and sharper file. + +"But will your cousin tell?" was Ripton's reflection. + +"He!" Richard's lip expressed contempt. "A ploughman refuses to +peach, and you ask if one of our family will?" + +Ripton stood for the twentieth time reproved on this point. + +The boys had examined the outer walls of the jail, and arrived at +the conclusion that Tom's escape might be managed if Tom had spirit, +and the rope and file could be anyway reached to him. But to do +this, somebody must gain admittance to his cell, and who was to be +taken into their confidence? + +"Try your cousin," Ripton suggested, after much debate. + +Richard, smiling, wished to know if he meant Adrian. + +"No, no!" Ripton hurriedly reassured him. "Austin." + +The same idea was knocking at Richard's head. + +"Let's get the rope and file first," said he, and to Bursley they +went for those implements to defeat the law, Ripton procuring the +file at one shop and Richard the rope at another, with such masterly +cunning did they lay their measures for the avoidance of every +possible chance of detection. And better to assure this, in a wood +outside Bursley Richard stripped to his shirt and wound the rope +round his body, tasting the tortures of anchorites and penitential +friars, that nothing should be risked to make Tom's escape a +certainty. Sir Austin saw the marks at night as his son lay asleep, +through the half-opened folds of his bed-gown. + +It was a severe stroke when, after all their stratagems and trouble, +Austin Wentworth refused the office the boys had zealously designed +for him. Time pressed. In a few days poor Tom would have to face the +redoubtable Sir Miles, and get committed, for rumours of +overwhelming evidence to convict him were rife about Lobourne, and +Farmer Blaize's wrath was unappeasable. Again and again young +Richard begged his cousin not to see him disgraced, and to help him +in this extremity. Austin smiled on him. + +"My dear Ricky," said he, "there are two ways of getting out of a +scrape: a long way and a short way. When you've tried the roundabout +method, and failed, come to me, and I'll show you the straight +route." + +Richard was too entirely bent upon the roundabout method to consider +this advice more than empty words, and only ground his teeth at +Austin's unkind refusal. + +He imparted to Ripton, at the eleventh hour, that they must do it +themselves, to which Ripton heavily assented. + +On the day preceding poor Tom's doomed appearance before the +magistrate, Dame Bakewell had an interview with Austin, who went to +Raynham immediately, and sought Adrian's counsel upon what was to be +done. Homeric laughter and nothing else could be got out of Adrian +when he heard of the doings of these desperate boys: how they had +entered Dame Bakewell's smallest of retail shops, and purchased tea, +sugar, candles, and comfits of every description, till the shop was +clear of customers: how they had then hurried her into her little +back-parlour, where Richard had torn open his shirt and revealed the +coils of rope, and Ripton displayed the point of a file from a +serpentine recess in his jacket: how they had then told the +astonished woman that the rope she saw and the file she saw were +instruments for the liberation of her son; that there existed no +other means on earth to save him, they, the boys, having +unsuccessfully attempted all: how upon that Richard had tried with +the utmost earnestness to persuade her to disrobe and wind the rope +round her own person: and Ripton had aired his eloquence to induce +her to secrete the file: how, when she resolutely objected to the +rope, both boys began backing the file, and in an evil hour, she +feared, said Dame Bakewell, she had rewarded the gracious permission +given her by Sir Miles Papworth to visit her son, by tempting Tom to +file the Law. Though, thanks be to the Lord! Dame Bakewell added, +Tom had turned up his nose at the file, and so she had told young +Master Richard, who swore very bad for a young gentleman. + +"Boys are like monkeys," remarked Adrian, at the close of his +explosions, "the gravest actors of farcical nonsense that the world +possesses. May I never be where there are no boys! A couple of boys +left to themselves will furnish richer fun than any troop of trained +comedians. No: no Art arrives at the artlessness of nature in +matters of comedy. You can't simulate the ape. Your antics are dull. +They haven't the charming inconsequence of the natural animal. Look +at these two! Think of the shifts they are put to all day long! They +know I know all about it, and yet their serenity of innocence is all +but unruffled in my presence. You're sorry to think about the end of +the business, Austin? So am I! I dread the idea of the curtain going +down. Besides, it will do Ricky a world of good. A practical lesson +is the best lesson." + +"Sinks deepest," said Austin, "but whether he learns good or evil +from it is the question at stake." + +Adrian stretched his length at ease. + +"This will be his first nibble at experience, old Time's fruit, hateful +to the palate of youth! for which season only hath it any nourishment! +Experience! You know Coleridge's capital simile?--Mournful you call +it? Well! all wisdom is mournful. 'Tis therefore, coz, that the wise do +love the Comic Muse. Their own high food would kill them. You shall +find great poets, rare philosophers, night after night on the broad +grin before a row of yellow lights and mouthing masks. Why? Because +all's dark at home. The stage is the pastime of great minds. That's +how it comes that the stage is now down. An age of rampant little +minds, my dear Austin! How I hate that cant of yours about an Age of +Work--you, and your Mortons, and your parsons Brawnley, rank radicals +all of you, base materialists! What does Diaper Sandoe sing of your +Age of Work? Listen! + + 'An Age of petty tit for tat, + An Age of busy gabble: + An age that's like a brewer's vat, + Fermenting for the rabble! + + 'An Age that's chaste in Love, but lax + To virtuous abuses: + Whose gentlemen and ladies wax + Too dainty for their uses. + + 'An Age that drives an Iron Horse, + Of Time and Space defiant; + Exulting in a Giant's Force, + And trembling at the Giant. + + 'An Age of Quaker hue and cut, + By Mammon misbegotten; + See the mad Hamlet mouth and strut! + And mark the Kings of Cotton! + + 'From this unrest, lo, early wreck'd, + A Future staggers crazy, + Ophelia of the Ages, deck'd + With woeful weed and daisy!'" + +Murmuring, "Get your parson Brawnley to answer that!" Adrian changed +the resting-place of a leg, and smiled. The AGE was an old +battle-field between him and Austin. + +"My parson Brawnley, as you call him, has answered it," said Austin, +"not by hoping his best, which would probably leave the Age to go +mad to your satisfaction, but by doing it. And he has and will +answer your Diaper Sandoe in better verse, as he confutes him in a +better life." + +"You don't see Sandoe's depth," Adrian replied. "Consider that +phrase, 'Ophelia of the Ages'! Is not Brawnley, like a dozen other +leading spirits--I think that's your term--just the metaphysical +Hamlet to drive her mad? She, poor maid! asks for marriage and +smiling babes, while my lord lover stands questioning the Infinite, +and rants to the Impalpable." + +Austin laughed. "Marriage and smiling babes she would have in +abundance, if Brawnley legislated. Wait till you know him. He will +be over at Poer Hall shortly, and you will see what a Man of the Age +means. But now, pray, consult with me about these boys." + +"Oh, those boys!" Adrian tossed a hand. "Are there boys of the Age +as well as men? Not? Then boys are better than men: boys are for all +Ages. What do you think, Austin? They've been studying Latude's +Escape. I found the book open in Ricky's room, on the top of +Jonathan Wild. Jonathan preserved the secrets of his profession, and +taught them nothing. So they're going to make a Latude of Mr. Tom +Bakewell. He's to be Bastille Bakewell, whether he will or no. Let +them. Let the wild colt run free! We can't help them. We can only +look on. We should spoil the play." + +Adrian always made a point of feeding the fretful beast Impatience +with pleasantries--a not congenial diet; and Austin, the most +patient of human beings, began to lose his self-control. + +"You talk as if Time belonged to you, Adrian. We have but a few +hours left us. Work first, and joke afterwards. The boy's fate is +being decided now." + +"So is everybody's, my dear Austin!" yawned the epicurean. + +"Yes, but this boy is at present under our guardianship--under yours +especially." + +"Not yet! not yet!" Adrian interjected languidly. "No getting into +scrapes when I have him. The leash, young hound! the collar, young +colt! I'm perfectly irresponsible at present." + +"You may have something different to deal with when you are +responsible, if you think that." + +"I take my young prince as I find him, coz: a Julian, or a +Caracalla: a Constantine, or a Nero. Then, if he will play the +fiddle to a conflagration, he shall play it well: if he must be a +disputatious apostate, at any rate he shall understand logic and +men, and have the habit of saying his prayers." + +"Then you leave me to act alone?" said Austin, rising. + +"Without a single curb!" Adrian gesticulated an acquiesced +withdrawal. "I'm sure you would not, still more certain you cannot, +do harm. And be mindful of my prophetic words: Whatever's done, old +Blaize will have to be bought off. There's the affair settled at +once. I suppose I must go to the chief to-night and settle it +myself. We can't see this poor devil condemned, though it's nonsense +to talk of a boy being the prime instigator." + +Austin cast an eye at the complacent languor of the wise youth, his +cousin, and the little that he knew of his fellows told him he might +talk for ever here, and not be comprehended. The wise youth's two +ears were stuffed with his own wisdom. One evil only Adrian dreaded, +it was clear--the action of the law. + +As he was moving away, Adrian called out to him, "Stop, Austin! +There! don't be anxious! You invariably take the glum side. I've +done something. Never mind what. If you go down to Belthorpe, be +civil, but not obsequious. You remember the tactics of Scipio +Africanus against the Punic elephants? Well, don't say a word--in +thine ear, coz: I've turned Master Blaize's elephants. If they +charge, 'twill be a feint, and back to the destruction of his +serried ranks! You understand. Not? Well, 'tis as well. Only, let +none say that I sleep. If I must see him to-night, I go down knowing +he has not got us in his power." The wise youth yawned, and +stretched out a hand for any book that might be within his reach. +Austin left him to look about the grounds for Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +DAPHNE'S BOWER + + +A little laurel-shaded temple of white marble looked out on the +river from a knoll bordering the Raynham beechwoods, and was dubbed +by Adrian Daphne's Bower. To this spot Richard had retired, and +there Austin found him with his head buried in his hands, a picture +of desperation, whose last shift has been defeated. He allowed +Austin to greet him and sit by him without lifting his head. Perhaps +his eyes were not presentable. + +"Where's your friend?" Austin began. + +"Gone!" was the answer, sounding cavernous from behind hair and +fingers. An explanation presently followed, that a summons had come +for him in the morning from Mr. Thompson; and that Mr. Ripton had +departed against his will. + +In fact, Ripton had protested that he would defy his parent and +remain by his friend in the hour of adversity and at the post of +danger. Sir Austin signified his opinion that a boy should obey his +parent, by giving orders to Benson for Ripton's box to be packed and +ready before noon; and Ripton's alacrity in taking the baronet's +view of filial duty was as little feigned as his offer to Richard +to throw filial duty to the winds. He rejoiced that the Fates had +agreed to remove him from the very hot neighbourhood of Lobourne, +while he grieved, like an honest lad, to see his comrade left to +face calamity alone. The boys parted amicably, as they could hardly +fail to do, when Ripton had sworn fealty to the Feverels with a +warmth that made him declare himself bond, and due to appear at any +stated hour and at any stated place to fight all the farmers in +England, on a mandate from the heir of the house. + +"So you're left alone," said Austin, contemplating the boy's shapely +head. "I'm glad of it. We never know what's in us till we stand by +ourselves." + +There appeared to be no answer forthcoming. Vanity, however, replied +at last, "He wasn't much support." + +"Remember his good points now he's gone, Ricky." + +"Oh! he was staunch," the boy grumbled. + +"And a staunch friend is not always to be found. Now, have you tried +your own way of rectifying this business, Ricky?" + +"I have done everything." + +"And failed!" + +There was a pause, and then the deep-toned evasion-- + +"Tom Bakewell's a coward!" + +"I suppose, poor fellow," said Austin, in his kind way, "he doesn't +want to get into a deeper mess. I don't think he's a coward." + +"He is a coward," cried Richard. "Do you think if I had a file I +would stay in prison? I'd be out the first night! And he might have +had the rope, too--a rope thick enough for a couple of men his size +and weight. Ripton and I and Ned Markham swung on it for an hour, +and it didn't give way. He's a coward, and deserves his fate. I've +no compassion for a coward." + +"Nor I much," said Austin. + +Richard had raised his head in the heat of his denunciation of poor +Tom. He would have hidden it had he known the thought in Austin's +clear eyes while he faced them. + +"I never met a coward myself," Austin continued. "I have heard of +one or two. One let an innocent man die for him." + +"How base!" exclaimed the boy. + +"Yes, it was bad," Austin acquiesced. + +"Bad!" Richard scorned the poor contempt. "How I would have spurned +him! He was a coward!" + +"I believe he pleaded the feelings of his family in his excuse, and +tried every means to get the man off. I have read also in the +confessions of a celebrated philosopher, that in his youth he +committed some act of pilfering, and accused a young servant-girl of +his own theft, who was condemned and dismissed for it, pardoning her +guilty accuser." + +"What a coward!" shouted Richard. "And he confessed it publicly?" + +"You may read it yourself." + +"He actually wrote it down, and printed it?" + +"You have the book in your father's library. Would you have done so +much?" + +Richard faltered. No! he admitted that he never could have told +people. + +"Then who is to call that man a coward?" said Austin. "He expiated +his cowardice as all who give way in moments of weakness, and are +not cowards, must do. The coward chooses to think 'God does not see. +I shall escape.' He who is not a coward, and has succumbed, knows +that God has seen all, and it is not so hard a task for him to make +his heart bare to the world. Worse, I should fancy it, to know +myself an impostor when men praised me." + +Young Richard's eyes were wandering on Austin's gravely cheerful +face. A keen intentness suddenly fixed them, and he dropped his +head. + +"So I think you're wrong, Ricky, in calling this poor Tom a coward +because he refuses to try your means of escape," Austin resumed. "A +coward hardly objects to drag in his accomplice. And, where the +person involved belongs to a great family, it seems to me that for a +poor plough-lad to volunteer not to do so speaks him anything but a +coward." + +Richard was dumb. Altogether to surrender his rope and file was a +fearful sacrifice, after all the time, trepidation, and study he had +spent on those two saving instruments. If he avowed Tom's manly +behaviour, Richard Feverel was in a totally new position. Whereas, +by keeping Tom a coward, Richard Feverel was the injured one, and +to seem injured is always a luxury; sometimes a necessity, whether +among boys or men. + +In Austin the Magian conflict would not have lasted long. He had but +a blind notion of the fierceness with which it raged in young +Richard. Happily for the boy, Austin was not a preacher. A single +instance, a cant phrase, a fatherly manner, might have wrecked him, +by arousing ancient or latent opposition. The born preacher we feel +instinctively to be our foe. He may do some good to the wretches +that have been struck down and lie gasping on the battlefield: he +rouses antagonism in the strong. Richard's nature, left to itself, +wanted little more than an indication of the proper track, and when +he said, "Tell me what I can do, Austin?" he had fought the best +half of the battle. His voice was subdued. Austin put his hand on +the boy's shoulder. + +"You must go down to Farmer Blaize." + +"Well!" said Richard, sullenly divining the deed of penance. + +"You'll know what to say to him when you're there." + +The boy bit his lip and frowned. "Ask a favour of that big brute, +Austin? I can't!" + +"Just tell him the whole case, and that you don't intend to stand by +and let the poor fellow suffer without a friend to help him out of +his scrape." + +"But, Austin," the boy pleaded, "I shall have to ask him to help off +Tom Bakewell! How can I ask him, when I hate him?" + +Austin bade him go, and think nothing of the consequences till he +got there. + +Richard groaned in soul. + +"You've no pride, Austin." + +"Perhaps not." + +"You don't know what it is to ask a favour of a brute you hate." + +Richard stuck to that view of the case, and stuck to it the faster +the more imperatively the urgency of a movement dawned upon him. + +"Why," continued the boy, "I shall hardly be able to keep my fists +off him!" + +"Surely you've punished him enough, boy!" said Austin. + +"He struck me!" Richard's lip quivered. "He dared not come at me +with his hands. He struck me with a whip. He'll be telling everybody +that he horsewhipped me, and that I went down and begged his pardon. +Begged his pardon! A Feverel beg his pardon! Oh, if I had my will!" + +"The man earns his bread, Ricky. You poached on his grounds. He +turned you off, and you fired his rick." + +"And I'll pay him for his loss. And I won't do any more." + +"Because you won't ask a favour of him?" + +"No! I will not ask a favour of him." + +Austin looked at the boy steadily. "You prefer to receive a favour +from poor Tom Bakewell?" + +At Austin's enunciation of this obverse view of the matter Richard +raised his brow. Dimly a new light broke in upon him. "Favour from +Tom Bakewell, the ploughman? How do you mean, Austin?" + +"To save yourself an unpleasantness you permit a country lad to +sacrifice himself for you? I confess I should not have so much +pride." + +"Pride!" shouted Richard, stung by the taunt, and set his sight hard +at the blue ridges of the hills. + +Not knowing for the moment what else to do, Austin drew a picture of +Tom in prison, and repeated Tom's volunteer statement. The picture, +though his intentions were far from designing it so, had to Richard, +whose perception of humour was infinitely keener, a horrible +chaw-bacon smack about it. Visions of a grinning lout, open from ear +to ear, unkempt, coarse, splay-footed, rose before him and afflicted +him with the strangest sensations of disgust and comicality, mixed +up with pity and remorse--a sort of twisted pathos. There lay Tom; +hob-nail Tom! a bacon-munching, reckless, beer-swilling animal! and +yet a man; a dear brave human heart notwithstanding; capable of +devotion and unselfishness. The boy's better spirit was touched, and +it kindled his imagination to realize the abject figure of poor +clodpole Tom, and surround it with a halo of mournful light. His +soul was alive. Feelings he had never known streamed in upon him as +from an ethereal casement, an unwonted tenderness, an embracing +humour, a consciousness of some ineffable glory, an irradiation of +the features of humanity. All this was in the bosom of the boy, and +through it all the vision of an actual hob-nail Tom, coarse, +unkempt, open from ear to ear; whose presence was a finger of shame +to him and an oppression of clodpole; yet toward whom he felt just +then a loving-kindness beyond what he felt for any living creature. +He laughed at him, and wept over him. He prized him, while he shrank +from him. It was a genial strife of the angel in him with +constituents less divine; but the angel was uppermost and led the +van--extinguished loathing, humanized laughter, transfigured +pride--pride that would persistently contemplate the corduroys of +gaping Tom, and cry to Richard, in the very tone of Adrian's ironic +voice, "Behold your benefactor!" + +Austin sat by the boy, unaware of the sublimer tumult he had +stirred. Little of it was perceptible in Richard's countenance. The +lines of his mouth were slightly drawn; his eyes hard set into the +distance. He remained thus many minutes. Finally he jumped to his +legs, saying, "I'll go at once to old Blaize and tell him." + +Austin grasped his hand, and together they issued out of Daphne's +Bower, in the direction of Lobourne. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BITTER CUP + + +Farmer Blaize was not so astonished at the visit of Richard Feverel +as that young gentleman expected him to be. The farmer, seated in +his easy-chair in the little low-roofed parlour of an old-fashioned +farm-house, with a long clay pipe on the table at his elbow, and a +veteran pointer at his feet, had already given audience to three +distinguished members of the Feverel blood, who had come separately, +according to their accustomed secretiveness, and with one object. In +the morning it was Sir Austin himself. Shortly after his departure, +arrived Austin Wentworth; close on his heels, Algernon, known about +Lobourne as the Captain, popular wherever he was known. Farmer +Blaize reclined in considerable elation. He had brought these great +people to a pretty low pitch. He had welcomed them hospitably, as a +British yeoman should; but not budged a foot in his demands: not to +the baronet: not to the Captain: not to good young Mr. Wentworth. +For Farmer Blaize was a solid Englishman; and, on hearing from the +baronet a frank confession of the hold he had on the family, he +determined to tighten his hold, and only relax it in exchange for +tangible advantages--compensation to his pocket, his wounded person, +and his still more wounded sentiments: the total indemnity being, in +round figures, three hundred pounds, and a spoken apology from the +prime offender, young Mister Richard. Even then there was a +reservation. Provided, the farmer said, nobody had been tampering +with any of his witnesses. In that case Farmer Blaize declared the +money might go, and he would transport Tom Bakewell, as he had sworn +he would. And it goes hard, too, with an accomplice, by law, added +the farmer, knocking the ashes leisurely out of his pipe. He had no +wish to bring any disgrace anywhere; he respected the inmates of +Raynham Abbey, as in duty bound; he should be sorry to see them in +trouble. Only no tampering with his witnesses. He was a man for Law. +Rank was much: money was much: but Law was more. In this country Law +was above the sovereign. To tamper with the Law was treason to the +realm. + +"I come to you direct," the baronet explained. "I tell you candidly +in what way I discovered my son to be mixed up in this miserable +affair. I promise you indemnity for your loss, and an apology that +shall, I trust, satisfy your feelings, assuring you that to tamper +with witnesses is not the province of a Feverel. All I ask of you in +return is, not to press the prosecution. At present it rests with +you. I am bound to do all that lies in my power for this imprisoned +man. How and wherefore my son was prompted to suggest, or assist in, +such an act, I cannot explain, for I do not know." + +"Hum!" said the farmer. "I think I do." + +"You know the cause?" Sir Austin stared. "I beg you to confide it to +me." + +"'Least, I can pretty nigh neighbour it with a guess," said the +farmer. "We an't good friends, Sir Austin, me and your son, just +now--not to say cordial. I, ye see, Sir Austin, I'm a man as don't +like young gentlemen a-poachin' on his grounds without his +permission,--in special when birds is plentiful on their own. It +appear he do like it. Consequently I has to flick this whip--as them +fellers at the races: All in this 'ere Ring's mine! as much as to +say; and who's been hit, he's had fair warnin'. I'm sorry for't, but +that's just the case." + +Sir Austin retired to communicate with his son, when he should find +him. + +Algernon's interview passed off in ale and promises. He also assured +Farmer Blaize that no Feverel could be affected by his proviso. + +No less did Austin Wentworth. The farmer was satisfied. + +"Money's safe, I know," said he; "now for the 'pology!" and Farmer +Blaize thrust his legs further out, and his head further back. + +The farmer naturally reflected that the three separate visits had +been conspired together. Still the baronet's frankness, and the +baronet's not having reserved himself for the third and final +charge, puzzled him. He was considering whether they were a deep, or +a shallow lot, when young Richard was announced. + +A pretty little girl with the roses of thirteen springs in her +cheeks, and abundant beautiful bright tresses, tripped before the +boy, and loitered shyly by the farmer's armchair to steal a look at +the handsome new-comer. She was introduced to Richard as the +farmer's niece, Lucy Desborough, the daughter of a lieutenant in the +Royal Navy, and, what was better, though the farmer did not +pronounce it so loudly, a real good girl. + +Neither the excellence of her character, nor her rank in life, +tempted Richard to inspect the little lady. He made an awkward bow, +and sat down. + +The farmer's eyes twinkled. "Her father," he continued, "fought and +fell for his coontry. A man as fights for's coontry's a right to +hould up his head--ay! with any in the land. Desb'roughs o' Dorset! +d'ye know that family, Master Feverel?" + +Richard did not know them, and, by his air, did not desire to become +acquainted with any offshoot of that family. + +"She can make puddens and pies," the farmer went on, regardless of +his auditor's gloom. "She's a lady, as good as the best of 'em. I +don't care about their being Catholics--the Desb'roughs o' Dorset +are gentlemen. And she's good for the pianer, too! She strums to me +of evenin's. I'm for the old tunes: she's for the new. Gal-like! +While she's with me she shall be taught things use'l. She can +parley-voo a good 'un and foot it, as it goes; been in France a +couple of year. I prefer the singin' of 't to the talkin' of 't. +Come, Luce! toon up--eh?--Ye wun't? That song about the +Viffendeer--a female"--Farmer Blaize volunteered the translation of +the title--"who wears the--you guess what! and marches along with +the French sojers: a pretty brazen bit o' goods, I sh'd fancy." + +Mademoiselle Lucy corrected her uncle's French, but objected to do +more. The handsome cross boy had almost taken away her voice for +speech, as it was, and sing in his company she could not; so she +stood, a hand on her uncle's chair to stay herself from falling, +while she wriggled a dozen various shapes of refusal, and shook her +head at the farmer with fixed eyes. + +"Aha!" laughed the farmer, dismissing her, "they soon learn the +difference 'twixt the young 'un and the old 'un. Go along, Luce! and +learn yer lessons for to-morrow." + +Reluctantly the daughter of the Royal Navy glided away. Her uncle's +head followed her to the door, where she dallied to catch a last +impression of the young stranger's lowering face, and darted +through. + +Farmer Blaize laughed and chuckled. "She an't so fond of her uncle +as that, every day! Not that she an't a good nurse--the kindest +little soul you'd meet of a winter's walk! She'll read t' ye, and +make drinks, and sing, too, if ye likes it, and she won't be tired. +A obstinate good 'un, she be! Bless her!" + +The farmer may have designed, by these eulogies of his niece, to +give his visitor time to recover his composure, and establish a +common topic. His diversion only irritated and confused our +shame-eaten youth. Richard's intention had been to come to the +farmer's threshold: to summon the farmer thither, and in a loud and +haughty tone then and there to take upon himself the whole burden +of the charge against Tom Bakewell. He had strayed, during his +passage to Belthorpe, somewhat back to his old nature; and his being +compelled to enter the house of his enemy, sit in his chair, and +endure an introduction to his family, was more than he bargained +for. He commenced blinking hard in preparation for the horrible dose +to which delay and the farmer's cordiality added inconceivable +bitters. Farmer Blaize was quite at his ease; nowise in a hurry. He +spoke of the weather and the harvest: of recent doings up at the +Abbey: glanced over that year's cricketing; hoped that no future +Feverel would lose a leg to the game. Richard saw and heard Arson in +it all. He blinked harder as he neared the cup. In a moment of +silence, he seized it with a gasp. + +"Mr. Blaize! I have come to tell you that I am the person who set +fire to your rick the other night." + +An odd contraction formed about the farmer's mouth. He changed his +posture, and said, "Ay? that's what ye're come to tell me, sir?" + +"Yes!" said Richard, firmly. + +"And that be all?" + +"Yes!" Richard reiterated. + +The farmer again changed his posture. "Then, my lad, ye've come to +tell me a lie!" + +Farmer Blaize looked straight at the boy, undismayed by the dark +flush of ire he had kindled. + +"You dare to call me a liar!" cried Richard, starting up. + +"I say," the farmer renewed his first emphasis, and smacked his +thigh thereto, "that's a lie!" + +Richard held out his clenched fist. "You have twice insulted me. You +have struck me: you have dared to call me a liar. I would have +apologized--I would have asked your pardon, to have got off that +fellow in prison. Yes! I would have degraded myself that another man +should not suffer for my deed"---- + +"Quite proper!" interposed the farmer. + +"And you take this opportunity of insulting me afresh. You're a +coward, sir! nobody but a coward would have insulted me in his own +house." + +"Sit ye down, sit ye down, young master," said the farmer, +indicating the chair and cooling the outburst with his hand. "Sit +ye down. Don't ye be hasty. If ye hadn't been hasty t'other day, we +sh'd a been friends yet. Sit ye down, sir. I sh'd be sorry to reckon +you out a liar, Mr. Feverel, or anybody o' your name. I respects yer +father though we're opp'site politics. I'm willin' to think well o' +you. What I say is, that as you say an't the trewth. Mind! I don't +like you none the worse for't. But it an't what is. That's all! You +knows it as well's I!" + +Richard, disdaining to show signs of being pacified, angrily +reseated himself. The farmer spoke sense, and the boy, after his +late interview with Austin, had become capable of perceiving vaguely +that a towering passion is hardly the justification for a wrong +course of conduct. + +"Come," continued the farmer, not unkindly, "what else have you to +say?" + +Here was the same bitter cup he had already once drained brimming at +Richard's lips again! Alas, poor human nature! that empties to the +dregs a dozen of these evil drinks, to evade the single one which +Destiny, less cruel, had insisted upon. + +The boy blinked and tossed it off. + +"I came to say that I regretted the revenge I had taken on you for +your striking me." + +Farmer Blaize nodded. + +"And now ye've done, young gentleman?" + +Still another cupful! + +"I should be very much obliged," Richard formally began, but his +stomach was turned; he could but sip and sip, and gather a distaste +which threatened to make the penitential act impossible. "Very much +obliged," he repeated: "much obliged, if you would be so kind," and +it struck him that had he spoken this at first he would have given +it a wording more persuasive with the farmer and more worthy of his +own pride: more honest, in fact: for a sense of the dishonesty of +what he was saying caused him to cringe and simulate humility to +deceive the farmer, and the more he said the less he felt his words, +and, feeling them less, he inflated them more. "So kind," he +stammered, "so kind" (fancy a Feverel asking this big brute to be so +kind!) "as to do me the favour" (_me_ the favour!) "to exert +yourself" (it's all to please Austin) "to endeavour to--hem! to" +(there's no saying it!)---- + +The cup was full as ever. Richard dashed at it again. + +"What I came to ask is, whether you would have the kindness to try +what you could do" (what an infamous shame to have to beg like +this!) "do to save--do to ensure--whether you would have the +kindness"---- It seemed out of all human power to gulp it down. The +draught grew more and more abhorrent. To proclaim one's iniquity, to +apologize for one's wrongdoing; thus much could be done; but to beg +a favour of the offended party--that was beyond the self-abasement +any Feverel could consent to. Pride, however, whose inevitable +battle is against itself, drew aside the curtains of poor Tom's +prison, crying a second time, "Behold your Benefactor!" and, with +the words burning in his ears, Richard swallowed the dose: + +"Well, then, I want you, Mr. Blaize,--if you don't mind--will you +help me to get this man Bakewell off his punishment?" + +To do Farmer Blaize justice, he waited very patiently for the boy, +though he could not quite see why he did not take the gate at the +first offer. + +"Oh!" said he, when he heard and had pondered on the request. "Hum! +ha! we'll see about it t'morrow. But if he's innocent, you know, we +shan't mak'n guilty." + +"It was I did it!" Richard declared. + +The farmer's half-amused expression sharpened a bit. + +"So, young gentleman! and you're sorry for the night's work?" + +"I shall see that you are paid the full extent of your losses." + +"Thank'ee," said the farmer drily. + +"And, if this poor man is released to-morrow, I don't care what the +amount is." + +Farmer Blaize deflected his head twice in silence. "Bribery," one +motion expressed: "Corruption," the other. + +"Now," said he, leaning forward, and fixing his elbows on his knees, +while he counted the case at his fingers' ends, "excuse the liberty, +but wishin' to know where this 'ere money's to come from, I sh'd +like jest t'ask if so be Sir Austin know o' this?" + +"My father knows nothing of it," replied Richard. + +The farmer flung back in his chair. "Lie number Two," said his +shoulders, soured by the British aversion to being plotted at, and +not dealt with openly. + +"And ye've the money ready, young gentleman?" + +"I shall ask my father for it." + +"And he'll hand't out?" + +"Certainly he will!" + +Richard had not the slightest intention of ever letting his father +into his counsels. + +"A good three hundred pounds, ye know?" the farmer suggested. + +No consideration of the extent of damages, and the size of the sum, +affected young Richard, who said boldly, "He will not object when I +tell him I want that sum." + +It was natural Farmer Blaize should be a trifle suspicious that a +youth's guarantee would hardly be given for his father's readiness +to disburse such a thumping bill, unless he had previously received +his father's sanction and authority. + +"Hum!" said he, "why not 'a told him before?" + +The farmer threw an objectionable shrewdness into his query, that +caused Richard to compress his mouth and glance high. + +Farmer Blaize was positive 'twas a lie. + +"Hum! Ye still hold to't you fired the rick?" he asked. + +"The blame is mine!" quoth Richard, with the loftiness of a patriot +of old Rome. + +"Na, na!" the straightforward Briton put him aside. "Ye did't, or ye +didn't do't. Did ye do't, or no?" + +Thrust in a corner, Richard said, "I did it." + +Farmer Blaize reached his hand to the bell. It was answered in an +instant by little Lucy, who received orders to fetch in a dependent +at Belthorpe going by the name of the Bantam, and made her exit as +she had entered, with her eyes on the young stranger. + +"Now," said the farmer, "these be my principles. I'm a plain man, +Mr. Feverel. Above board with me, and you'll find me handsome. Try +to circumvent me, and I'm a ugly customer. I'll show you I've no +animosity. Your father pays--you apologize. That's enough for me! +Let Tom Bakewell fight't out with the Law, and I'll look on. The Law +wasn't on the spot, I suppose? so the Law ain't much witness. But I +am. Leastwise the Bantam is. I tell you, young gentleman, the +Bantam saw't! It's no moral use whatever your denyin' that ev'dence. +And where's the good, sir, I ask? What comes of 't? Whether it be +you, or whether it be Tom Bakewell--ain't all one? If I holds back, +ain't it sim'lar? It's the trewth I want! And here't comes," added +the farmer, as Miss Lucy ushered in the Bantam, who presented a +curious figure for that rare divinity to enliven. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A FINE DISTINCTION + + +In build of body, gait and stature, Giles Jinkson, the Bantam, was a +tolerably fair representative of the Punic elephant, whose part, +with diverse anticipations, the generals of the Blaize and Feverel +forces, from opposing ranks, expected him to play. Giles, surnamed +the Bantam, on account of some forgotten sally of his youth or +infancy, moved and looked elephantine. It sufficed that Giles was +well fed to assure that Giles was faithful--if uncorrupted. The farm +which supplied to him ungrudging provender had all his vast capacity +for work in willing exercise: the farmer who held the farm his +instinct reverenced as the fountain-source of beef and bacon, to say +nothing of beer, which was plentiful at Belthorpe, and good. This +Farmer Blaize well knew, and he reckoned consequently that here was +an animal always to be relied on--a sort of human composition out of +dog, horse, and bull, a cut above each of these quadrupeds in +usefulness, and costing proportionately more, but on the whole worth +the money, and therefore invaluable, as everything worth its money +must be to a wise man. When the stealing of grain had been made +known at Belthorpe, the Bantam, a fellow-thresher with Tom Bakewell, +had shared with him the shadow of the guilt. Farmer Blaize, if he +hesitated which to suspect, did not debate a second as to which he +would discard; and, when the Bantam said he had seen Tom secreting +pilkins in a sack, Farmer Blaize chose to believe him, and off went +poor Tom, told to rejoice in the clemency that spared his appearance +at Sessions. + +The Bantam's small sleepy orbits saw many things, and just at the +right moment, it seemed. He was certainly the first to give the clue +at Belthorpe on the night of the conflagration, and he may, +therefore, have seen poor Tom retreating stealthily from the scene, +as he averred he did. Lobourne had its say on the subject. Rustic +Lobourne hinted broadly at a young woman in the case, and moreover, +told a tale of how these fellow-threshers had, in noble rivalry, one +day turned upon each other to see which of the two threshed the +best; whereof the Bantam still bore marks, and malice, it was said. +However, there he stood, and tugged his forelocks to the company, +and if Truth really had concealed herself in him she must have been +hard set to find her unlikeliest hiding-place. + +"Now," said the farmer, marshalling forth his elephant with the +confidence of one who delivers his ace of trumps, "tell this young +gentleman what ye saw on the night of the fire, Bantam!" + +The Bantam jerked a bit of a bow to his patron, and then swung +round, fully obscuring him from Richard. + +Richard fixed his eyes on the floor, while the Bantam in rudest +Doric commenced his narrative. Knowing what was to come, and +thoroughly nerved to confute the main incident, Richard barely +listened to his barbarous locution: but when the recital arrived at +the point where the Bantam affirmed he had seen "T'm Baak'll wi's +owen hoies," Richard faced him, and was amazed to find himself being +mutely addressed by a series of intensely significant grimaces, +signs, and winks. + +"What do you mean? Why are you making those faces at me?" cried the +boy indignantly. + +Farmer Blaize leaned round the Bantam to have a look at him, and +beheld the stolidest mask ever given to man. + +"Bain't makin' no faces at nobody," growled the sulky elephant. + +The farmer commanded him to face about and finish. + +"A see T'm Baak'll," the Bantam recommenced, and again the +contortions of a horrible wink were directed at Richard. The boy +might well believe this churl was lying, and he did, and was +emboldened to exclaim-- + +"You never saw Tom Bakewell set fire to that rick!" + +The Bantam swore to it, grimacing an accompaniment. + +"I tell you," said Richard, "I put the lucifers there myself!" + +The suborned elephant was staggered. He meant to telegraph to the +young gentleman that he was loyal and true to certain gold pieces +that had been given him, and that in the right place and at the +right time he should prove so. Why was he thus suspected? Why was he +not understood? + +"A thowt I see 'un, then," muttered the Bantam, trying a middle +course. + +This brought down on him the farmer, who roared, "Thought! Ye +thought! What d'ye mean? Speak out, and don't be thinkin'. Thought? +What the devil's that?" + +"How could he see who it was on a pitch-dark night?" Richard put in. + +"Thought!" the farmer bellowed louder. "Thought--Devil take ye, when +ye took yer oath on't. Hulloa! What are ye screwin' yer eye at Mr. +Feverel for?--I say, young gentleman, have you spoken to this chap +before now?" + +"I?" replied Richard. "I have not seen him before." + +Farmer Blaize grasped the two arms of the chair he sat on, and +glared his doubts. + +"Come," said he to the Bantam, "speak out, and ha' done wi't. Say +what ye saw, and none o' yer thoughts. Damn yer thoughts! Ye saw Tom +Bakewell fire that there rick!" The farmer pointed at some musk-pots +in the window. "What business ha' you to be a-thinkin'? You're a +witness? Thinkin' an't ev'dence. What'll ye say to-morrow before +magistrate! Mind! what you say to-day, you'll stick by to-morrow." + +Thus adjured, the Bantam hitched his breech. What on earth the young +gentleman meant he was at a loss to speculate. He could not believe +that the young gentleman wanted to be transported, but if he had +been paid to help that, why, he would. And considering that this +day's evidence rather bound him down to the morrow's, he determined, +after much ploughing and harrowing through obstinate shocks of hair, +to be not altogether positive as to the person. It is possible that +he became thereby more a mansion of truth than he previously had +been; for the night, as he said, was so dark that you could not see +your hand before your face; and though, as he expressed it, you +might be mortal sure of a man, you could not identify him upon oath, +and the party he had taken for Tom Bakewell, and could have sworn +to, might have been the young gentleman present, especially as he +was ready to swear it upon oath. + +So ended the Bantam. + +No sooner had he ceased, than Farmer Blaize jumped up from his +chair, and made a fine effort to lift him out of the room from the +point of his toe. He failed, and sank back groaning with the pain of +the exertion and disappointment. + +"They're liars, every one!" he cried. "Liars, perj'rers, bribers, +and c'rrupters!--Stop!" to the Bantam, who was slinking away. +"You've done for yerself already! You swore to it!" + +"A din't!" said the Bantam, doggedly. + +"You swore to't," the farmer vociferated afresh. + +The Bantam played a tune upon the handle of the door, and still +affirmed that he did not; a double contradiction at which the farmer +absolutely raged in his chair, and was hoarse, as he called out a +third time that the Bantam had sworn to it. + +"Noa!" said the Bantam, ducking his poll. "Noa!" he repeated in a +lower note; and then, while a sombre grin betokening idiotic +enjoyment of his profound casuistical quibble worked at his jaw: + +"Not up'n o-ath!" he added, with a twitch of the shoulder and an +angular jerk of the elbow. + +Farmer Blaize looked vacantly at Richard, as if to ask him what he +thought of England's peasantry after the sample they had there. +Richard would have preferred not to laugh, but his dignity gave way +to his sense of the ludicrous, and he let fly a shout. The farmer +was in no laughing mood. He turned a wide eye back to the door. +"Lucky for'm," he exclaimed, seeing the Bantam had vanished, for his +fingers itched to break that stubborn head. He grew very puffy, and +addressed Richard solemnly: + +"Now, look ye here, Mr. Feverel! You've been a-tampering with my +witness. It's no use denyin'! I say y' 'ave, sir! You, or some of +ye. I don't care about no Feverel! My witness there has been bribed. +The Bantam's been bribed," and he shivered his pipe with an +energetic thump on the table--"bribed! I knows it! I could swear +to't!"---- + +"Upon oath?" Richard inquired, with a grave face. + +"Ay, upon oath!" said the farmer, not observing the impertinence. + +"I'd take my Bible oath on't! He's been corrupted, my principal +witness! Oh, it's dam cunnin', but it won't do the trick. I'll +transpoort Tom Bakewell, sure as a gun. He shall travel, that man +shall. Sorry for you, Mr. Feverel--sorry you haven't seen how to +treat me proper--you, or yours. Money won't do everything--no! it +won't. It'll c'rrupt a witness, but it won't clear a felon. I'd ha' +'scused you, sir! You're a boy and'll learn better. I asked no more +than payment and a 'pology; and that I'd ha' taken content--always +provided my witnesses weren't tampered with. Now you must stand yer +luck, all o' ye." + +Richard stood up and replied, "Very well, Mr. Blaize." + +"And if," continued the farmer, "Tom Bakewell don't drag you into't +after 'm, why, you're safe, as I hope ye'll be, sincere!" + +"It was not in consideration of my own safety that I sought this +interview with you," said Richard, head erect. + +"Grant ye that," the farmer responded. "Grant ye that! Yer bold +enough, young gentleman--comes of the blood that should be! If y' +had only ha' spoke trewth!--I believe yer father--believe every word +he said. I do wish I could ha' said as much for Sir Austin's son and +heir." + +"What!" cried Richard, with an astonishment hardly to be feigned, +"you have seen my father?" + +But Farmer Blaize had now such a scent for lies that he could detect +them where they did not exist, and mumbled gruffly, + +"Ay, we knows all about that!" + +The boy's perplexity saved him from being irritated. Who could have +told his father? An old fear of his father came upon him, and a +touch of an old inclination to revolt. + +"My father knows of this?" said he, very loudly, and staring, as he +spoke, right through the farmer. "Who has played me false? Who would +betray me to him? It was Austin! No one knew it but Austin. Yes, and +it was Austin who persuaded me to come here and submit to these +indignities. Why couldn't he be open with me? I shall never trust +him again!"---- + +"And why not you with me, young gentleman?" said the farmer. "I sh'd +trust you if ye had." + +Richard did not see the analogy. He bowed stiffly and bade him good +afternoon. + +Farmer Blaize pulled the bell. "'Company the young gentleman out, +Lucy," he waved to the little damsel in the doorway. "Do the +honours. And, Mr. Richard, ye might ha' made a friend o' me, sir, +and it's not too late so to do. I'm not cruel, but I hate lies. I +whipped my boy Tom, bigger than you, for not bein' above board, only +yesterday,--ay! made 'un stand within swing o' this chair, and +take's measure. Now, if ye'll come down to me, and speak trewth +before the trial--if it's only five minutes before't; or if Sir +Austin, who's a gentleman, 'll say there's been no tamperin' with +any o' my witnesses, his word for't--well and good! I'll do my best +to help off Tom Bakewell. And I'm glad, young gentleman, you've got +a conscience about a poor man, though he's a villain. Good +afternoon, sir." + +Richard marched hastily out of the room, and through the garden, +never so much as deigning a glance at his wistful little guide, who +hung at the garden gate to watch him up the lane, wondering a world +of fancies about the handsome proud boy. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +RICHARD PASSES THROUGH HIS PRELIMINARY ORDEAL, AND IS THE OCCASION +OF AN APHORISM + + +To have determined upon an act something akin to heroism in its way, and +to have fulfilled it by lying heartily, and so subverting the whole +structure built by good resolution, seems a sad downfall if we forget +what human nature, in its green weedy spring, is composed of. Young +Richard had quitted his cousin Austin fully resolved to do his penance +and drink the bitter cup; and he had drunk it; drained many cups to the +dregs; and it was to no purpose. Still they floated before him, brimmed, +trebly bitter. Away from Austin's influence, he was almost the same boy +who had slipped the guinea into Tom Bakewell's hand, and the lucifers +into Farmer Blaize's rick. For good seed is long ripening; a good boy is +not made in a minute. Enough that the seed was in him. He chafed on his +road to Raynham at the scene he had just endured, and the figure of +Belthorpe's fat tenant burnt like hot copper on the tablet of his brain, +insufferably condescending, and, what was worse, in the right. Richard, +obscured as his mind's eye was by wounded pride, saw that clearly, and +hated his enemy for it the more. + +Heavy Benson's tongue was knelling dinner as Richard arrived at the +Abbey. He hurried up to his room to dress. Accident, or design, had +laid the book of Sir Austin's aphorisms open on the dressing-table. +Hastily combing his hair, Richard glanced down and read-- + +"The Dog returneth to his vomit: the Liar must eat his Lie." + +Underneath was interjected in pencil: "The Devil's mouthful!" + +Young Richard ran downstairs feeling that his father had struck him +in the face. + +Sir Austin marked the scarlet stain on his son's cheek-bones. He sought +the youth's eye, but Richard would not look, and sat conning his plate, +an abject copy of Adrian's succulent air at that employment. How could +he pretend to the relish of an epicure when he was painfully +endeavouring to masticate The Devil's mouthful? + +Heavy Benson sat upon the wretched dinner. Hippias, usually the silent +member, as if awakened by the unnatural stillness, became sprightly, +like the goatsucker owl at night, and spoke much of his book, his +digestion, and his dreams, and was spared both by Algernon and Adrian. +One inconsequent dream he related, about fancying himself quite young +and rich, and finding himself suddenly in a field cropping razors +around him, when, just as he had, by steps dainty as those of a French +dancing-master, reached the middle, he to his dismay beheld a path clear +of the bloodthirsty steel-crop, which he might have taken at first had +he looked narrowly; and there he was. + +Hippias's brethren regarded him with eyes that plainly said they wished +he had remained there. Sir Austin, however, drew forth his note-book, +and jotted down a reflection. A composer of aphorisms can pluck blossoms +even from a razor-crop. Was not Hippias's dream the very counterpart of +Richard's position? He, had he looked narrowly, might have taken the +clear path: he, too, had been making dainty steps till he was surrounded +by the grinning blades. And from that text Sir Austin preached to his +son when they were alone. Little Clare was still too unwell to be +permitted to attend the dessert, and father and son were soon closeted +together. + +It was a strange meeting. They seemed to have been separated so long. +The father took his son's hand; they sat without a word passing between +them. Silence said most. The boy did not understand his father: his +father frequently thwarted him: at times he thought his father foolish: +but that paternal pressure of his hand was eloquent to him of how warmly +he was beloved. He tried once or twice to steal his hand away, conscious +it was melting him. The spirit of his pride, and old rebellion, +whispered him to be hard, unbending, resolute. Hard he had entered his +father's study: hard he had met his father's eyes. He could not meet +them now. His father sat beside him gently; with a manner that was +almost meekness, so he loved this boy. The poor gentleman's lips moved. +He was praying internally to God for him. + +By degrees an emotion awoke in the boy's bosom. Love is that blessed +wand which wins the waters from the hardness of the heart. Richard +fought against it, for the dignity of old rebellion. The tears would +come; hot and struggling over the dams of pride. Shamefully fast they +began to fall. He could no longer conceal them, or check the sobs. Sir +Austin drew him nearer and nearer, till the beloved head was on his +breast. + +An hour afterwards, Adrian Harley, Austin Wentworth, and Algernon +Feverel were summoned to the baronet's study. + +Adrian came last. There was a style of affable omnipotence about the +wise youth as he slung himself into a chair, and made an arch of the +points of his fingers, through which to gaze on his blundering +kinsmen. Careless as one may be whose sagacity has foreseen, and +whose benevolent efforts have forestalled, the point of danger at +the threshold, Adrian crossed his legs, and only intruded on their +introductory remarks so far as to hum half audibly at intervals-- + + "Ripton and Richard were two pretty men," + +in parody of the old ballad. Young Richard's red eyes, and the baronet's +ruffled demeanour, told him that an explanation had taken place, and a +reconciliation. That was well. The baronet would now pay cheerfully. +Adrian summed and considered these matters, and barely listened when the +baronet called attention to what he had to say: which was elaborately to +inform all present, what all present very well knew, that a rick had +been fired, that his son was implicated as an accessory to the fact, +that the perpetrator was now imprisoned, and that Richard's family were, +as it seemed to him, bound in honour to do their utmost to effect the +man's release. + +Then the baronet stated that he had himself been down to Belthorpe, his +son likewise: and that he had found every disposition in Blaize to meet +his wishes. + +The lamp which ultimately was sure to be lifted up to illumine the +acts of this secretive race began slowly to dispread its rays; and, +as statement followed statement, they saw that all had known of the +business: that all had been down to Belthorpe: all save the wise +youth Adrian, who, with due deference and a sarcastic shrug, +objected to the proceeding, as putting them in the hands of the man +Blaize. His wisdom shone forth in an oration so persuasive and +aphoristic that had it not been based on a plea against honour, it +would have made Sir Austin waver. But its basis was expediency, and +the baronet had a better aphorism of his own to confute him with. + +"Expediency is man's wisdom, Adrian Harley. Doing right is God's." + +Adrian curbed his desire to ask Sir Austin whether an attempt to +counteract the just working of the law was doing right. The direct +application of an aphorism was unpopular at Raynham. + +"I am to understand then," said he, "that Blaize consents not to +press the prosecution." + +"Of course he won't," Algernon remarked. "Confound him! he'll have +his money, and what does he want besides?" + +"These agricultural gentleman are delicate customers to deal with. +However, if he really consents"---- + +"I have his promise," said the baronet, fondling his son. + +Young Richard looked up to his father, as if he wished to speak. He +said nothing, and Sir Austin took it as a mute reply to his +caresses, and caressed him the more. Adrian perceived a reserve in +the boy's manner, and as he was not quite satisfied that his chief +should suppose him to have been the only idle, and not the most +acute and vigilant member of the family, he commenced a +cross-examination of him by asking who had last spoken with the +tenant of Belthorpe? + +"I think I saw him last," murmured Richard, and relinquished his +father's hand. + +Adrian fastened on his prey. "And left him with a distinct and +satisfactory assurance of his amicable intentions?" + +"No," said Richard. + +"Not?" the Feverels joined in astounded chorus. + +Richard sidled away from his father, and repeated a shamefaced "No." + +"Was he hostile?" inquired Adrian, smoothing his palms, and smiling. + +"Yes," the boy confessed. + +Here was quite another view of their position. Adrian, generally +patient of results, triumphed strongly at having evoked it, and +turned upon Austin Wentworth, reproving him for inducing the boy to +go down to Belthorpe. Austin looked grieved. He feared that Richard +had failed in his good resolve. + +"I thought it his duty to go," he observed. + +"It was!" said the baronet, emphatically. + +"And you see what comes of it, sir," Adrian struck in. "These +agricultural gentlemen, I repeat, are delicate customers to deal +with. For my part I would prefer being in the hands of a policeman. +We are decidedly collared by Blaize. What were his words, Ricky? +Give it in his own Doric." + +"He said he would transport Tom Bakewell." + +Adrian smoothed his palms, and smiled again. Then they could afford +to defy Mr. Blaize, he informed them significantly, and made once +more a mysterious allusion to the Punic elephant, bidding his +relatives be at peace. They were attaching, in his opinion, too much +importance to Richard's complicity. The man was a fool, and a very +extraordinary arsonite, to have an accomplice at all. It was a thing +unknown in the annals of rick-burning. But one would be severer than +law itself to say that a boy of fourteen had instigated to crime a +full-grown man. At that rate the boy was "father of the man" with a +vengeance, and one might hear next that "the baby was father of the +boy." They would find common sense a more benevolent ruler than +poetical metaphysics. + +When he had done, Austin, with his customary directness, asked him +what he meant. + +"I confess, Adrian," said the baronet, hearing him expostulate with +Austin's stupidity, "I for one am at a loss. I have heard that this +man, Bakewell, chooses voluntarily not to inculpate my son. Seldom +have I heard anything that so gratified me. It is a view of innate +nobleness in the rustic's character which many a gentleman might +take example from. We are bound to do our utmost for the man." And, +saying that he should pay a second visit to Belthorpe, to inquire +into the reasons for the farmer's sudden exposition of vindictiveness, +Sir Austin rose. + +Before he left the room, Algernon asked Richard if the farmer had +vouchsafed any reasons, and the boy then spoke of the tampering with +the witnesses, and the Bantam's "Not upon oath!" which caused Adrian +to choke with laughter. Even the baronet smiled at so cunning a +distinction as that involved in swearing a thing, and not swearing +it upon oath. + +"How little," he exclaimed, "does one yeoman know another! To +elevate a distinction into a difference is the natural action of +their minds. I will point that out to Blaize. He shall see that the +idea is native born." + +Richard saw his father go forth. Adrian, too, was ill at ease. + +"This trotting down to Belthorpe spoils all," said he. "The affair +would pass over to-morrow--Blaize has no witnesses. The old rascal +is only standing out for more money." + +"No, he isn't," Richard corrected him. "It's not that. I'm sure he +believes his witnesses have been tampered with, as he calls it." + +"What if they have, boy?" Adrian put it boldly. "The ground is cut +from under his feet." + +"Blaize told me that if my father would give his word there had been +nothing of the sort, he would take it. My father will give his +word." + +"Then," said Adrian, "you had better stop him from going down." + +Austin looked at Adrian keenly, and questioned him whether he +thought the farmer was justified in his suspicions. The wise youth +was not to be entrapped. He had only been given to understand that +the witnesses were tolerably unstable, and, like the Bantam, ready +to swear lustily, but not upon the Book. How given to understand, he +chose not to explain, but he reiterated that the chief should not be +allowed to go down to Belthorpe. + +Sir Austin was in the lane leading to the farm when he heard steps +of some one running behind him. It was dark, and he shook off the +hand that laid hold of his cloak, roughly, not recognizing his son. + +"It's I, sir," said Richard panting. "Pardon me. You mustn't go in +there." + +"Why not?" said the baronet, putting his arm about him. + +"Not now," continued the boy. "I will tell you all to-night. I must +see the farmer myself. It was my fault, sir. I--I lied to him--the +Liar must eat his Lie. Oh, forgive me for disgracing you, sir. I did +it--I hope I did it to save Tom Bakewell. Let me go in alone, and +speak the truth." + +"Go, and I will wait for you here," said his father. + +The wind that bowed the old elms, and shivered the dead leaves in +the air, had a voice and a meaning for the baronet during that +half-hour's lonely pacing up and down under the darkness, awaiting +his boy's return. The solemn gladness of his heart gave nature a +tongue. Through the desolation flying overhead--the wailing of the +Mother of Plenty across the bare-swept land--he caught intelligible +signs of the beneficent order of the universe, from a heart newly +confirmed in its grasp of the principle of human goodness, as +manifested in the dear child who had just left him; confirmed in its +belief in the ultimate victory of good within us, without which +nature has neither music nor meaning, and is rock, stone, tree, and +nothing more. + +In the dark, the dead leaves beating on his face, he had a word for +his note-book: "There is for the mind but one grasp of happiness: +from that uppermost pinnacle of wisdom, whence we see that this +world is well designed." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF THE BAKEWELL COMEDY IS CLOSED IN A LETTER + + +Of all the chief actors in the Bakewell Comedy, Master Ripton +Thompson awaited the fearful morning which was to decide Tom's fate, +in dolefullest mood, and suffered the gravest mental terrors. +Adrian, on parting with him, had taken casual occasion to speak of +the position of the criminal in modern Europe, assuring him that +International Treaty now did what Universal Empire had aforetime +done, and that among Atlantic barbarians now, as among the Scythians +of old, an offender would find precarious refuge and an emissary +haunting him. + +In the paternal home, under the roofs of Law, and removed from the +influence of his conscienceless young chief, the staggering nature +of the act he had put his hand to, its awful felonious aspect, +overwhelmed Ripton. He saw it now for the first time. "Why, it's +next to murder!" he cried out to his amazed soul, and wandered about +the house with a prickly skin. Thoughts of America, and commencing +life afresh as an innocent gentleman, had crossed his disordered +brain. He wrote to his friend Richard, proposing to collect +disposable funds, and embark, in case of Tom's breaking his word, or +of accidental discovery. He dared not confide the secret to his +family, as his leader had sternly enjoined him to avoid any weakness +of that kind; and, being by nature honest and communicative, the +restriction was painful, and melancholy fell upon the boy. Mama +Thompson attributed it to love. The daughters of parchment rallied +him concerning Miss Clare Forey. His hourly letters to Raynham, and +silence as to everything and everybody there, his nervousness, and +unwonted propensity to sudden inflammation of the cheeks, were set +down for sure signs of the passion. Miss Letitia Thompson, the +pretty and least parchmenty one, destined by her Papa for the heir +of Raynham, and perfectly aware of her brilliant future, up to which +she had, since Ripton's departure, dressed and grimaced, and studied +cadences (the latter with such success, though not yet fifteen, that +she languished to her maid, and melted the small factotum +footman)--Miss Letty, whose insatiable thirst for intimations about +the young heir Ripton could not satisfy, tormented him daily in +revenge, and once, quite unconsciously, gave the lad a fearful turn; +for after dinner, when Mr. Thompson read the paper by the fire, +preparatory to sleeping at his accustomed post, and Mama Thompson +and her submissive female brood sat tasking the swift intricacies of +the needle, and emulating them with the tongue, Miss Letty stole +behind Ripton's chair, and introduced between him and his book the +Latin initial letter, large and illuminated, of the theme she +supposed to be absorbing him, as it did herself. The unexpected +vision of this accusing Captain of the Alphabet, this resplendent +and haunting A, fronting him bodily, threw Ripton straight back in +his chair, while Guilt, with her ancient indecision what colours to +assume on detection, flew from red to white, from white to red, +across his fallen chaps. Letty laughed triumphantly. Amor, the word +she had in mind, certainly has a connection with Arson. + +But the delivery of a letter into Master Ripton's hands, furnished +her with other and likelier appearances to study. For scarce had +Ripton plunged his head into the missive than he gave way to violent +transports, such as the healthy-minded little damsel, for all her +languishing cadences, deemed she really could express were a +downright declaration to be made to her. The boy did not stop at +table. Quickly recollecting the presence of his family, he rushed to +his own room. And now the girl's ingenuity was taxed to gain +possession of that letter. She succeeded, of course, she being a +huntress with few scruples and the game unguarded. With the eyes of +amazement she read this foreign matter: + + "Dear Ripton,--If Tom had been committed I would have shot + old Blaize. Do you know my father was behind us that night + when Clare saw the ghost and heard all we said before the fire + burst out. It is no use trying to conceal anything from him. + Well as you are in an awful state I will tell you all about it. + After you left Ripton I had a conversation with Austin and he + persuaded me to go down to old Blaize and ask him to help off + Tom. I went, for I would have done anything for Tom after what + he said to Austin and I defied the old churl to do his worst. + Then he said if my father paid the money and nobody had tampered + with his witnesses he would not mind if Tom did get off and he + had his chief witness in called the Bantam very like his master + I think and the Bantam began winking at me tremendjously as you + say, and said he had sworn he saw Tom Bakewell but not upon + oath. He meant not on the Bible. He could swear to it but not + on the Bible. I burst out laughing and you should have seen + the rage old Blaize was in. It was splendid fun. Then we had a + consultation at home Austin Rady my father Uncle Algernon who + has come down to us again and your friend in prosperity and + adversity R. D. F. My father said he would go down to old Blaize + and give him the word of a gentleman we had not tampered with + his witnesses and when he was gone we were all talking and Rady + says he must not see the farmer. I am as certain as I live that + it was Rady bribed the Bantam. Well I ran and caught up with my + father and told him not to go in to old Blaize but I would and + eat my words and tell him the truth. He waited for me in the + lane. Never mind what passed between me and old Blaize. He + made me beg and pray of him not to press it against Tom and + then to complete it he brought in a little girl a niece of his and + says to me she's your best friend after all and told me to thank + her. A little girl twelve years of age. What business had she + to mix herself up in my matters. Depend upon it Ripton wherever + there is mischief there are girls I think. She had the insolence + to notice my face, and ask me not to be unhappy. I was polite + of course but I would not look at her. Well the morning came + and Tom was had up before Sir Miles Papworth. It was Sir Miles + gout gave us the time or Tom would have been had up before we + could do anything. Adrian did not want me to go but my father + said I should accompany him and held my hand all the time. I + shall be careful about getting into these scrapes again. When + you have done anything honourable you do not mind but getting + among policemen and magistrates makes you ashamed of yourself. + Sir Miles was very attentive to my father and me and dead against + Tom. We sat beside him and Tom was brought in. Sir Miles told + my father that if there was one thing that showed a low villain + it was rick-burning. What do you think of that. I looked him + straight in the face and he said to me he was doing me a service + in getting Tom committed and clearing the country of such fellows + and Rady began laughing. I hate Rady. My father said his son + was not in haste to inherit and have estates of his own to watch + and Sir Miles laughed too. I thought we were discovered at first. + Then they began the examination of Tom. The Tinker was the first + witness and he proved that Tom had spoken against old Blaize and + said something about burning his rick. I wished I had stood in the + lane to Bursley with him alone. Our country lawyer we engaged + for Tom cross-questioned him and then he said he was not ready + to swear to the exact words that had passed between him and + Tom. I should think not. Then came another who swore he had + seen Tom lurking about the farmer's grounds that night. Then + came the Bantam and I saw him look at Rady. I was tremendjously + excited and my father kept pressing my hand. Just fancy my being + brought to feel that a word from that fellow would make me + miserable for life and he must perjure himself to help me. That + comes of giving way to passion. My father says when we do that + we are calling in the devil as doctor. Well the Bantam was told + to state what he had seen and the moment he began Rady who was + close by me began to shake and he was laughing I knew though + his face was as grave as Sir Miles. You never heard such a + rigmarole but I could not laugh. He said he thought he was + certain he had seen somebody by the rick and it was Tom Bakewell + who was the only man he knew who had a grudge against Farmer + Blaize and if the object had been a little bigger he would not + mind swearing to Tom and would swear to him for he was dead + certain it was Tom only what he saw looked smaller and it was + pitch-dark at the time. He was asked what time it was he saw + the person steal away from the rick and then he began to scratch + his head and said supper-time. Then they asked what time he had + supper and he said nine o'clock by the clock and we proved that + at nine o'clock Tom was drinking in the ale-house with the + Tinker at Bursley and Sir Miles swore and said he was afraid + he could not commit Tom and when he heard that Tom looked up + at me and I say he is a noble fellow and no one shall sneer at Tom + while I live. Mind that. Well Sir Miles asked us to dine with + him and Tom was safe and I am to have him and educate him if I + like for my servant and I will. And I will give money to his + mother and make her rich and he shall never repent he knew me. + I say Rip. The Bantam must have seen _me_. It was when I went + to stick in the lucifers. As we were all going home from Sir + Miles's at night he has lots of redfaced daughters but I did not + dance with them though they had music and were full of fun and + I did not care to I was so delighted and almost let it out. When + we left and rode home Rady said to my father the Bantam was not + such a fool as he was thought and my father said one must be in + a state of great personal exaltation to apply that epithet to + any man and Rady shut his mouth and I gave my pony a clap of the + heel for joy. I think my father suspects what Rady did and does + not approve of it. And he need not have done it after all and + might have spoilt it. I have been obliged to order him not to + call me Ricky for he stops short at Rick so that everybody + knows what he means. My dear Austin is going to South America. + My pony is in capital condition. My father is the cleverest and + best man in the world. Clare is a little better. I am quite happy. + I hope we shall meet soon my dear Old Rip and we will not get + into any more tremendjous scrapes will we.--I remain, Your sworn + friend, + + "RICHARD DORIA FEVEREL." + + "_P.S._ I am to have a nice River Yacht. Good-bye, Rip. Mind you + learn to box. Mind you are not to show this to any of your friends + on pain of my displeasure. + + "N.B. Lady B. was so angry when I told her that I had not come to + her before. She would do anything in the world for me. I like her + next best to my father and Austin. Good-bye old Rip." + +Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this ingenuous epistle, +where the laws of punctuation were so disregarded, resigned it to +one of the pockets of her brother Ripton's best jacket, deeply +smitten with the careless composer. And so ended the last act of the +Bakewell Comedy, on which the curtain closes with Sir Austin's +pointing out to his friends the beneficial action of the System in +it from beginning to end. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE BLOSSOMING SEASON + + +Laying of ghosts is a public duty, and as the mystery of the +apparition that had frightened little Clare was never solved on the +stage of events at Raynham, where dread walked the Abbey, let us go +behind the scenes a moment. Morally superstitious as the baronet +was, the character of his mind was opposed to anything like +spiritual agency in the affairs of men, and, when the matter was +made clear to him, it shook off a weight of weakness and restored +his mental balance; so that from this time he went about more like +the man he had once been, grasping more thoroughly the great truth, +that This World is well designed. Nay, he could laugh on hearing +Adrian, in reminiscence of the ill luck of one of the family +members at its first manifestation, call the uneasy spirit, +Algernon's Leg. + +Mrs. Doria was outraged. She maintained that her child had seen----. +Not to believe in it was almost to rob her of her personal property. +After satisfactorily studying his old state of mind in her, Sir +Austin, moved by pity, took her aside one day and showed her that +her Ghost could write words in the flesh. It was a letter from the +unhappy lady who had given Richard birth,--brief cold lines, simply +telling him his house would be disturbed by her no more. Cold lines, +but penned by what heart-broken abnegation, and underlying them with +what anguish of soul! Like most who dealt with him, Lady Feverel +thought her husband a man fatally stern and implacable, and she +acted as silly creatures will act when they fancy they see a fate +against them: she neither petitioned for her right nor claimed it: +she tried to ease her heart's yearning by stealth, and now she +renounced all. Mrs. Doria, not wanting in the family tenderness and +softness, shuddered at him for accepting the sacrifice so +composedly: but he bade her to think how distracting to this boy +would be the sight of such relations between mother and father. A +few years, and as man he should know, and judge, and love her. "Let +this be her penance, not inflicted by me!" Mrs. Doria bowed to the +System for another, not opining when it would be her turn to bow for +herself. + +Further behind the scenes we observe Rizzio and Mary grown older, +much disenchanted: she discrowned, dishevelled,--he with gouty +fingers on a greasy guitar. The Diaper Sandoe of promise lends his +pen for small hires. His fame has sunk; his bodily girth has +sensibly increased. What he can do, and will do, is still his theme; +meantime the juice of the juniper is in requisition, and it seems +that those small hires cannot be performed without it. Returning +from her wretched journey to her wretcheder home, the lady had to +listen to a mild reproof from easy-going Diaper,--a reproof so mild +that he couched it in blank verse: for, seldom writing metrically +now, he took to talking it. With a fluent sympathetic tear, he +explained to her that she was damaging her interests by these +proceedings; nor did he shrink from undertaking to elucidate +wherefore. Pluming a smile upon his succulent mouth, he told her +that the poverty she lived in was utterly unbefitting her gentle +nurture, and that he had reason to believe--could assure her--that +an annuity was on the point of being granted her by her husband. And +Diaper broke his bud of a smile into full flower as he delivered +this information. She learnt that he had applied to her husband for +money. It is hard to have one's prop of self-respect cut away just +when we are suffering a martyr's agony at the stake. There was a +five minutes tragic colloquy in the recesses behind the +scenes,--totally tragic to Diaper, who had fondly hoped to bask in +the warm sun of that annuity, and re-emerge from his state of grub. +The lady then wrote the letter Sir Austin held open to his sister. +The atmosphere behind the scenes is not wholesome, so, having laid +the Ghost, we will return and face the curtain. + +That infinitesimal dose of THE WORLD which Master Ripton Thompson +had furnished to the System with such instantaneous and surprising +effect was considered by Sir Austin to have worked well, and to be +for the time quite sufficient, so that Ripton did not receive a +second invitation to Raynham, and Richard had no special intimate of +his own age to rub his excessive vitality against, and wanted none. +His hands were full enough with Tom Bakewell. Moreover, his father +and he were heart in heart. The boy's mind was opening, and turned +to his father affectionately reverent. At this period, when the +young savage grows into higher influences, the faculty of worship is +foremost in him. At this period Jesuits will stamp the future of +their chargeling flocks; and all who bring up youth by a System, and +watch it, know that it is the malleable moment. Boys possessing any +mental or moral force to give them a tendency, then predestinate +their careers; or, if under supervision, take the impress that is +given them: not often to cast it off, and seldom to cast it off +altogether. + +In Sir Austin's Note-book was written: "Between Simple Boyhood and +Adolescence--The Blossoming Season--on the threshold of Puberty, +there is one Unselfish Hour--say, Spiritual Seed-time." + +He took care that good seed should be planted in Richard, and that +the most fruitful seed for a youth, namely, Example, should be of a +kind to germinate in him the love of every form of nobleness. + +"I am only striving to make my son a Christian," he said, answering +them who persisted in expostulating with the System. And to these +instructions he gave an aim: "First be virtuous," he told his son, +"and then serve your country with heart and soul." The youth was +instructed to cherish an ambition for statesmanship, and he and his +father read history and the speeches of British orators to some +purpose; for one day Sir Austin found him leaning cross-legged, and +with his hand to his chin, against a pedestal supporting the bust of +Chatham, contemplating the hero of our Parliament, his eyes +streaming with tears. + +People said the baronet carried the principle of Example so far that +he only retained his boozing dyspeptic brother Hippias at Raynham in +order to exhibit to his son the woeful retribution nature wreaked +upon a life of indulgence; poor Hippias having now become a walking +complaint. This was unjust, but there is no doubt he made use of +every illustration to disgust or encourage his son that his +neighbourhood afforded him, and did not spare his brother, for whom +Richard entertained a contempt in proportion to his admiration of +his father, and was for flying into penitential extremes which Sir +Austin had to soften. + +The boy prayed with his father morning and night. + +"How is it, sir," he said one night, "I can't get Tom Bakewell to +pray?" + +"Does he refuse?" Sir Austin asked. + +"He seems to be ashamed to," Richard replied. "He wants to know what +is the good? and I don't know what to tell him." + +"I'm afraid it has gone too far with him," said Sir Austin, "and +until he has had some deep sorrows he will not find the divine want +of Prayer. Strive, my son, when you represent the people, to provide +for their education. He feels everything now through a dull +impenetrable rind. Culture is half-way to heaven. Tell him, my son, +should he ever be brought to ask how he may know the efficacy of +Prayer, and that his prayer will be answered, tell him (he quoted +THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP): + +"'Who rises from Prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.'" + +"I will, sir," said Richard, and went to sleep happy. + +Happy in his father and in himself, the youth now lived. Conscience +was beginning to inhabit him, and he carried some of the freightage +known to men; though in so crude a form that it overweighed him, now +on this side, now on that. + +The wise youth Adrian observed these further progressionary +developments in his pupil, soberly cynical. He was under Sir +Austin's interdict not to banter him, and eased his acrid humours +inspired by the sight of a felonious young rick-burner turning +saint, by grave affectations of sympathy and extreme accuracy in +marking the not widely-distant dates of his various changes. The +Bread-and-water phase lasted a fortnight: the Vegetarian (an +imitation of his cousin Austin), a little better than a month: the +religious, somewhat longer: the religious-propagandist (when he was +for converting the heathen of Lobourne and Bursley, and the +domestics of the Abbey, including Tom Bakewell), longer still, and +hard to bear;--he tried to convert Adrian! All the while Tom was +being exercised like a raw recruit. Richard had a drill-sergeant +from the nearest barracks down for him, to give him a proper pride +in himself, and marched him to and fro with immense satisfaction, +and nearly broke his heart trying to get the round-shouldered rustic +to take in the rudiments of letters: for the boy had unbounded hopes +for Tom, as a hero in grain. + +Richard's pride also was cast aside. He affected to be, and really +thought he was, humble. Whereupon Adrian, as by accident, imparted +to him the fact that men were animals, and he an animal with the +rest of them. + +"_I_ an animal!" cried Richard in scorn, and for weeks he was as +troubled by this rudiment of self-knowledge as Tom by his letters. +Sir Austin had him instructed in the wonders of anatomy, to restore +his self-respect. + +SEED-TIME passed thus smoothly, and adolescence came on, and his +cousin Clare felt what it was to be of an opposite sex to him. She +too was growing, but nobody cared how she grew. Outwardly even her +mother seemed absorbed in the sprouting of the green off-shoot of +the Feverel tree, and Clare was his handmaiden, little marked by +him. + +Lady Blandish honestly loved the boy. She would tell him: "If I had +been a girl, I would have had you for my husband." And he with the +frankness of his years would reply: "And how do you know I would +have had you?" causing her to laugh and call him a silly boy, for +had he not heard her say she would have had him? Terrible words, he +knew not then the meaning of! + +"You don't read your father's Book," she said. Her own copy was +bound in purple velvet, gilt-edged, as decorative ladies like to +have holier books, and she carried it about with her, and quoted it, +and (Adrian remarked to Mrs. Doria) hunted a noble quarry, and +deliberately aimed at him therewith, which Mrs. Doria chose to +believe, and regretted her brother would not be on his guard. + +"See here," said Lady Blandish, pressing an almondy finger-nail to +one of the Aphorisms, which instanced how age and adversity must +clay-enclose us ere we can effectually resist the magnetism of any +human creature in our path. "Can you understand it, child?" + +Richard informed her that when she read he could. + +"Well, then, my squire," she touched his cheek and ran her fingers +through his hair, "learn as quick as you can not to be all hither +and yon with a hundred different attractions, as I was before I met +a wise man to guide me." + +"Is my father very wise?" Richard asked. + +"I think so," the lady emphasized her individual judgment. + +"Do you----" Richard broke forth, and was stopped by a beating of +his heart. + +"Do I--what?" she calmly queried. + +"I was going to say, do you--I mean, I love him so much." + +Lady Blandish smiled and slightly coloured. + +They frequently approached this theme, and always retreated from it; +always with the same beating of heart to Richard, accompanied by the +sense of a growing mystery, which, however, did not as yet generally +disturb him. + +Life was made very pleasant to him at Raynham, as it was part of Sir +Austin's principle of education that his boy should be thoroughly +joyous and happy; and whenever Adrian sent in a satisfactory report +of his pupil's advancement, which he did pretty liberally, diversions +were planned, just as prizes are given to diligent schoolboys, and +Richard was supposed to have all his desires gratified while he +attended to his studies. The System flourished. Tall, strong, +bloomingly healthy, he took the lead of his companions on land and +water, and had more than one bondsman in his service besides Ripton +Thompson--the boy without a Destiny! Perhaps the boy with a Destiny +was growing up a trifle too conscious of it. His generosity to his +occasional companions was princely, but was exercised something too +much in the manner of a prince; and, notwithstanding his contempt for +baseness, he would overlook that more easily than an offence to his +pride, which demanded an utter servility when it had once been rendered +susceptible. If Richard had his followers he had also his feuds. The +Papworths were as subservient as Ripton, but young Ralph Morton, +the nephew of Mr. Morton, and a match for Richard in numerous promising +qualities, comprising the noble science of fisticuffs, this youth spoke +his mind too openly, and moreover would not be snubbed. There was no +middle course for Richard's comrades between high friendship or +absolute slavery. He was deficient in those cosmopolite habits and +feelings which enable boys and men to hold together without caring +much for each other; and, like every insulated mortal, he attributed +the deficiency, of which he was quite aware, to the fact of his +possessing a superior nature. Young Ralph was a lively talker: +therefore, argued Richard's vanity, he had no intellect. He was +affable: therefore he was frivolous. The women liked him: therefore +he was a butterfly. In fine, young Ralph was popular, and our superb +prince, denied the privilege of despising, ended by detesting him. + +Early in the days of their contention for leadership, Richard saw +the absurdity of affecting to scorn his rival. Ralph was an Eton +boy, and hence, being robust, a swimmer and a cricketer. A swimmer +and a cricketer is nowhere to be scorned in youth's republic. +Finding that manoeuvre would not do, Richard was prompted once or +twice to entrench himself behind his greater wealth and his +position; but he soon abandoned that also, partly because his +chilliness to ridicule told him he was exposing himself, and chiefly +that his heart was too chivalrous. And so he was dragged into the +lists by Ralph, and experienced the luck of champions. For cricket, +and for diving, Ralph bore away the belt: Richard's middle-stump +tottered before his ball, and he could seldom pick up more than +three eggs under water to Ralph's half-dozen. He was beaten, too, in +jumping and running. Why will silly mortals strive to the painful +pinnacles of championship? Or why, once having reached them, not +have the magnanimity and circumspection to retire into private life +immediately? Stung by his defeats, Richard sent one of his dependent +Papworths to Poer Hall, with a challenge to Ralph Barthrop Morton; +matching himself to swim across the Thames and back, once, twice, or +thrice, within a less time than he, Ralph Barthrop Morton, would +require for the undertaking. It was accepted, and a reply returned, +equally formal in the trumpeting of Christian names, wherein Ralph +Barthrop Morton acknowledged the challenge of Richard Doria Feverel, +and was his man. The match came off on a midsummer morning, under +the direction of Captain Algernon. Sir Austin was a spectator from +the cover of a plantation by the river-side, unknown to his son, +and, to the scandal of her sex, Lady Blandish accompanied the +baronet. He had invited her attendance, and she, obeying her frank +nature, and knowing what THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP said about prudes, at +once agreed to view the match, pleasing him mightily. For was not +here a woman worthy the Golden Ages of the world? one who could look +upon man as a creature divinely made, and look with a mind neither +tempted, nor taunted, by the Serpent! Such a woman was rare. Sir +Austin did not discompose her by uttering his praises. She was +conscious of his approval only in an increased gentleness of manner, +and something in his voice and communications, as if he were +speaking to a familiar, a very high compliment from him. While the +lads were standing ready for the signal to plunge from the steep +decline of greensward into the shining water, Sir Austin called upon +her to admire their beauty, and she did, and even advanced her head +above his shoulder delicately. In so doing, and just as the start +was given, a bonnet became visible to Richard. Young Ralph was +heels in air before he moved, and then he dropped like lead. He was +beaten by several lengths. + +The result of the match was unaccountable to all present, and +Richard's friends unanimously pressed him to plead a false start. +But though the youth, with full confidence in his better style and +equal strength, had backed himself heavily against his rival, and +had lost his little river-yacht to Ralph, he would do nothing of the +sort. It was the Bonnet had beaten him, not Ralph. The Bonnet, +typical of the mystery that caused his heart those violent +palpitations, was his dear, detestable enemy. + +And now, as he progressed from mood to mood, his ambition turned +towards a field where Ralph could not rival him, and where the +Bonnet was etherealized, and reigned glorious mistress. A check to +the pride of a boy will frequently divert him to the path where lie +his subtlest powers. Richard gave up his companions, servile or +antagonistic: he relinquished the material world to young Ralph, and +retired into himself, where he was growing to be lord of kingdoms: +where Beauty was his handmaid, and History his minister, and Time +his ancient harper, and sweet Romance his bride; where he walked in +a realm vaster and more gorgeous than the great Orient, peopled with +the heroes that have been. For there is no princely wealth, and no +loftiest heritage, to equal this early one that is made bountifully +common to so many, when the ripening blood has put a spark to the +imagination, and the earth is seen through rosy mists of a thousand +fresh-awakened nameless and aimless desires; panting for bliss and +taking it as it comes; making of any sight or sound, perforce of the +enchantment they carry with them, a key to infinite, because +innocent, pleasure. The passions then are gambolling cubs; not the +ravaging gluttons they grow to. They have their teeth and their +talons, but they neither tear nor bite. They are in counsel and +fellowship with the quickened heart and brain. The whole sweet +system moves to music. + +Something akin to the indications of a change in the spirit of his +son, which were now seen, Sir Austin had marked down to be expected, +as due to his plan. The blushes of the youth, his long vigils, his +clinging to solitude, his abstraction, and downcast but not +melancholy air, were matters for rejoicing to the prescient +gentleman. "For it comes," said he to Dr. Clifford of Lobourne, +after consulting him medically on the youth's behalf and being +assured of his soundness, "it comes of a thoroughly sane condition. +The blood is healthy, the mind virtuous: neither instigates the +other to evil, and both are perfecting toward the flower of manhood. +If he reach that pure--in the untainted fulness and perfection of +his natural powers--I am indeed a happy father! But one thing he +will owe to me: that at one period of his life he knew paradise, and +could read God's handwriting on the earth! Now those abominations +whom you call precocious boys--your little pet monsters, +doctor!--and who can wonder that the world is what it is? when it is +full of them--as they will have no divine time to look back upon in +their own lives, how can they believe in innocence and goodness, or +be other than sons of selfishness and the Devil? But my boy," and +the baronet dropped his voice to a key that was touching to hear, +"my boy, if he fall, will fall from an actual region of purity. He +dare not be a sceptic as to that. Whatever his darkness, he will +have the guiding light of a memory behind him. So much is secure." + +To talk nonsense, or poetry, or the dash between the two, in a tone +of profound sincerity, and to enunciate solemn discordances with +received opinion so seriously as to convey the impression of a +spiritual insight, is the peculiar gift by which monomaniacs, having +first persuaded themselves, to contrive to influence their +neighbours, and through them to make conquest of a good half of the +world, for good or for ill. Sir Austin had this gift. He spoke as if +he saw the truth, and, persisting in it so long, he was accredited +by those who did not understand him, and silenced them that did. + +"We shall see," was all the argument left to Dr. Clifford, and other +unbelievers. + +So far certainly the experiment had succeeded. A comelier, braver, +better boy was nowhere to be met. His promise was undeniable. The +vessel, too, though it lay now in harbour and had not yet been +proved by the buffets of the elements on the great ocean, had made a +good trial trip, and got well through stormy weather, as the records +of the Bakewell Comedy witnessed to at Raynham. No augury could be +hopefuller. The Fates must indeed be hard, the Ordeal severe, the +Destiny dark, that could destroy so bright a Spring! But, bright as +it was, the baronet relaxed nothing of his vigilant supervision. He +said to his intimates: "Every act, every fostered inclination, +almost every thought in this Blossoming Season, bears its seed for +the Future. The living Tree now requires incessant watchfulness." +And, acting up to his light, Sir Austin did watch. The youth +submitted to an examination every night before he sought his bed; +professedly to give an account of his studies, but really to +recapitulate his moral experiences of the day. He could do so, for +he was pure. Any wildness in him that his father noted, any +remoteness or richness of fancy in his expressions, was set down as +incidental to the Blossoming Season. There is nothing like a theory +for binding the wise. Sir Austin, despite his rigid watch and ward, +knew less of his son than the servant of his household. And he was +deaf, as well as blind. Adrian thought it his duty to tell him that +the youth was consuming paper. Lady Blandish likewise hinted at his +mooning propensities. Sir Austin from his lofty watch-tower of the +System had foreseen it, he said. But when he came to hear that the +youth was writing poetry, his wounded heart had its reasons for +being much disturbed. + +"Surely," said Lady Blandish, "you knew he scribbled?" + +"A very different thing from writing poetry," said the baronet. "No +Feverel has ever written poetry." + +"I don't think it's a sign of degeneracy," the lady remarked. "He +rhymes very prettily to me." + +A London phrenologist, and a friendly Oxford Professor of poetry, +quieted Sir Austin's fears. + +The phrenologist said he was totally deficient in the imitative +faculty; and the Professor, that he was equally so in the rhythmic, +and instanced several consoling false quantities in a few effusions +submitted to him. Added to this, Sir Austin told Lady Blandish that +Richard had, at his best, done what no poet had ever been known to +be capable of doing: he had, with his own hands, and in cold blood, +committed his virgin manuscript to the flames: which made Lady +Blandish sigh forth, "Poor boy!" + +Killing one's darling child is a painful imposition. For a youth in +his Blossoming Season, who fancies himself a poet, to be requested +to destroy his first-born, without a reason (though to pretend a +reason cogent enough to justify the request were a mockery), is a +piece of abhorrent despotism, and Richard's blossoms withered under +it. A strange man had been introduced to him, who traversed and +bisected his skull with sagacious stiff fingers, and crushed his +soul while, in an infallible voice, declaring him the animal he was: +making him feel such an animal! Not only his blossoms withered, his +being seemed to draw in its shoots and twigs. And when, coupled +thereunto (the strange man having departed, his work done), his +father, in his tenderest manner, stated that it would give him +pleasure to see those same precocious, utterly valueless, +scribblings among the cinders, the last remaining mental blossom +spontaneously fell away. Richard's spirit stood bare. He protested +not. Enough that it could be wished! He would not delay a minute in +doing it. Desiring his father to follow him, he went to a drawer in +his room, and from a clean-linen recess, never suspected by Sir +Austin, the secretive youth drew out bundle after bundle: each +neatly tied, named, and numbered: and pitched them into flames. And +so Farewell my young Ambition! and with it farewell all true +confidence between Father and Son. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE MAGNETIC AGE + + +It was now, as Sir Austin had written it down, The Magnetic Age: the +Age of violent attractions, when to hear mention of love is +dangerous, and to see it, a communication of the disease. People at +Raynham were put on their guard by the baronet, and his reputation +for wisdom was severely criticized in consequence of the injunctions +he thought fit to issue through butler and housekeeper down to the +lower household, for the preservation of his son from any visible +symptom of the passion. A footman and two housemaids are believed +to have been dismissed on the report of heavy Benson that they were +in or inclining to the state; upon which an under-cook and a +dairymaid voluntarily threw up their places, averring that "they did +not want no young men, but to have their sex spied after by an old +wretch like that," indicating the ponderous butler, "was a little +too much for a Christian woman," and then they were ungenerous +enough to glance at Benson's well-known marital calamity, hinting +that some men met their deserts. So intolerable did heavy Benson's +espionage become, that Raynham would have grown depopulated of its +womankind had not Adrian interfered, who pointed out to the baronet +what a fearful arm his butler was wielding. Sir Austin acknowledged +it despondently. "It only shows," said he, with a fine spirit of +justice, "how all but impossible it is to legislate where there are +women!" + +"I do not object," he added; "I hope I am too just to object to the +exercise of their natural inclinations. All I ask from them is +discreetness." + +"Ay," said Adrian, whose discreetness was a marvel. + +"No gadding about in couples," continued the baronet, "no kissing in +public. Such occurrences no boy should witness. Whenever people of +both sexes are thrown together, they will be silly; and where they +are high-fed, uneducated, and barely occupied, it must be looked for +as a matter of course. Let it be known that I only require +discreetness." + +Discreetness, therefore, was instructed to reign at the Abbey. Under +Adrian's able tuition the fairest of its domestics acquired that +virtue. + +Discreetness, too, was enjoined to the upper household. Sir Austin, +who had not previously appeared to notice the case of Lobourne's +hopeless curate, now desired Mrs. Doria to interdict, or at least +discourage, his visits, for the appearance of the man was that of an +embodied sigh and groan. + +"Really, Austin!" said Mrs. Doria, astonished to find her brother +more awake than she had supposed, "I have never allowed him to +hope." + +"Let him see it, then," replied the baronet; "let him see it." + +"The man amuses me," said Mrs. Doria. "You know, we have few +amusements here, we inferior creatures. I confess I should like a +barrel-organ better; that reminds one of town and the opera; and +besides, it plays more than one tune. However, since you think my +society bad for him, let him stop away." + +With the self-devotion of a woman she grew patient and sweet the +moment her daughter Clare was spoken of, and the business of her +life in view. Mrs. Doria's maternal heart had betrothed the two +cousins, Richard and Clare; had already beheld them espoused and +fruitful. For this she yielded the pleasures of town; for this she +immured herself at Raynham; for this she bore with a thousand +follies, exactions, inconveniences, things abhorrent to her, and +heaven knows what forms of torture and self-denial, which are +smilingly endured by that greatest of voluntary martyrs--a mother +with a daughter to marry. Mrs. Doria, an amiable widow, had surely +married but for her daughter Clare. The lady's hair no woman could +possess without feeling it her pride. It was the daily theme of her +lady's-maid,--a natural aureole to her head. She was gay, witty, +still physically youthful enough to claim a destiny; and she +sacrificed it to accomplish her daughter's! sacrificed, as with +heroic scissors, hair, wit, gaiety--let us not attempt to enumerate +how much! more than may be said. And she was only one of thousands; +thousands who have no portion of the hero's reward; for he may +reckon on applause, and condolence, and sympathy, and honour; they, +poor slaves! must look for nothing but the opposition of their own +sex and the sneers of ours. O, Sir Austin! had you not been so +blinded, what an Aphorism might have sprung from this point of +observation! Mrs. Doria was coolly told, between sister and brother, +that during the Magnetic Age her daughter's presence at Raynham was +undesirable. Instead of nursing offence, her sole thought was the +mountain of prejudice she had to contend against. She bowed, and +said, Clare wanted sea-air--she had never quite recovered the shock +of that dreadful night. How long, Mrs. Doria wished to know, might +the Peculiar Period be expected to last? + +"That," said Sir Austin, "depends. A year, perhaps, he is entering +on it. I shall be most grieved to lose you, Helen. Clare is now--how +old?" + +"Seventeen." + +"She is marriageable." + +"Marriageable, Austin! at seventeen! don't name such a thing. My +child shall not be robbed of her youth." + +"Our women marry early, Helen." + +"My child shall not!" + +The baronet reflected a moment. He did not wish to lose his sister. + +"As you are of that opinion, Helen," said he, "perhaps we may still +make arrangements to retain you with us. Would you think it +advisable to send Clare--she should know discipline--to some +establishment for a few months?"... + +"To an asylum, Austin?" cried Mrs. Doria, controlling her +indignation as well as she could. + +"To some select superior seminary, Helen. There are such to be +found." + +"Austin!" Mrs. Doria exclaimed, and had to fight with a moisture in +her eyes. "Unjust! absurd!" she murmured. The baronet thought it a +natural proposition that Clare should be a bride or a schoolgirl. + +"I cannot leave my child." Mrs. Doria trembled. "Where she goes, I +go. I am aware that she is only one of our sex, and therefore of no +value to the world, but she is my child. I will see, poor dear, that +you have no cause to complain of her." + +"I thought," Sir Austin remarked, "that you acquiesced in my views +with regard to my son." + +"Yes--generally," said Mrs. Doria, and felt culpable that she had +not before, and could not then, tell her brother that he had set up +an Idol in his house--an Idol of flesh! more retributive and +abominable than wood or brass or gold. But she had bowed to the Idol +too long--she had too entirely bound herself to gain her project by +subserviency. She had, and she dimly perceived it, committed a +greater fault in tactics, in teaching her daughter to bow to the +Idol also. Love of that kind Richard took for tribute. He was +indifferent to Clare's soft eyes. The parting kiss he gave her was +ready and cold as his father could desire. Sir Austin now grew +eloquent to him in laudation of manly pursuits: but Richard thought +his eloquence barren, his attempts at companionship awkward, and all +manly pursuits and aims, life itself, vain and worthless. To what +end? sighed the blossomless youth, and cried aloud, as soon as he +was relieved of his father's society, what was the good of anything? +Whatever he did--whichever path he selected, led back to Raynham. +And whatever he did, however wretched and wayward he showed himself, +only confirmed Sir Austin more and more in the truth of his +previsions. Tom Bakewell, now the youth's groom, had to give the +baronet a report of his young master's proceedings, in common with +Adrian, and while there was no harm to tell, Tom spoke out. "He do +ride like fire every day to Pig's Snout," naming the highest hill in +the neighbourhood, "and stand there and stare, never movin', like a +mad 'un. And then hoam agin all slack as if he'd been beaten in a +race by somebody." + +"There is no woman in that!" mused the baronet. "He would have +ridden back as hard as he went," reflected this profound scientific +humanist, "had there been a woman in it. He would shun vast +expanses, and seek shade, concealment, solitude. The desire for +distances betokens emptiness and undirected hunger: when the heart +is possessed by an image we fly to wood and forest, like the +guilty." + +Adrian's report accused his pupil of an extraordinary access of +cynicism. + +"Exactly," said the baronet. "As I foresaw. At this period an +insatiate appetite is accompanied by a fastidious palate. Nothing +but the quintessences of existence, and those in exhaustless +supplies, will satisfy this craving, which is not to be satisfied! +Hence his bitterness. Life can furnish no food fitting for him. The +strength and purity of his energies have reached to an almost divine +height, and roam through the Inane. Poetry, love, and such-like, are +the drugs earth has to offer to high natures, as she offers to low +ones debauchery. 'Tis a sign, this sourness, that he is subject to +none of the empiricisms that are afloat. Now to keep him clear of +them!" + +The Titans had an easier task in storming Olympus. As yet, however, +it could not be said that Sir Austin's System had failed. On the +contrary, it had reared a youth, handsome, intelligent, well-bred, +and, observed the ladies, with acute emphasis, innocent. Where, they +asked, was such another young man to be found? + +"Oh!" said Lady Blandish to Sir Austin, "if men could give their +hands to women unsoiled--how different would many a marriage be! She +will be a happy girl who calls Richard husband." + +"Happy, indeed!" was the baronet's caustic ejaculation. "But where +shall I meet one equal to him, and his match?" + +"I was innocent when I was a girl," said the lady. + +Sir Austin bowed a reserved opinion. + +"Do you think no girls innocent?" + +Sir Austin gallantly thought them all so. + +"No, that you know they are not," said the lady, stamping. "But they +are more innocent than boys, I am sure." + +"Because of their education, madam. You see now what a youth can be. +Perhaps, when my System is published, or rather--to speak more +humbly--when it is practised, the balance may be restored, and we +shall have virtuous young men." + +"It's too late for poor me to hope for a husband from one of them," +said the lady, pouting and laughing. + +"It is never too late for beauty to waken love," returned the +baronet, and they trifled a little. They were approaching Daphne's +Bower, which they entered, and sat there to taste the coolness of a +descending midsummer day. + +The baronet seemed in a humour for dignified fooling; the lady for +serious converse. + +"I shall believe again in Arthur's knights," she said. "When I was a +girl I dreamed of one." + +"And he was in quest of the San Greal?" + +"If you like." + +"And showed his good taste by turning aside for the more tangible +San Blandish?" + +"Of course you consider it would have been so," sighed the lady, +ruffling. + +"I can only judge by our generation," said Sir Austin, with a bend +of homage. + +The lady gathered her mouth. "Either we are very mighty or you are +very weak." + +"Both, madam." + +"But whatever we are, and if we are bad, bad! we love virtue, and +truth, and lofty souls, in men: and, when we meet those qualities in +them, we are constant, and would die for them--die for them. Ah! you +know men but not women." + +"The knights possessing such distinctions must be young, I presume?" +said Sir Austin. + +"Old, or young!" + +"But if old, they are scarce capable of enterprise?" + +"They are loved for themselves, not for their deeds." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes--ah!" said the lady. "Intellect may subdue women--make slaves +of them; and they worship beauty perhaps as much as you do. But they +only love for ever and are mated when they meet a noble nature." + +Sir Austin looked at her wistfully. + +"And did you encounter the knight of your dream?" + +"Not then." She lowered her eyelids. It was prettily done. + +"And how did you bear the disappointment?" + +"My dream was in the nursery. The day my frock was lengthened to a +gown I stood at the altar. I am not the only girl that has been made +a woman in a day, and given to an ogre instead of a true knight." + +"Good God!" exclaimed Sir Austin, "women have much to bear." + +Here the couple changed characters. The lady became gay as the +baronet grew earnest. + +"You know it is our lot," she said. "And we are allowed many +amusements. If we fulfil our duty in producing children, that, like +our virtue, is its own reward. Then, as a widow, I have wonderful +privileges." + +"To preserve which, you remain a widow?" + +"Certainly," she responded. "I have no trouble now in patching and +piecing that rag the world calls--a character. I can sit at your +feet every day unquestioned. To be sure, others do the same, but +they are female eccentrics, and have cast off the rag altogether." + +Sir Austin drew nearer to her. "You would have made an admirable +mother, madam." + +This from Sir Austin was very like positive wooing. + +"It is," he continued, "ten thousand pities that you are not one." + +"Do you think so?" She spoke with humility. + +"I would," he went on, "that heaven had given you a daughter." + +"Would you have thought her worthy of Richard?" + +"Our blood, madam, should have been one!" + +The lady tapped her toe with her parasol. "But I am a mother," she +said. "Richard is my son. Yes! Richard is my boy," she reiterated. + +Sir Austin most graciously appended, "Call him ours, madam," and +held his head as if to catch the word from her lips, which, however, +she chose to refuse, or defer. They made the coloured West a common +point for their eyes, and then Sir Austin said: + +"As you will not say 'ours,' let me. And, as you have therefore an +equal claim on the boy, I will confide to you a project I have +lately conceived." + +The announcement of a project hardly savoured of a coming proposal, +but for Sir Austin to confide one to a woman was almost tantamount +to a declaration. So Lady Blandish thought, and so said her soft, +deep-eyed smile, as she perused the ground while listening to the +project. It concerned Richard's nuptials. He was now nearly +eighteen. He was to marry when he was five-and-twenty. Meantime a +young lady, some years his junior, was to be sought for in the homes +of England, who would be every way fitted by education, instincts, +and blood--on each of which qualifications Sir Austin unreservedly +enlarged--to espouse so perfect a youth and accept the honourable +duty of assisting in the perpetuation of the Feverels. The baronet +went on to say that he proposed to set forth immediately, and devote +a couple of months, to the first essay in his Coelebite search. + +"I fear," said Lady Blandish, when the project had been fully +unfolded, "you have laid down for yourself a difficult task. You +must not be too exacting." + +"I know it." The baronet's shake of the head was piteous. + +"Even in England she will be rare. But I confine myself to no class. +If I ask for blood it is for untainted, not what you call high +blood. I believe many of the middle classes are frequently more +careful--more pure-blooded--than our aristocracy. Show me among them +a God-fearing family who educate their children--I should prefer a +girl without brothers and sisters--as a Christian damsel should be +educated--say; on the model of my son, and she may be penniless, I +will pledge her to Richard Feverel." + +Lady Blandish bit her lip. "And what do you do with Richard while +you are absent on this expedition?" + +"Oh!" said the baronet, "he accompanies his father." + +"Then give it up. His future bride is now pinafored and +bread-and-buttery. She romps, she cries, she dreams of play and +pudding. How can he care for her? He thinks more at his age of old +women like me. He will be certain to kick against her, and destroy +your plan, believe me, Sir Austin." + +"Ay? ay? do you think that?" said the baronet. + +Lady Blandish gave him a multitude of reasons. + +"Ay! true," he muttered. "Adrian said the same. He must not see her. +How could I think of it! The child is naked woman. He would despise +her. Naturally!" + +"Naturally!" echoed the lady. + +"Then, madam," and the baronet rose, "there is one thing for me to +determine upon. I must, for the first time in his life, leave him." + +"Will you, indeed?" said the lady. + +"It is my duty, having thus brought him up, to see that he is +properly mated,--not wrecked upon the quicksands of marriage, as a +youth so delicately trained might be; more easily than another! +Betrothed, he will be safe from a thousand snares. I may, I think, +leave him for a term. My precautions have saved him from the +temptations of his season." + +"And under whose charge will you leave him?" Lady Blandish inquired. + +She had emerged from the temple, and stood beside Sir Austin on the +upper steps, under a clear summer twilight. + +"Madam!" he took her hand, and his voice was gallant and tender, +"under whose but yours?" + +As the baronet said this, he bent above her hand, and raised it to +his lips. + +Lady Blandish felt that she had been wooed and asked in wedlock. She +did not withdraw her hand. The baronet's salute was flatteringly +reverent. He deliberated over it, as one going through a grave +ceremony. And he, the scorner of women, had chosen her for his +homage! Lady Blandish forgot that she had taken some trouble to +arrive at it. She received the exquisite compliment in all its +unique honey-sweet: for in love we must deserve nothing or the fine +bloom of fruition is gone. + +The lady's hand was still in durance, and the baronet had not +recovered from his profound inclination, when a noise from the +neighbouring beechwood startled the two actors in this courtly +pantomime. They turned their heads, and beheld the hope of Raynham +on horseback surveying the scene. The next moment he had galloped +away. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +AN ATTRACTION + + +All night Richard tossed on his bed with his heart in a rapid +canter, and his brain bestriding it, traversing the rich untasted +world, and the great Realm of Mystery, from which he was now +restrained no longer. Months he had wandered about the gates of the +Bonnet, wondering, sighing, knocking at them, and getting neither +admittance nor answer. He had the key now. His own father had given +it to him. His heart was a lightning steed, and bore him on and on +over limitless regions bathed in super-human beauty and strangeness, +where cavaliers and ladies leaned whispering upon close green +swards, and knights and ladies cast a splendour upon savage forests, +and tilts and tourneys were held in golden courts lit to a glorious +day by ladies' eyes, one pair of which, dimly visioned, constantly +distinguishable, followed him through the boskage and dwelt upon him +in the press, beaming while he bent above a hand glittering white +and fragrant as the frosted blossom of a May night. + +Awhile the heart would pause and flutter to a shock: he was in the +act of consummating all earthly bliss by pressing his lips to the +small white hand. Only to do that, and die! cried the Magnetic +Youth: to fling the Jewel of Life into that one cup and drink it +off! He was intoxicated by anticipation. For that he was born. +There was, then, some end in existence, something to live for! to +kiss a woman's hand, and die! He would leap from the couch, and rush +to pen and paper to relieve his swarming sensations. Scarce was he +seated when the pen was dashed aside, the paper sent flying with the +exclamation, "Have I not sworn I would never write again?" Sir +Austin had shut that safety-valve. The nonsense that was in the +youth might have poured harmlessly out, and its urgency for +ebullition was so great that he was repeatedly oblivious of his +oath, and found himself seated under the lamp in the act of +composition before pride could speak a word. Possibly the pride even +of Richard Feverel had been swamped if the act of composition were +easy at such a time, and a single idea could stand clearly foremost; +but myriads were demanding the first place; chaotic hosts, like +ranks of stormy billows, pressed impetuously for expression, and +despair of reducing them to form, quite as much as pride, to which +it pleased him to refer his incapacity, threw down the powerless +pen, and sent him panting to his outstretched length and another +headlong career through the rosy-girdled land. + +Toward morning the madness of the fever abated somewhat, and he went +forth into the air. A lamp was still burning in his father's room, +and Richard thought, as he looked up, that he saw the ever-vigilant +head on the watch. Instantly the lamp was extinguished, the window +stood cold against the hues of dawn. + +Strong pulling is an excellent medical remedy for certain classes of +fever. Richard took to it instinctively. The clear fresh water, +burnished with sunrise, sparkled against his arrowy prow; the soft +deep shadows curled smiling away from his gliding keel. Overhead +solitary morning unfolded itself, from blossom to bud, from bud to +flower; still, delicious changes of light and colour, to whose +influences he was heedless as he shot under willows and aspens, and +across sheets of river-reaches, pure mirrors to the upper glory, +himself the sole tenant of the stream. Somewhere at the founts of +the world lay the land he was rowing toward; something of its +shadowed lights might be discerned here and there. It was not a +dream, now he knew. There was a secret abroad. The woods were full +of it; the waters rolled with it, and the winds. Oh, why could not +one in these days do some high knightly deed which should draw down +ladies' eyes from their heaven, as in the days of Arthur! To such a +meaning breathed the unconscious sighs of the youth, when he had +pulled through his first feverish energy. + +He was off Bursley, and had lapsed a little into that musing +quietude which follows strenuous exercise, when he heard a hail and +his own name called. It was no lady, no fairy, but young Ralph +Morton, an irruption of miserable masculine prose. Heartily wishing +him abed with the rest of mankind, Richard rowed in and jumped +ashore. Ralph immediately seized his arm, saying that he desired +earnestly to have a talk with him, and dragged the Magnetic Youth +from his water-dreams, up and down the wet mown grass. That he had +to say seemed to be difficult of utterance, and Richard, though he +barely listened, soon had enough of his old rival's gladness at +seeing him, and exhibited signs of impatience; whereat Ralph, as one +who branches into matter somewhat foreign to his mind, but of great +human interest and importance, put the question to him: + +"I say, what woman's name do you like best?" + +"I don't know any," quoth Richard, indifferently. "Why are you out +so early?" + +In answer to this, Ralph suggested that the name of Mary might be +considered a pretty name. + +Richard agreed that it might be; the housekeeper at Raynham, half +the women cooks, and all the housemaids enjoyed that name; the name +of Mary was equivalent for women at home. + +"Yes, I know," said Ralph. "We have lots of Marys. It's so common. +Oh! I don't like Mary best. What do you think of Lucy?" + +Richard thought it just like another. + +"Do you know," Ralph continued, throwing off the mask and plunging +into the subject, "I'd do anything on earth for some names--one or +two. It's not Mary, nor Lucy. Clarinda's pretty, but it's like a +novel. Claribel, I like. Names beginning with 'Cl' I prefer. The +'Cl's' are always gentle and lovely girls you would die for! Don't +you think so?" + +Richard had never been acquainted with any of them to inspire that +emotion. Indeed these urgent appeals to his fancy in feminine names +at five o'clock in the morning slightly surprised him, though he was +but half awake to the outer world. By degrees he perceived that +Ralph was changed. Instead of the lusty boisterous boy, his rival in +manly sciences, who spoke straightforwardly and acted up to his +speech, here was an abashed and blush-persecuted youth, who sued +piteously for a friendly ear wherein to pour the one idea possessing +him. Gradually, too, Richard apprehended that Ralph likewise was on +the frontiers of the Realm of Mystery, perhaps further toward it +than he himself was; and then, as by a sympathetic stroke, was +revealed to him the wonderful beauty and depth of meaning in +feminine names. The theme appeared novel and delicious, fitted to +the season and the hour. But the hardship was, that Richard could +choose none from the number; all were the same to him; he loved them +all. + +"Don't you really prefer the 'Cl's'?" said Ralph, persuasively. + +"Not better than the names ending in 'a' and 'y,'" Richard replied, +wishing he could, for Ralph was evidently ahead of him. + +"Come under these trees," said Ralph. And under the trees Ralph +unbosomed. His name was down for the army: Eton was quitted for +ever. In a few months he would have to join his regiment, and before +he left he must say good-bye to his friends.... Would Richard tell +him Mrs. Forey's address? he had heard she was somewhere by the sea. +Richard did not remember the address, but said he would willingly +take charge of any letter and forward it. + +Ralph dived his hand into his pocket. "Here it is. But don't let +anybody see it." + +"My aunt's name is not Clare," said Richard, perusing what was +composed of the exterior formula. "You've addressed it to Clare +herself." + +That was plain to see. + +"Emmeline Clementina Matilda Laura, Countess Blandish," Richard +continued in a low tone, transferring the names, and playing on the +musical strings they were to him. Then he said: "Names of ladies! +How they sweeten their names!" + +He fixed his eyes on Ralph. If he discovered anything further he +said nothing, but bade the good fellow good-bye, jumped into his +boat, and pulled down the tide. The moment Ralph was hidden by an +abutment of the banks, Richard perused the address. For the first +time it struck him that his cousin Clare was a very charming +creature: he remembered the look of her eyes, and especially the +last reproachful glance she gave him at parting. What business had +Ralph to write to her? Did she not belong to Richard Feverel? He +read the words again and again: Clare Doria Forey. Why, Clare was +the name he liked best--nay, he loved it. Doria, too--she shared his +own name with him. Away went his heart, not at a canter now, at a +gallop, as one who sights the quarry. He felt too weak to pull. +Clare Doria Forey---oh, perfect melody! Sliding with the tide, he +heard it fluting in the bosom of the hills. + +When nature has made us ripe for love, it seldom occurs that the +Fates are behindhand in furnishing a temple for the flame. + +Above green-flashing plunges of a weir, and shaken by the thunder +below, lilies, golden and white, were swaying at anchor among the +reeds. Meadow-sweet hung from the banks thick with weed and trailing +bramble, and there also hung a daughter of earth. Her face was +shaded by a broad straw hat with a flexible brim that left her lips +and chin in the sun, and, sometimes nodding, sent forth a light of +promising eyes. Across her shoulders, and behind, flowed large loose +curls, brown in shadow, almost golden where the ray touched them. +She was simply dressed, befitting decency and the season. On a +closer inspection you might see that her lips were stained. This +blooming young person was regaling on dewberries. They grew between +the bank and the water. Apparently she found the fruit abundant, for +her hand was making pretty progress to her mouth. Fastidious youth, +which revolts at woman plumping her exquisite proportions on +bread-and-butter, and would (we must suppose) joyfully have her +scraggy to have her poetical, can hardly object to dewberries. +Indeed the act of eating them is dainty and induces musing. The +dewberry is a sister to the lotus, and an innocent sister. You eat: +mouth, eye, and hand are occupied, and the undrugged mind free to +roam. And so it was with the damsel who knelt there. The little +skylark went up above her, all song, to the smooth southern cloud +lying along the blue: from a dewy copse dark over her nodding hat +the blackbird fluted, calling to her with thrice mellow note: the +kingfisher flashed emerald out of green osiers: a bow-winged heron +travelled aloft, seeking solitude: a boat slipped toward her, +containing a dreamy youth; and still she plucked the fruit, and ate, +and mused, as if no fairy prince were invading her territories, and +as if she wished not for one, or knew not her wishes. Surrounded by +the green shaven meadows, the pastoral summer buzz, the weir-fall's +thundering white, amid the breath and beauty of wild flowers, she +was a bit of lovely human life in a fair setting; a terrible +attraction. The Magnetic Youth leaned round to note his proximity to +the weir-piles, and beheld the sweet vision. Stiller and stiller +grew nature, as at the meeting of two electric clouds. Her posture +was so graceful, that though he was making straight for the weir, he +dared not dip a scull. Just then one enticing dewberry caught her +eyes. He was floating by unheeded, and saw that her hand stretched +low, and could not gather what it sought. A stroke from his right +brought him beside her. The damsel glanced up dismayed, and her +whole shape trembled over the brink. Richard sprang from his boat +into the water. Pressing a hand beneath her foot, which she had +thrust against the crumbling wet sides of the bank to save herself, +he enabled her to recover her balance, and gain safe earth, whither +he followed her. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +FERDINAND AND MIRANDA + + +He had landed on an island of the still-vexed Bermoothes. The world +lay wrecked behind him: Raynham hung in mists, remote, a phantom to +the vivid reality of this white hand which had drawn him thither +away thousands of leagues in an eye-twinkle. Hark, how Ariel sang +overhead! What splendour in the heavens! What marvels of beauty +about his enchanted brows! And, O you wonder! Fair Flame! by whose +light the glories of being are now first seen.... Radiant Miranda! +Prince Ferdinand is at your feet. + +Or is it Adam, his rib taken from his side in sleep, and thus +transformed, to make him behold his Paradise, and lose it?... + +The youth looked on her with as glowing an eye. It was the First +Woman to him. + +And she--mankind was all Caliban to her, saving this one princely +youth. + +So to each other said their changing eyes in the moment they stood +together; he pale, and she blushing. + +She was indeed sweetly fair, and would have been held fair among +rival damsels. On a magic shore, and to a youth educated by a +System, strung like an arrow drawn to the head, he, it might be +guessed, could fly fast and far with her. The soft rose in her +cheeks, the clearness of her eyes, bore witness to the body's +virtue; and health and happy blood were in her bearing. Had she +stood before Sir Austin among rival damsels, that Scientific +Humanist, for the consummation of his System, would have thrown her +the handkerchief for his son. The wide summer-hat, nodding over her +forehead to her brows, seemed to flow with the flowing heavy curls, +and those fire-threaded mellow curls, only half-curls, waves of hair +call them, rippling at the ends, went like a sunny red-veined +torrent down her back almost to her waist: a glorious vision to the +youth, who embraced it as a flower of beauty, and read not a +feature. There were curious features of colour in her face for him +to have read. Her brows, thick and brownish against a soft skin +showing the action of the blood, met in the bend of a bow, extending +to the temples long and level: you saw that she was fashioned to +peruse the sights of earth, and by the pliability of her brows that +the wonderful creature used her faculty, and was not going to be a +statue to the gazer. Under the dark thick brows an arch of lashes +shot out, giving a wealth of darkness to the full frank blue eyes, a +mystery of meaning--more than brain was ever meant to fathom: +richer, henceforth, than all mortal wisdom to Prince Ferdinand. For +when nature turns artist, and produces contrasts of colour on a fair +face, where is the Sage, or what the Oracle, shall match the depth +of its lightest look? + +Prince Ferdinand was also fair. In his slim boating-attire his +figure looked heroic. His hair, rising from the parting to the right +of his forehead, in what his admiring Lady Blandish called his +plume, fell away slanting silkily to the temples across the nearly +imperceptible upward curve of his brows there--felt more than seen, +so slight it was--and gave to his profile a bold beauty, to which +his bashful, breathless air was a flattering charm. An arrow drawn +to the head, capable of flying fast and far with her! He leaned a +little forward, drinking her in with all his eyes, and young Love +has a thousand. Then truly the System triumphed, just ere it was to +fall; and could Sir Austin have been content to draw the arrow to +the head, and let it fly, when it would fly, he might have pointed +to his son again, and said to the world, "Match him!" Such keen +bliss as the youth had in the sight of her, an innocent youth alone +has powers of soul in him to experience. + + * * * * * + +"O Women!" says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, in one of its solitary outbursts, +"Women, who like, and will have for hero, a rake! how soon are you not +to learn that you have taken bankrupts to your bosoms, and that the +putrescent gold that attracted you is the slime of the Lake of Sin!" + + * * * * * + +If these two were Ferdinand and Miranda, Sir Austin was not Prospero, +and was not present, or their fates might have been different. + +So they stood a moment, changing eyes, and then Miranda spoke, and +they came down to earth, feeling no less in heaven. + +She spoke to thank him for his aid. She used quite common simple words; +and used them, no doubt, to express a common simple meaning: but to him +she was uttering magic, casting spells, and the effect they had on him +was manifested in the incoherence of his replies, which were too foolish +to be chronicled. + +The couple were again mute. Suddenly Miranda, with an exclamation of +anguish, and innumerable lights and shadows playing over her lovely +face, clapped her hands, crying aloud, "My book! my book!" and ran to +the bank. + +Prince Ferdinand was at her side. "What have you lost?" he said. + +"My book!" she answered, her delicious curls swinging across her +shoulders to the stream. Then turning to him, "Oh, no, no! let me +entreat you not to," she said; "I do not so very much mind losing it." +And in her eagerness to restrain him she unconsciously laid her gentle +hand upon his arm, and took the force of motion out of him. + +"Indeed, I do not really care for the silly book," she continued, +withdrawing her hand quickly, and reddening. "Pray, do not!" + +The young gentleman had kicked off his shoes. No sooner was the spell +of contact broken than he jumped in. The water was still troubled and +discoloured by his introductory adventure, and, though he ducked his +head with the spirit of a dabchick, the book was missing. A scrap of +paper floating from the bramble just above the water, and looking as if +fire had caught its edges and it had flown from one adverse element to +the other, was all he could lay hold of; and he returned to land +disconsolately, to hear Miranda's murmured mixing of thanks and pretty +expostulations. + +"Let me try again," he said. + +"No, indeed!" she replied, and used the awful threat: "I will run +away if you do," which effectually restrained him. + +Her eye fell on the fire-stained scrap of paper, and brightened, as +she cried, "There, there! you have what I want. It is that. I do not +care for the book. No, please! You are not to look at it. Give it +me." + +Before her playfully imperative injunction was fairly spoken, +Richard had glanced at the document and discovered a Griffin between +two Wheatsheaves: his crest in silver: and below--O wonderment +immense! his own handwriting! + +He handed it to her. She took it, and put it in her bosom. + +Who would have thought, that, where all else perished, Odes, Idyls, +Lines, Stanzas, this one Sonnet to the stars should be miraculously +reserved for such a starry fate--passing beatitude! + +As they walked silently across the meadow, Richard strove to +remember the hour and the mood of mind in which he had composed the +notable production. The stars were invoked, as seeing and foreseeing +all, to tell him where then his love reclined, and so forth; Hesper +was complacent enough to do so, and described her in a couplet-- + + "Through sunset's amber see me shining fair, + As her blue eyes shine through her golden hair." + +And surely no words could be more prophetic. Here were two blue eyes +and golden hair; and by some strange chance, that appeared like the +working of a divine finger, she had become the possessor of the +prophecy, she that was to fulfil it! The youth was too charged with +emotion to speak. Doubtless the damsel had less to think of, or had +some trifling burden on her conscience, for she seemed to grow +embarrassed. At last she drew up her chin to look at her companion +under the nodding brim of her hat (and the action gave her a +charmingly freakish air), crying, "But where are you going to? You +are wet through. Let me thank you again; and, pray, leave me, and go +home and change instantly." + +"Wet?" replied the magnetic muser, with a voice of tender interest; +"not more than one foot, I hope. I will leave you while you dry your +stockings in the sun." + +At this she could not withhold a shy laugh. + +"Not I, but you. You would try to get that silly book for me, and +you are dripping wet. Are you not very uncomfortable?" + +In all sincerity he assured her that he was not. + +"And you really do not feel that you are wet?" + +He really did not: and it was a fact that he spoke truth. + +She pursed her dewberry mouth in the most comical way, and her blue +eyes lightened laughter out of the half-closed lids. + +"I cannot help it," she said, her mouth opening, and sounding +harmonious bells of laughter in his ears. "Pardon me, won't you?" + +His face took the same soft smiling curves in admiration of her. + +"Not to feel that you have been in the water, the very moment +after!" she musically interjected, seeing she was excused. + +"It's true," he said; and his own gravity then touched him to join a +duet with her, which made them no longer feel strangers, and did the +work of a month of intimacy. Better than sentiment, laughter opens +the breast to love; opens the whole breast to his full quiver, +instead of a corner here and there for a solitary arrow. Hail the +occasion propitious, O British young! and laugh and treat love as an +honest God, and dabble not with the sentimental rouge. These two +laughed, and the souls of each cried out to the other, "It is I, it +is I." + +They laughed and forgot the cause of their laughter, and the sun +dried his light river clothing, and they strolled toward the +blackbird's copse, and stood near a stile in sight of the foam of +the weir and the many-coloured rings of eddies streaming forth from +it. + +Richard's boat, meanwhile, had contrived to shoot the weir, and was +swinging, bottom upward, broadside with the current down the rapid +backwater. + +"Will you let it go?" said the damsel, eyeing it curiously. + +"It can't be stopped," he replied, and could have added: "What do I +care for it now!" + +His old life was whirled away with it, dead, drowned. His new life +was with her, alive, divine. + +She flapped low the brim of her hat. "You must really not come any +farther," she softly said. + +"And will you go, and not tell me who you are?" he asked, growing +bold as the fears of losing her came across him. "And will you not +tell me before you go"--his face burned--"how you came by that--that +paper?" + +She chose to select the easier question for answer: "You ought to +know me; we have been introduced." Sweet was her winning off-hand +affability. + +"Then who, in heaven's name, are you? Tell me! I never could have +forgotten you." + +"You have, I think," she said. + +"Impossible that we could ever have met, and I forget you!" + +She looked up at him. + +"Do you remember Belthorpe?" + +"Belthorpe! Belthorpe!" quoth Richard, as if he had to touch his +brain to recollect there was such a place. "Do you mean old Blaize's +farm?" + +"Then I am old Blaize's niece." She tripped him a soft curtsey. + +The magnetized youth gazed at her. By what magic was it that this +divine sweet creature could be allied with that old churl! + +"Then what--what is your name?" said his mouth, while his eyes +added, "O wonderful creature! How came you to enrich the earth?" + +"Have you forgot the Desboroughs of Dorset, too?" she peered at him +from a side-bend of the flapping brim. + +"The Desboroughs of Dorset?" A light broke in on him. "And have you +grown to this? That little girl I saw there!" + +He drew close to her to read the nearest features of the vision. She +could no more laugh off the piercing fervour of his eyes. Her +volubility fluttered under his deeply wistful look, and now neither +voice was high, and they were mutually constrained. + +"You see," she murmured, "we are old acquaintances." + +Richard, with his eyes still intently fixed on her, returned, "You +are very beautiful!" + +The words slipped out. Perfect simplicity is unconsciously +audacious. Her overpowering beauty struck his heart, and, like an +instrument that is touched and answers to the touch, he spoke. + +Miss Desborough made an effort to trifle with this terrible +directness; but his eyes would not be gainsaid, and checked her +lips. She turned away from them, her bosom a little rebellious. +Praise so passionately spoken, and by one who has been a damsel's +first dream, dreamed of nightly many long nights, and clothed in the +virgin silver of her thoughts in bud, praise from him is coin the +heart cannot reject, if it would. She quickened her steps. + +"I have offended you!" said a mortally wounded voice across her +shoulder. + +That he should think so were too dreadful. + +"Oh no, no! you would never offend me." She gave him her whole sweet +face. + +"Then why--why do you leave me?" + +"Because," she hesitated, "I must go." + +"No. You must not go. Why must you go? Do not go." + +"Indeed I must," she said, pulling at the obnoxious broad brim of +her hat; and, interpreting a pause he made for his assent to her +rational resolve, shyly looking at him, she held her hand out, and +said, "Good-bye," as if it were a natural thing to say. + +The hand was pure white--white and fragrant as the frosted blossom +of a Maynight. It was the hand whose shadow, cast before, he had +last night bent his head reverentially above, and kissed--resigning +himself thereupon over to execution for payment of the penalty of +such daring--by such bliss well rewarded. + +He took the hand, and held it, gazing between her eyes. + +"Good-bye," she said again, as frankly as she could, and at the same +time slightly compressing her fingers on his in token of adieu. It +was a signal for his to close firmly upon hers. + +"You will not go?" + +"Pray, let me," she pleaded, her sweet brows suing in wrinkles. + +"You will not go?" Mechanically he drew the white hand nearer his +thumping heart. + +"I must," she faltered piteously. + +"You will not go?" + +"Oh yes! yes!" + +"Tell me. Do you wish to go?" + +The question was a subtle one. A moment or two she did not answer, +and then forswore herself, and said, Yes. + +"Do you--you wish to go?" He looked with quivering eyelids under +hers. + +A fainter Yes responded. + +"You wish--wish to leave me?" His breath went with the words. + +"Indeed I must." + +Her hand became a closer prisoner. + +All at once an alarming delicious shudder went through her frame. +From him to her it coursed, and back from her to him. Forward and +back love's electric messenger rushed from heart to heart, knocking +at each, till it surged tumultuously against the bars of its +prison, crying out for its mate. They stood trembling in unison, a +lovely couple under these fair heavens of the morning. + +When he could get his voice it said, "Will you go?" + +But she had none to reply with, and could only mutely bend upward +her gentle wrist. + +"Then, farewell!" he said, and, dropping his lips to the soft fair +hand, kissed it, and hung his head, swinging away from her, ready +for death. + +Strange, that now she was released she should linger by him. +Strange, that his audacity, instead of the executioner, brought +blushes and timid tenderness to his side, and the sweet words, "You +are not angry with me?" + +"With you, O Beloved!" cried his soul. "And you forgive me, fair +charity!" + +"I think it was rude of me to go without thanking you again," she +said, and again proffered her hand. + +The sweet heaven-bird shivered out his song above him. The gracious +glory of heaven fell upon his soul. He touched her hand, not moving +his eyes from her, nor speaking, and she, with a soft word of +farewell, passed across the stile, and up the pathway through the +dewy shades of the copse, and out of the arch of the light, away +from his eyes. + + * * * * * + +And away with her went the wild enchantment. He looked on barren +air. But it was no more the world of yesterday. The marvellous +splendours had sown seeds in him, ready to spring up and bloom at +her gaze; and in his bosom now the vivid conjuration of her tones, +her face, her shape, makes them leap and illumine him like fitful +summer lightnings--ghosts of the vanished sun. + +There was nothing to tell him that he had been making love and +declaring it with extraordinary rapidity; nor did he know it. Soft +flushed cheeks! sweet mouth! strange sweet brows! eyes of softest +fire! how could his ripe eyes behold you, and not plead to keep you? +Nay, how could he let you go? And he seriously asked himself that +question. + +To-morrow this place will have a memory--the river and the meadow, +and the white falling weir: his heart will build a temple here; and +the skylark will be its high-priest, and the old blackbird its +glossy-gowned chorister, and there will be a sacred repast of +dewberries. To-day the grass is grass: his heart is chased by +phantoms and finds rest nowhere. Only when the most tender freshness +of his flower comes across him does he taste a moment's calm; and no +sooner does it come than it gives place to keen pangs for fear that +she may not be his for ever. + +Erelong he learns that her name is Lucy. Erelong he meets Ralph, and +discovers that in a day he has distanced him by a sphere. He and +Ralph and the curate of Lobourne join in their walks, and raise +classical discussions on ladies' hair, fingering a thousand +delicious locks, from those of Cleopatra to the Borgia's. "Fair! +fair! all of them fair!" sighs the melancholy curate, "as are those +women formed for our perdition! I think we have in this country what +will match the Italian or the Greek." His mind flutters to Mrs. +Doria, Richard blushes before the vision of Lucy, and Ralph, whose +heroine's hair is a dark luxuriance, dissents, and claims a noble +share in the slaughter of men for dark-haired Wonders. They have no +mutual confidences, but they are singularly kind to each other, +these three children of instinct. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +UNMASKING OF MASTER RIPTON THOMPSON + + +Lady Blandish, and others who professed an interest in the fortunes +and future of the systematized youth, had occasionally mentioned +names of families whose alliance according to apparent calculations, +would not degrade his blood: and over these names, secretly +preserved on an open leaf of the note-book, Sir Austin, as he neared +the metropolis, distantly dropped his eye. There were names historic +and names mushroomic; names that the Conqueror might have called in +his muster-roll; names that had been, clearly, tossed into the upper +stratum of civilized life by a mill-wheel or a merchant-stool. +Against them the baronet had written M., or Po. or Pr.--signifying, +Money, Position, Principles, favouring the latter with special +brackets. The wisdom of a worldly man, which he could now and then +adopt, determined him, before he commenced his round of visits, to +consult and sound his solicitor and his physician thereanent; +lawyers and doctors being the rats who know best the merits of a +house, and on what sort of foundation it may be standing. + +Sir Austin entered the great city with a sad mind. The memory of his +misfortune came upon him vividly, as if no years had intervened, and +it were but yesterday that he found the letter telling him that he +had no wife and his son no mother. He wandered on foot through the +streets the first night of his arrival, looking strangely at the +shops and shows and bustle of the world from which he had divorced +himself; feeling as destitute as the poorest vagrant. He had almost +forgotten how to find his way about, and came across his old mansion +in his efforts to regain his hotel. The windows were alight--signs +of merry life within. He stared at it from the shadow of the +opposite side. It seemed to him he was a ghost gazing upon his +living past. And then the phantom which had stood there mocking +while he felt as other men--the phantom, now flesh and blood +reality, seized and convulsed his heart, and filled its unforgiving +crevices with bitter ironic venom. He remembered by the time +reflection returned to him that it was Algernon, who had the house +at his disposal, probably giving a card-party, or something of the +sort. In the morning, too, he remembered that he had divorced the +world to wed a System, and must be faithful to that exacting Spouse, +who, now alone of things on earth, could fortify and recompense him. + +Mr. Thompson received his client with the dignity and emotion due to +such a rent-roll and the unexpectedness of the honour. He was a thin +stately man of law, garbed as one who gave audience to sacred +bishops, and carrying on his countenance the stamp of paternity to +the parchment-skins, and of a virtuous attachment to Port wine +sufficient to increase his respectability in the eyes of moral +Britain. After congratulating Sir Austin on the fortunate issue of +two or three suits, and being assured that the baronet's business in +town had no concern therewith, Mr. Thompson ventured to hope that +the young heir was all his father could desire him to be, and heard +with satisfaction that he was a pattern to the youth of the Age. + +"A difficult time of life, Sir Austin!" said the old lawyer, shaking +his head. "We must keep our eyes on them--keep awake! The mischief +is done in a minute." + +"We must take care to have seen where we planted, and that the root +was sound, or the mischief will do itself in spite of, or under the +very spectacles of, supervision," said the baronet. + +His legal adviser murmured "Exactly," as if that were his own idea, +adding, "It is my plan with Ripton, who has had the honour of an +introduction to you, and a very pleasant time he spent with my young +friend, whom he does not forget. Ripton follows the Law. He is +articled to me, and will, I trust, succeed me worthily in your +confidence. I bring him into town in the morning; I take him back at +night. I think I may say that I am quite content with him." + +"Do you think," said Sir Austin, fixing his brows, "that you can +trace every act of his to its motive?" + +The old lawyer bent forward and humbly requested that this might be +repeated. + +"Do you"--Sir Austin held the same searching expression--"do you +establish yourself in a radiating centre of intuition: do you base +your watchfulness on so thorough an acquaintance with his character, +so perfect a knowledge of the instrument, that all its movements--even +the eccentric ones--are anticipated by you, and provided for?" + +The explanation was a little too long for the old lawyer to entreat +another repetition. Winking with the painful deprecation of a deaf +man, Mr. Thompson smiled urbanely, coughed conciliatingly, and said +he was afraid he could not affirm that much, though he was happily +enabled to say that Ripton had borne an extremely good character at +school. + +"I find," Sir Austin remarked, as sardonically he relaxed his +inspecting pose and mien, "there are fathers who are content to be +simply obeyed. Now I require not only that my son should obey; I +would have him guiltless of the impulse to gainsay my wishes--feeling +me in him stronger than his undeveloped nature, up to a certain +period, where my responsibility ends and his commences. Man is a +self-acting machine. He cannot cease to be a machine; but, though +self-acting, he may lose the powers of self-guidance, and in a wrong +course his very vitalities hurry him to perdition. Young, he is an +organism ripening to the set mechanic diurnal round, and while so he +needs all the angels to hold watch over him that he grow straight and +healthy, and fit for what machinal duties he may have to perform." ... + +Mr. Thompson agitated his eyebrows dreadfully. He was utterly lost. +He respected Sir Austin's estates too much to believe for a moment +he was listening to downright folly. Yet how otherwise explain the +fact of his excellent client being incomprehensible to him? For a +middle-aged gentleman, and one who has been in the habit of advising +and managing, will rarely have a notion of accusing his +understanding; and Mr. Thompson had not the slightest notion of +accusing his. But the baronet's condescension in coming thus to him, +and speaking on the subject nearest his heart, might well affect +him, and he quickly settled the case in favour of both parties, +pronouncing mentally that his honoured client had a meaning, and so +deep it was, so subtle, that no wonder he experienced difficulty in +giving it fitly significant words. + +Sir Austin elaborated his theory of the Organism and the Mechanism, +for his lawyer's edification. At a recurrence of the world "healthy" +Mr. Thompson caught him up-- + +"I apprehended you! Oh, I agree with you, Sir Austin! entirely! +Allow me to ring for my son Ripton. I think, if you condescend to +examine him, you will say that regular habits, and a diet of nothing +but law-reading--for other forms of literature I strictly +interdict--have made him all that you instance." + +Mr. Thompson's hand was on the bell. Sir Austin arrested him. + +"Permit me to see the lad at his occupation," said he. + +Our old friend Ripton sat in a room apart with the confidential +clerk, Mr. Beazley, a veteran of law, now little better than a +document, looking already signed and sealed, and shortly to be +delivered, who enjoined nothing from his pupil and companion save +absolute silence, and sounded his praises to his father at the close +of days when it had been rigidly observed--not caring, or +considering, the finished dry old document that he was, under what +kind of spell a turbulent commonplace youth could be charmed into +stillness for six hours of the day. Ripton was supposed to be +devoted to the study of Blackstone. A tome of the classic legal +commentator lay extended outside his desk, under the partially +lifted lid of which nestled the assiduous student's head--law being +thus brought into direct contact with his brainpan. The office-door +opened, and he heard not; his name was called, and he remained +equally moveless. His method of taking in Blackstone seemed +absorbing as it was novel. + +"Comparing notes, I daresay," whispered Mr. Thompson to Sir Austin. +"I call that study!" + +The confidential clerk rose, and bowed obsequious senility. + +"Is it like this every day, Beazley?" Mr. Thompson asked with +parental pride. + +"Ahem!" the old clerk replied, "he is like this every day, sir. I +could not ask more of a mouse." + +Sir Austin stepped forward to the desk. His proximity roused one of +Ripton's senses, which blew a call to the others. Down went the lid +of the desk. Dismay, and the ardours of study, flashed together in +Ripton's face. He slouched from his perch with the air of one who +means rather to defend his position than welcome a superior, the +right hand in his waistcoat pocket fumbling a key, the left catching +at his vacant stool. + +Sir Austin put two fingers on the youth's shoulder, and said, +leaning his head a little on one side, in a way habitual to him, "I +am glad to find my son's old comrade thus profitably occupied. I +know what study is myself. But beware of prosecuting it too +excitedly! Come! you must not be offended at our interruption; you +will soon take up the thread again. Besides, you know, you must get +accustomed to the visits of your client." + +So condescending and kindly did this speech sound to Mr. Thompson, +that, seeing Ripton still preserve his appearance of disorder and +sneaking defiance, he thought fit to nod and frown at the youth, and +desired him to inform the baronet what particular part of Blackstone +he was absorbed in mastering at that moment. + +Ripton hesitated an instant, and blundered out, with dubious +articulation, "The Law of Gravelkind." + +"What Law?" said Sir Austin, perplexed. + +"Gravelkind," again rumbled Ripton's voice. + +Sir Austin turned to Mr. Thompson for an explanation. The old lawyer +was shaking his law-box. + +"Singular!" he exclaimed. "He will make that mistake! What law, +sir?" + +Ripton read his error in the sternly painful expression of his +father's face, and corrected himself. "Gavelkind, sir." + +"Ah!" said Mr. Thompson, with a sigh of relief. "Gravelkind, indeed! +Gavelkind! An old Kentish"----He was going to expound, but Sir +Austin assured him he knew it, and a very absurd law it was, adding, +"I should like to look at your son's notes, or remarks on the +judiciousness of that family arrangement, if he has any." + +"You were making notes, or referring to them, as we entered," said +Mr. Thompson to the sucking lawyer; "a very good plan, which I have +always enjoined on you. Were you not?" + +Ripton stammered that he was afraid he had not any notes to show, +worth seeing. + +"What were you doing then, sir?" + +"Making notes," muttered Ripton, looking incarnate subterfuge. + +"Exhibit!" + +Ripton glanced at his desk and then at his father; at Sir Austin, +and at the confidential clerk. He took out his key. It would not fit +the hole. + +"Exhibit!" was peremptorily called again. + +In his praiseworthy efforts to accommodate the keyhole, Ripton +discovered that the desk was already unlocked. Mr. Thompson marched +to it, and held the lid aloft. A book was lying open within, which +Ripton immediately hustled among a mass of papers and tossed into a +dark corner, not before the glimpse of a coloured frontispiece was +caught by Sir Austin's eye. + +The baronet smiled, and said, "You study Heraldry, too? Are you fond +of the science?" + +Ripton replied that he was very fond of it--extremely attached, and +threw a further pile of papers into the dark corner. + +The notes had been less conspicuously placed, and the search for +them was tedious and vain. Papers, not legal, or the fruits of +study, were found, that made Mr. Thompson more intimate with the +condition of his son's exchequer; nothing in the shape of a remark +on the Law of Gavelkind. + +Mr. Thompson suggested to his son that they might be among those +scraps he had thrown carelessly into the dark corner. Ripton, though +he consented to inspect them, was positive they were not there. + +"What have we here?" said Mr. Thompson, seizing a neatly folded +paper addressed to the Editor of a law publication, as Ripton +brought them forth, one by one. Forthwith Mr. Thompson fixed his +spectacles and read aloud: + + "_To the Editor of the 'Jurist.'_ + + "Sir,--In your recent observations on the great case of Crim"---- + +Mr. Thompson hem'd! and stopped short, like a man who comes +unexpectedly upon a snake in his path. Mr. Beazley's feet shuffled. +Sir Austin changed the position of an arm. + +"It's on the other side, I think," gasped Ripton. + +Mr. Thompson confidently turned over, and intoned with emphasis. + + "To Absalom, the son of David, the little Jew usurer of Bond + Court, Whitecross Gutters, for his introduction to Venus, I O U + Five pounds, when I can pay. + + "Signed: RIPTON THOMPSON." + +Underneath this fictitious legal instrument was discreetly appended: + + "(Mem. Document not binding.)" + +There was a pause: an awful under-breath of sanctified wonderment +and reproach passed round the office. Sir Austin assumed an +attitude. Mr. Thompson shed a glance of severity on his confidential +clerk, who parried by throwing up his hands. + +Ripton, now fairly bewildered, stuffed another paper under his +father's nose, hoping the outside perhaps would satisfy him: it was +marked "Legal Considerations." Mr. Thompson had no idea of sparing +or shielding his son. In fact, like many men whose self-love is +wounded by their offspring, he felt vindictive, and was ready to +sacrifice him up to a certain point, for the good of both. He +therefore opened the paper, expecting something worse than what he +had hitherto seen, despite its formal heading, and he was not +disappointed. + +The "Legal Considerations" related to the Case regarding which +Ripton had conceived it imperative upon him to address a letter to +the Editor of the "Jurist," and was indeed a great case, and an +ancient; revived apparently for the special purpose of displaying +the forensic abilities of the Junior Counsel for the Plaintiff, Mr. +Ripton Thompson, whose assistance the Attorney-General, in his +opening statement, congratulated himself on securing, a rather +unusual thing, due probably to the eminence and renown of that +youthful gentleman at the Bar of his country. So much was seen from +the copy of a report purporting to be extracted from a newspaper, +and prefixed to the Junior Counsel's remarks, or Legal Considerations, +on the conduct of the Case, the admissibility and non-admissibility +of certain evidence, and the ultimate decision of the judges. + +Mr. Thompson, senior, lifted the paper high, with the spirit of one +prepared to do execution on the criminal, and in the voice of a +town-crier, varied by a bitter accentuation and satiric sing-song +tone, deliberately read: + + "Vulcan _v._ Mars. + + "The Attorney-General, assisted by Mr. Ripton Thompson, + appeared on behalf of the Plaintiff. Mr. Serjeant Cupid, Q.C., + and Mr. Capital Opportunity, for the Defendant." + +"Oh!" snapped Mr. Thompson, senior, peering venom at the unfortunate +Ripton over his spectacles, "your notes are on that issue, sir! Thus you +employ your time, sir!" + +With another side-shot at the confidential clerk, who retired +immediately behind a strong entrenchment of shrugs, Mr. Thompson +was pushed by the devil of his rancour to continue reading: + + "This Case is too well known to require more than a partial + summary of particulars".... + +"Ahem! we will skip the particulars, however partial," said Mr. +Thompson. "Ah!--what do you mean here, sir,--but enough! I think we +may be excused your Legal Considerations on such a Case. This is how +you employ your law-studies, sir! You put them to this purpose? Mr. +Beazley! you will henceforward sit alone. I must have this young man +under my own eye. Sir Austin! permit me to apologize to you for +subjecting you to a scene so disagreeable. It was a father's duty +not to spare him." + +Mr. Thompson wiped his forehead, as Brutus might have done after +passing judgment on the scion of his house. + +"These papers," he went on, fluttering Ripton's precious +lucubrations in a waving judicial hand, "I shall retain. The day +will come when he will regard them with shame. And it shall be his +penance, his punishment, to do so! Stop!" he cried, as Ripton was +noiselessly shutting his desk, "have you more of them, sir; of a +similar description? Rout them out! Let us know you at your worst. +What have you there--in that corner?" + +Ripton was understood to say he devoted that corner to old briefs on +important cases. + +Mr. Thompson thrust his trembling fingers among the old briefs, and +turned over the volume Sir Austin had observed, but without much +remarking it, for his suspicions had not risen to print. + +"A Manual of Heraldry?" the baronet politely, and it may be +ironically, inquired, before it could well escape. + +"I like it very much," said Ripton, clutching the book in dreadful +torment. + +"Allow me to see that you have our arms and crest correct." The +baronet proffered a hand for the book. + +"A Griffin between two Wheatsheaves," cried Ripton, still clutching +it nervously. + +Mr. Thompson, without any notion of what he was doing, drew the book +from Ripton's hold; whereupon the two seniors laid their grey heads +together over the title-page. It set forth in attractive characters +beside a coloured frontispiece, which embodied the promise displayed +there, the entrancing adventures of Miss Random, a strange young +lady. + +Had there been a Black Hole within the area of those law regions to +consign Ripton to there and then, or an Iron Rod handy to mortify +his sinful flesh, Mr. Thompson would have used them. As it was, he +contented himself by looking Black Holes and Iron Rods at the +detected youth, who sat on his perch insensible to what might happen +next, collapsed. + +Mr. Thompson cast the wicked creature down with a "Pah!" He, +however, took her up again, and strode away with her. Sir Austin +gave Ripton a forefinger, and kindly touched his head, saying, +"Good-bye, boy! At some future date Richard will be happy to see you +at Raynham." + +Undoubtedly this was a great triumph to the System! + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +GOOD WINE AND GOOD BLOOD + + +The conversation between solicitor and client was resumed. + +"Is it possible," quoth Mr. Thompson, the moment he had ushered his +client into his private room, "that you will consent, Sir Austin, to +see him and receive him again?" + +"Certainly," the baronet replied. "Why not? This by no means +astonishes me. When there is no longer danger to my son he will be +welcome as he was before. He is a schoolboy. I knew it. I expected +it. The results of your principle, Thompson!" + +"One of the very worst books of that abominable class!" exclaimed +the old lawyer, opening at the coloured frontispiece, from which +brazen Miss Random smiled bewitchingly out, as if she had no doubt +of captivating Time and all his veterans on a fair field. "Pah!" he +shut her to with the energy he would have given to the office of +publicly slapping her face; "from this day I diet him on bread and +water--rescind his pocket-money!--How he could have got hold of such +a book! How he--! And what ideas! Concealing them from me as he has +done so cunningly! He trifles with vice! His mind is in a putrid +state! I might have believed--I did believe--I might have gone on +believing--my son Ripton to be a moral young man!" The old lawyer +interjected on the delusion of fathers, and sat down in a lamentable +abstraction. + +"The lad has come out!" said Sir Austin. "His adoption of the legal +form is amusing. He trifles with vice, true: people newly initiated +are as hardy as its intimates, and a young sinner's amusements will +resemble those of a confirmed debauchee. The satiated, and the +insatiate, appetite alike appeal to extremes. You are astonished at +this revelation of your son's condition. I expected it; though +assuredly, believe me, not this sudden and indisputable proof of it. +But I knew that the seed was in him, and therefore I have not +latterly invited him to Raynham. School, and the corruption there, +will bear its fruits sooner or later. I could advise you, Thompson, +what to do with him: it would be my plan." + +Mr. Thompson murmured, like a true courtier, that he should esteem +it an honour to be favoured with Sir Austin Feverel's advice: +secretly resolute, like a true Briton, to follow his own. + +"Let him, then," continued the baronet, "see vice in its nakedness. +While he has yet some innocence, nauseate him! Vice, taken little by +little, usurps gradually the whole creature. My counsel to you, +Thompson, would be, to drag him through the sinks of town." + +Mr. Thompson began to blink again. + +"Oh, I shall punish him, Sir Austin! Do not fear me, sir. I have no +tenderness for vice." + +"That is not what is wanted, Thompson. You mistake me. He should be +dealt with gently. Heavens! do you hope to make him hate vice by +making him a martyr for its sake? You must descend from the pedestal +of age to become his Mentor: cause him to see how certainly and +pitilessly vice itself punishes: accompany him into its haunts"---- + +"Over town?" broke forth Mr. Thompson. + +"Over town," said the baronet. + +"And depend upon it," he added, "that, until fathers act thoroughly +up to their duty, we shall see the sights we see in great cities, +and hear the tales we hear in little villages, with death and +calamity in our homes, and a legacy of sorrow and shame to the +generations to come. I do aver," he exclaimed, becoming excited, +"that, if it were not for the duty to my son, and the hope I cherish +in him, I, seeing the accumulation of misery we are handing down to +an innocent posterity--to whom, through our sin, the fresh breath of +life will be foul--I--yes! I would hide my name! For whither are we +tending? What home is pure absolutely? What cannot our doctors and +lawyers tell us?" + +Mr. Thompson acquiesced significantly. + +"And what is to come of this?" Sir Austin continued. "When the sins +of the fathers are multiplied by the sons, is not perdition the +final sum of things? And is not life, the boon of heaven, growing to +be the devil's game utterly? But for my son, I would hide my name. I +would not bequeath it to be cursed by them that walk above my +grave!" + +This was indeed a terrible view of existence. Mr. Thompson felt +uneasy. There was a dignity in his client, an impressiveness in his +speech, that silenced remonstrating reason and the cry of long years +of comfortable respectability. Mr. Thompson went to church +regularly; paid his rates and dues without overmuch, or at least +more than common, grumbling. On the surface he was a good citizen, +fond of his children, faithful to his wife, devoutly marching to a +fair seat in heaven on a path paved by something better than a +thousand a year. But here was a man sighting him from below the +surface, and though it was an unfair, unaccustomed, not to say +un-English, method of regarding one's fellow-man, Mr. Thompson was +troubled by it. What though his client exaggerated? Facts were at +the bottom of what he said. And he was acute--he had unmasked +Ripton! Since Ripton's exposure he winced at a personal application +in the text his client preached from. Possibly this was the secret +source of part of his anger against that peccant youth. + +Mr. Thompson shook his head, and, with dolefully puckered visage and +a pitiable contraction of his shoulders, rose slowly up from his +chair. Apparently he was about to speak, but he straightway turned +and went meditatively to a side-recess in the room, whereof he +opened a door, drew forth a tray and a decanter labelled PORT, +filled a glass for his client, deferentially invited him to partake +of it; filled another glass for himself, and drank. + +That was his reply. + +Sir Austin never took wine before dinner. Thompson had looked as if +he meant to speak: he waited for Thompson's words. + +Mr. Thompson saw that, as his client did not join him in his glass, +the eloquence of that Porty reply was lost on his client. + +Having slowly ingurgitated and meditated upon this precious draught, +and turned its flavour over and over with an aspect of potent +Judicial wisdom (one might have thought that he was weighing mankind +in the balance), the old lawyer heaved, and said, sharpening his +lips over the admirable vintage, "The world is in a very sad state, +I fear, Sir Austin!" + +His client gazed at him queerly. + +"But that," Mr. Thompson added immediately, ill-concealing by his +gaze the glowing intestinal congratulations going on within him, +"that is, I think you would say, Sir Austin--if I could but prevail +upon you--a tolerably good character wine!" + +"There's virtue somewhere, I see, Thompson!" Sir Austin murmured, +without disturbing his legal adviser's dimples. + +The old lawyer sat down to finish his glass, saying, that such a +wine was not to be had everywhere. + +They were then outwardly silent for a space. Inwardly one of them +was full of riot and jubilant uproar: as if the solemn fields of law +were suddenly to be invaded and possessed by troops of Bacchanals: +and to preserve a decently wretched physiognomy over it, and keep on +terms with his companion, he had to grimace like a melancholy clown +in a pantomime. + +Mr. Thompson brushed back his hair. The baronet was still expectant. +Mr. Thompson sighed deeply, and emptied his glass. He combated the +change that had come over him. He tried not to see Ruby. He tried to +feel miserable, and it was not in him. He spoke, drawing what +appropriate inspirations he could from his client's countenance, to +show that they had views in common: "Degenerating sadly, I fear!" + +The baronet nodded. + +"According to what my wine-merchants say," continued Mr. Thompson, +"there can be no doubt about it." + +Sir Austin stared. + +"It's the grape, or the ground, or something," Mr. Thompson went on. +"All I can say is, our youngsters will have a bad look-out! In my +opinion Government should be compelled to send out a Commission to +inquire into the cause. To Englishmen it would be a public calamity. +It surprises me--I hear men sit and talk despondently of this +extraordinary disease of the vine, and not one of them seems to +think it incumbent on him to act, and do his best to stop it." He +fronted his client like a man who accuses an enormous public +delinquency. "Nobody makes a stir! The apathy of Englishmen will +become proverbial. Pray, try it, Sir Austin! Pray, allow me. Such a +wine cannot disagree at any hour. Do! I am allowanced two glasses +three hours before dinner. Stomachic. I find it agrees with me +surprisingly: quite a new man. I suppose it will last our time. It +must! What should we do? There's no Law possible without it. Not a +lawyer of us could live. Ours is an occupation which dries the +blood." + +The scene with Ripton had unnerved him, the wine had renovated, and +gratitude to the wine inspired his tongue. He thought that his +client, of the whimsical mind, though undoubtedly correct moral +views, had need of a glass. + +"Now that very wine--Sir Austin--I think I do not err in saying, +that very wine your respected father, Sir Pylcher Feverel, used to +taste whenever he came to consult my father, when I was a boy. And I +remember one day being called in, and Sir Pylcher himself poured me +out a glass. I wish I could call in Ripton now, and do the same. No! +Leniency in such a case as that!--The wine would not hurt him--I +doubt if there be much left for him to welcome his guests with. Ha! +ha! Now if I could persuade you, Sir Austin, as you do not take wine +before dinner, some day to favour me with your company at my little +country cottage--I have a wine there--the fellow to that--I think +you would, I do think you would"--Mr. Thompson meant to say, he +thought his client would arrive at something of a similar jocund +contemplation of his fellows in their degeneracy that inspirited +lawyers after potation, but condensed the sensual promise into +"highly approve." + +Sir Austin speculated on his legal adviser with a sour mouth +comically compressed. + +It stood clear to him that Thompson before his Port, and Thompson +after, were two different men. To indoctrinate him now was too late: +it was perhaps the time to make the positive use of him he wanted. + +He pencilled on a handy slip of paper: "Two prongs of a fork; the +World stuck between them--Port and the Palate: 'Tis one which fails +first--Down goes World;" and again the hieroglyph--"Port-spectacles." +He said, "I shall gladly accompany you this evening, Thompson," +words that transfigured the delighted lawyer, and ensigned the +skeleton of a great Aphorism to his pocket, there to gather flesh +and form, with numberless others in a like condition. + +"I came to visit my lawyer," he said to himself. "I think I have +been dealing with The World in epitome!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE SYSTEM ENCOUNTERS THE WILD OATS +SPECIAL PLEA + + +The rumour circulated that Sir Austin Feverel, the recluse of +Raynham, the rank misogynist, the rich baronet, was in town, looking +out a bride for his only son and uncorrupted heir. Doctor Benjamin +Bairam was the excellent authority. Doctor Bairam had safely +delivered Mrs. Deborah Gossip of this interesting bantling, which +was forthwith dandled in dozens of feminine laps. Doctor Bairam +could boast the first interview with the famous recluse. He had it +from his own lips that the object of the baronet was to look out a +bride for his only son and uncorrupted heir; "and," added the +doctor, "she'll be lucky who gets him." Which was interpreted to +mean, that he would be a catch; the doctor probably intending to +allude to certain extraordinary difficulties in the way of a choice. + +A demand was made on the publisher of THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP for all +his outstanding copies. Conventionalities were defied. A +summer-shower of cards fell on the baronet's table. + +He had few male friends. He shunned the Clubs as nests of scandal. +The cards he contemplated were mostly those of the sex, with the +husband, if there was a husband, evidently dragged in for +propriety's sake. He perused the cards and smiled. He knew their +purpose. What terrible light Thompson, and Bairam had thrown on some +of them! Heavens! in what a state was the blood of this Empire. + +Before commencing his campaign he called on two ancient intimates, +Lord Heddon, and his distant cousin Darley Absworthy, both Members +of Parliament, useful men, though gouty, who had sown in their time +a fine crop of wild oats, and advocated the advantage of doing so, +seeing that they did not fancy themselves the worse for it. He found +one with an imbecile son and the other with consumptive daughters. +"So much," he wrote in the Note-book, "for the Wild Oats theory!" + +Darley was proud of his daughters' white and pink skins. "Beautiful +complexions," he called them. The eldest was in the market, +immensely admired. Sir Austin Was introduced to her. She talked +fluently and sweetly. A youth not on his guard, a simple schoolboy +youth, or even a man, might have fallen in love with her, she was so +affable and fair. There was something poetic about her. And she was +quite well, she said, the baronet frequently questioning her on that +point. She intimated that she was robust; but towards the close of +their conversation her hand would now and then travel to her side, +and she breathed painfully an instant, saying, "Isn't it odd? Dora, +Adela, and myself, we all feel the same queer sensation--about the +heart, I think it is--after talking much." + +Sir Austin nodded and blinked sadly, exclaiming to his soul, "Wild +oats! wild oats!" + +He did not ask permission to see Dora and Adela. + +Lord Heddon vehemently preached wild oats. + +"It's all nonsense, Feverel," he said, "about bringing up a lad out +of the common way. He's all the better for a little racketing when +he's green--feels his bone and muscle--learns to know the world. +He'll never be a man if he hasn't played at the old game one time in +his life, and the earlier the better. I've always found the best +fellows were wildish once. I don't care what he does when he's a +greenhorn; besides, he's got an excuse for it then. You can't expect +to have a man, if he doesn't take a man's food. You'll have a +milksop. And, depend upon it, when he does break out he'll go to the +devil, and nobody pities him. Look what those fellows, the grocers, +do when they get hold of a young--what d'ye call 'em?--apprentice. +They know the scoundrel was born with a sweet tooth. Well! they give +him the run of the shop, and in a very short time he soberly deals +out the goods, a devilish deal too wise to abstract a morsel even +for the pleasure of stealing. I know you have contrary theories. You +hold that the young grocer should have a soul above sugar. It won't +do! Take my word for it, Feverel, it's a dangerous experiment, that +of bringing up flesh and blood in harness. No colt will bear it, or +he's a tame beast. And look you: take it on medical grounds. Early +excesses the frame will recover from: late ones break the +constitution. There's the case in a nutshell. How's your son?" + +"Sound and well!" replied Sir Austin. "And yours?" + +"Oh, Lipscombe's always the same!" Lord Heddon sighed peevishly. +"He's quiet--that's one good thing; but there's no getting the +country to take him, so I must give up hopes of that." + +Lord Lipscombe entering the room just then, Sir Austin surveyed him, +and was not astonished at the refusal of the country to take him. + +"Wild oats!" he thought, as he contemplated the headless, +degenerate, weedy issue and result. + +Both Darley Absworthy and Lord Heddon spoke of the marriage of their +offspring as a matter of course. "And if I were not a coward," Sir +Austin confessed to himself, "I should stand forth and forbid the +banns! This universal ignorance of the inevitable consequence of +sin is frightful! The wild oats plea is a torpedo that seems to have +struck the world, and rendered it morally insensible." However, they +silenced him. He was obliged to spare their feelings on a subject to +him so deeply sacred. The healthful image of his noble boy rose +before him, a triumphant living rejoinder to any hostile argument. + +He was content to remark to his doctor, that he thought the third +generation of wild oats would be a pretty thin crop! + +Families against whom neither Thompson lawyer nor Bairam physician +could recollect a progenitorial blot, either on the male or female +side, were not numerous. "Only," said the doctor, "you really must +not be too exacting in these days, my dear Sir Austin. It is +impossible to contest your principle, and you are doing mankind +incalculable service in calling its attention to this the gravest of +its duties: but as the stream of civilization progresses we must be +a little taken in the lump, as it were. The world is, I can assure +you--and I do not look only above the surface, you can believe--the +world is awakening to the vital importance of the question." + +"Doctor," replied Sir Austin, "if you had a pure-blood Arab barb +would you cross him with a screw?" + +"Decidedly not," said the doctor. + +"Then permit me to say, I shall employ every care to match my son +according to his merits," Sir Austin returned. "I trust the world is +awakening, as you observe. I have been to my publisher, since my +arrival in town, with a manuscript 'Proposal for a New System of +Education of our British Youth,' which may come in opportunely. I +think I am entitled to speak on that subject." + +"Certainly," said the doctor. "You will admit, Sir Austin, that, +compared with continental nations--our neighbours, for instance--we +shine to advantage, in morals, as in everything else. I hope you +admit that?" + +"I find no consolation in shining by comparison with a lower +standard," said the baronet. "If I compare the enlightenment of your +views--for you admit my principle--with the obstinate incredulity of +a country doctor's, who sees nothing of the world, you are hardly +flattered, I presume?" + +Doctor Bairam would hardly be flattered at such a comparison, +assuredly, he interjected. + +"Besides," added the baronet, "the French make no pretences, and +thereby escape one of the main penalties of hypocrisy. Whereas +we!--but I am not their advocate, credit me. It is better, perhaps, +to pay our homage to virtue. At least it delays the spread of entire +corruptness." + +Doctor Bairam wished the baronet success, and diligently endeavoured +to assist his search for a mate worthy of the pure-blood barb, by +putting several mamas, whom he visited, on the alert. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A DIVERSION PLAYED ON A PENNY-WHISTLE + + +Away with Systems! Away with a corrupt World! Let us breathe the air +of the Enchanted Island. + +Golden lie the meadows: golden run the streams; red gold is on the +pine-stems. The sun is coming down to earth, and walks the fields +and the waters. + +The sun is coming down to earth, and the fields and the waters shout +to him golden shouts. He comes, and his heralds run before him, and +touch the leaves of oaks and planes and beeches lucid green, and the +pine-stems redder gold; leaving brightest footprints upon +thickly-weeded banks, where the foxglove's last upper-bells incline, +and bramble-shoots wander amid moist rich herbage. The plumes of the +woodland are alight; and beyond them, over the open, 'tis a race +with the long-thrown shadows; a race across the heaths and up the +hills, till, at the farthest bourne of mounted eastern cloud, the +heralds of the sun lay rosy fingers and rest. + +Sweet are the shy recesses of the woodland. The ray treads softly +there. A film athwart the pathway quivers many-hued against purple +shade fragrant with warm pines, deep moss-beds, feathery ferns. The +little brown squirrel drops tail, and leaps; the inmost bird is +startled to a chance tuneless note. From silence into silence things +move. + +Peeps of the revelling splendour above and around enliven the +conscious full heart within. The flaming West, the crimson heights, +shower their glories through voluminous leafage. But these are +bowers where deep bliss dwells, imperial joy, that owes no fealty to +yonder glories, in which the young lamb gambols and the spirits of +men are glad. Descend, great Radiance! embrace creation with +beneficent fire, and pass from us! You and the vice-regal light that +succeeds to you, and all heavenly pageants, are the ministers and +the slaves of the throbbing content within. + +For this is the home of the enchantment. Here, secluded from vexed +shores, the prince and princess of the island meet: here like +darkling nightingales they sit, and into eyes and ears and hands +pour endless ever-fresh treasures of their souls. + +Roll on, grinding wheels of the world: cries of ships going down in +a calm, groans of a System which will not know its rightful hour of +exultation, complain to the universe. You are not heard here. + +He calls her by her name, Lucy: and she, blushing at her great +boldness, has called him by his, Richard. Those two names are the +key-notes of the wonderful harmonies the angels sing aloft. + +"Lucy! my beloved!" + +"O Richard!" + +Out in the world there, on the skirts of the woodland, a sheep-boy +pipes to meditative eye on a penny-whistle. + +Love's musical instrument is as old, and as poor: it has but two +stops; and yet, you see, the cunning musician does thus much with +it! + +Other speech they have little; light foam playing upon waves of +feeling, and of feeling compact, that bursts only when the sweeping +volume is too wild, and is no more than their sigh of tenderness +spoken. + +Perhaps love played his tune so well because their natures had +unblunted edges, and were keen for bliss, confiding in it as natural +food. To gentlemen and ladies he fine-draws upon the viol, +ravishingly; or blows into the mellow bassoon; or rouses the heroic +ardours of the trumpet; or, it may be, commands the whole Orchestra +for them. And they are pleased. He is still the cunning musician. +They languish, and taste ecstasy: but it is, however sonorous, an +earthly concert. For them the spheres move not to two notes. They +have lost, or forfeited and never known, the first supersensual +spring of the ripe senses into passion; when they carry the soul +with them, and have the privileges of spirits to walk disembodied, +boundlessly to feel. Or one has it, and the other is a dead body. +Ambrosia let them eat, and drink the nectar: here sit a couple to +whom Love's simple bread and water is a finer feast. + +Pipe, happy sheep-boy, Love! Irradiated angels, unfold your wings +and lift your voices! + +They have outflown philosophy. Their instinct has shot beyond the +ken of science. They were made for their Eden. + +"And this divine gift was in store for me!" + +So runs the internal outcry of each, clasping each: it is their +recurring refrain to the harmonies. How it illumined the years gone +by and suffused the living Future! + +"You for me: I for you!" + +"We are born for each other!" + +They believe that the angels have been busy about them from their +cradles. The celestial hosts have worthily striven to bring them +together. And, O Victory! O wonder! after toil and pain, and +difficulties exceeding, the celestial hosts have succeeded! + +"Here we two sit who are written above as one!" + +Pipe, happy Love! pipe on to these dear innocents! + +The tide of colour has ebbed from the upper sky. In the West the sea +of sunken fire draws back; and the stars leap forth, and tremble, +and retire before the advancing moon, who slips the silver train of +cloud from her shoulders, and, with her foot upon the pine-tops, +surveys heaven. + +"Lucy, did you never dream of meeting me?" + +"O Richard! yes; for I remembered you." + +"Lucy! and did you pray that we might meet?" + +"I did!" + +Young as when she looked upon the lovers in Paradise, the fair +Immortal journeys onward. Fronting her, it is not night but veiled +day. Full half the sky is flushed. Not darkness, not day, but the +nuptials of the two. + +"My own! my own for ever! You are pledged to me? Whisper!" + +He hears the delicious music. + +"And you are mine?" + +A soft beam travels to the fern-covert under the pine-wood where +they sit, and for answer he has her eyes: turned to him an instant, +timidly fluttering over the depths of his, and then downcast; for +through her eyes her soul is naked to him. + +"Lucy! my bride! my life!" + +The night-jar spins his dark monotony on the branch of the pine. The +soft beam travels round them, and listens to their hearts. Their +lips are locked. + +Pipe no more, Love, for a time! Pipe as you will you cannot express +their first kiss; nothing of its sweetness, and of the sacredness of +it nothing. St. Cecilia up aloft, before the silver organ-pipes of +Paradise, pressing fingers upon all the notes of which Love is but +one, from her you may hear it. + +So Love is silent. Out in the world there, on the skirts of the +woodland, the self-satisfied sheep-boy delivers a last complacent +squint down the length of his penny-whistle, and, with a flourish +correspondingly awry, he also marches into silence, hailed by +supper. The woods are still. There is heard but the night-jar +spinning on the pine-branch, circled by moonlight. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +CELEBRATES THE TIME-HONOURED TREATMENT OF A DRAGON BY THE HERO + + +Enchanted Islands have not yet rooted out their old brood of +dragons. Wherever there is romance, these monsters come by inimical +attraction. Because the heavens are certainly propitious to true +lovers, the beasts of the abysses are banded to destroy them, +stimulated by innumerable sad victories; and every love-tale is an +Epic War of the upper and lower powers. I wish good fairies were a +little more active. They seem to be cajoled into security by the +happiness of their favourites; whereas the wicked are always alert, +and circumspect. They let the little ones shut their eyes to fancy +they are not seen, and then commence. + +These appointments and meetings, involving a start from the +dinner-table at the hour of contemplative digestion and prime +claret; the hour when the wise youth Adrian delighted to talk at his +ease--to recline in dreamy consciousness that a work of good was +going on inside him; these abstractions from his studies, excesses +of gaiety, and glumness, heavings of the chest, and other odd signs, +but mainly the disgusting behaviour of his pupil at the +dinner-table, taught Adrian to understand, though the young +gentleman was clever in excuses, that he had somehow learnt there +was another half to the divided Apple of Creation, and had embarked +upon the great voyage of discovery of the difference between the two +halves. With his usual coolness Adrian debated whether he might be +in the observatory or the practical stage of the voyage. For +himself, as a man and a philosopher, Adrian had no objection to its +being either; and he had only to consider which was temporarily most +threatening to the ridiculous System he had to support. Richard's +absence annoyed him. The youth was vivacious, and his enthusiasm +good fun; and besides, when he left table, Adrian had to sit alone +with Hippias and the Eighteenth Century, from both of whom he had +extracted all the amusement that could be got, and he saw his +digestion menaced by the society of two ruined stomachs, who bored +him just when he loved himself most. Poor Hippias was now so reduced +that he had profoundly to calculate whether a particular dish, or an +extra glass of wine, would have a bitter effect on him and be felt +through the remainder of his years. He was in the habit of uttering +his calculations half aloud, wherein the prophetic doubts of +experience, and the succulent insinuations of appetite, contended +hotly. It was horrible to hear him, so let us pardon Adrian for +tempting him to a decision in favour of the moment. + +"Happy to take wine with you," Adrian would say, and Hippias would +regard the decanter with a pained forehead, and put up the doctor. + +"Drink, nephew Hippy, and think of the doctor to-morrow!" the +Eighteenth Century cheerily ruffles her cap at him, and recommends +her own practice. + +"It's this literary work!" interjects Hippias, handling his glass of +remorse. "I don't know what else it can be. You have no idea how +anxious I feel. I have frightful dreams. I'm perpetually anxious." + +"No wonder," says Adrian, who enjoys the childish simplicity to +which an absorbed study of his sensational existence has brought +poor Hippias. "No wonder. Ten years of Fairy Mythology! Could any +one hope to sleep in peace after that? As to your digestion, no one +has a digestion who is in the doctor's hands. They prescribe from +dogmas, and don't count on the system. They have cut down from two +bottles to two glasses. It's absurd. You can't sleep, because your +system is crying out for what it's accustomed to." + +Hippias sips his Madeira with a niggardly confidence, but assures +Adrian that he really should not like to venture on a bottle now: it +would be rank madness to venture on a bottle now, he thinks. Last +night only, after partaking, under protest, of that rich French +dish, or was it the duck?--Adrian advised him to throw the blame on +that vulgar bird.--Say the duck, then. Last night, he was no sooner +stretched in bed, than he seemed to be of an enormous size: all his +limbs--his nose, his mouth, his toes--were elephantine! An elephant +was a pigmy to him. And his hugeousness seemed to increase the +instant he shut his eyes. He turned on this side; he turned on that. +He lay on his back; he tried putting his face to the pillow; and he +continued to swell. He wondered the room could hold him--he thought +he must burst it--and absolutely lit a candle, and went to the +looking-glass to see whether he was bearable. + +By this time Adrian and Richard were laughing uncontrollably. He +had, however, a genial auditor in the Eighteenth Century, who +declared it to be a new disease, not known in her day, and deserving +investigation. She was happy to compare sensations with him, but +hers were not of the complex order, and a potion soon righted her. +In fact, her system appeared to be a debatable ground for aliment +and medicine, on which the battle was fought, and, when over, she +was none the worse, as she joyfully told Hippias. Never looked +ploughman on prince, or village belle on Court Beauty, with half the +envy poor Nineteenth-century Hippias expended in his gaze on the +Eighteenth. He was too serious to note much the laughter of the +young men. + +This "Tragedy of a Cooking-Apparatus," as Adrian designated the +malady of Hippias, was repeated regularly every evening. It was +natural for any youth to escape as quick as he could from such a +table of stomachs. + +Adrian bore with his conduct considerately, until a letter from the +baronet, describing the house and maternal System of a Mrs. Caroline +Grandison, and the rough grain of hopefulness in her youngest +daughter, spurred him to think of his duties, and see what was going +on. He gave Richard half-an-hour's start, and then put on his hat to +follow his own keen scent, leaving Hippias and the Eighteenth +Century to piquet. + +In the lane near Belthorpe he met a maid of the farm not unknown to +him, one Molly Davenport by name, a buxom lass, who, on seeing him, +invoked her Good Gracious, the generic maid's familiar, and was +instructed by reminiscences vivid, if ancient, to giggle. + +"Are you looking for your young gentleman?" Molly presently asked. + +Adrian glanced about the lane like a cool brigand, to see if the +coast was clear, and replied to her, "I am, miss. I want you to tell +me about him." + +"Dear!" said the buxom lass, "was you coming for me to-night to +know?" + +Adrian rebuked her: for her bad grammar, apparently. + +"'Cause I can't stop out long to-night," Molly explained, taking the +rebuke to refer altogether to her bad grammar. + +"You may go in when you please, miss. Is that any one coming? Come +here in the shade." + +"Now, get along!" said Miss Molly. + +Adrian spoke with resolution. "Listen to me, Molly Davenport!" He +put a coin in her hand, which had a medical effect in calming her +to attention. "I want to know whether you have seen him at all?" + +"Who? Your young gentleman? I sh'd think I did. I seen him to-night +only. Ain't he growed handsome. He's al'ays about Beltharp now. It +ain't to fire no more ricks. He's afire 'unself. Ain't you seen 'em +together? He's after the missis"---- + +Adrian requested Miss Davenport to be respectful, and confine +herself to particulars. This buxom lass then told him that her young +missis and Adrian's young gentleman were a pretty couple, and met +one another every night. The girl swore for their innocence. + +"As for Miss Lucy, she haven't a bit of art in her, nor have he." + +"They're all nature, I suppose," said Adrian. "How is it I don't see +her at church?" + +"She's Catholic, or somethink," said Molly. "Her feyther was, and a +leftenant. She've a Cross in her bedroom. She don't go to church. I +see you there last Sunday a-lookin' so solemn," and Molly stroked +her hand down her chin to give it length. + +Adrian insisted on her keeping to facts. It was dark, and in the +dark he was indifferent to the striking contrasts suggested by the +lass, but he wanted to hear facts, and he again bribed her to impart +nothing but facts. Upon which she told him further, that her young +lady was an innocent artless creature who had been to school upwards +of three years with the nuns, and had a little money of her own, and +was beautiful enough to be a lord's lady, and had been in love with +Master Richard ever since she was a little girl. Molly had got from +a friend of hers up at the Abbey, Mary Garner, the housemaid who +cleaned Master Richard's room, a bit of paper once with the young +gentleman's handwriting, and had given it to her Miss Lucy, and Miss +Lucy had given her a gold sovereign for it--just for his +handwriting! Miss Lucy did not seem happy at the farm, because of +that young Tom, who was always leering at her, and to be sure she +was quite a lady, and could play, and sing, and dress with the best. + +"She looks like angels in her nightgown!" Molly wound up. + +The next moment she ran up close, and speaking for the first time as +if there were a distinction of position between them, petitioned: +"Mr. Harley! you won't go for doin' any harm to 'em 'cause of what I +said, will you now? Do say you won't now, Mr. Harley! She is good, +though she's a Catholic. She was kind to me when I was ill, and I +wouldn't have her crossed--I'd rather be showed up myself, I would!" + +The wise youth gave no positive promise to Molly, and she had to +read his consent in a relaxation of his austerity. The noise of a +lumbering foot plodding down the lane caused her to be abruptly +dismissed. Molly took to flight, the lumbering foot accelerated its +pace, and the pastoral appeal to her flying skirts was heard--"Moll! +yau theyre! It be I--Bantam!" But the sprightly Silvia would not +stop to his wooing, and Adrian turned away laughing at these +Arcadians. + +Adrian was a lazy dragon. All he did for the present was to hint and +tease. "It's the Inevitable!" he said, and asked himself why he +should seek to arrest it. He had no faith in the System. Heavy +Benson had. Benson of the slow thick-lidded antediluvian eye and +loose-crumpled skin; Benson, the Saurian, the woman-hater; Benson +was wide awake. A sort of rivalry existed between the wise youth and +heavy Benson. The fidelity of the latter dependant had moved the +baronet to commit to him a portion of the management of the Raynham +estate, and this Adrian did not like. No one who aspires to the +honourable office of leading another by the nose can tolerate a +party in his ambition. Benson's surly instinct told him he was in +the wise youth's way, and he resolved to give his master a striking +proof of his superior faithfulness. For some weeks the Saurian eye +had been on the two secret creatures. Heavy Benson saw letters come +and go in the day, and now the young gentleman was off and out every +night, and seemed to be on wings. Benson knew whither he went, and +the object he went for. It was a woman--that was enough. The Saurian +eye had actually seen the sinful thing lure the hope of Raynham into +the shades. He composed several epistles of warning to the baronet +of the work that was going on; but before sending one he wished to +record a little of their guilty conversation; and for this purpose +the faithful fellow trotted over the dews to eavesdrop, and thereby +aroused the good fairy, in the person of Tom Bakewell, the sole +confidant of Richard's state. + +Tom said to his young master, "Do you know what, sir? You be +watched!" + +Richard, in a fury, bade him name the wretch, and Tom hung his arms, +and aped the respectable protrusion of the butler's head. + +"It's he, is it?" cried Richard. "He shall rue it, Tom. If I find +him near me when we're together he shall never forget it." + +"Don't hit too hard, sir," Tom suggested. "You hit mortal hard when +you're in earnest, you know." + +Richard averred he would forgive anything but that, and told Tom to +be within hail to-morrow night--he knew where. By the hour of the +appointment it was out of the lover's mind. + +Lady Blandish dined that evening at Raynham, by Adrian's pointed +invitation. According to custom, Richard started up and off, with +few excuses. The lady exhibited no surprise. She and Adrian likewise +strolled forth to enjoy the air of the Summer night. They had no +intention of spying. Still they may have thought, by meeting Richard +and his inamorata, there was a chance of laying a foundation of +ridicule to sap the passion. They may have thought so--they were on +no spoken understanding. + +"I have seen the little girl," said Lady Blandish. "She is +pretty--she would be telling if she were well set up. She speaks +well. How absurd it is of that class to educate their women above +their station! The child is really too good for a farmer. I noticed +her before I knew of this; she has enviable hair. I suppose she +doesn't paint her eyelids. Just the sort of person to take a young +man. I thought there was something wrong. I received, the day before +yesterday, an impassioned poem evidently not intended for me. My +hair was gold. My meeting him was foretold. My eyes were homes of +light fringed with night. I sent it back, correcting the colours." + +"Which was death to the rhymes," said Adrian. "I saw her this +morning. The boy hasn't bad taste. As you say, she is too good for +a farmer. Such a spark would explode any System. She slightly +affected mine. The Huron is stark mad about her." + +"But we must positively write and tell his father," said Lady +Blandish. + +The wise youth did not see why they should exaggerate a trifle. The +lady said she would have an interview with Richard, and then write, +as it was her duty to do. Adrian shrugged, and was for going into +the scientific explanation of Richard's conduct, in which the lady +had to discourage him. + +"Poor boy!" she sighed. "I am really sorry for him. I hope he will +not feel it too strongly. They feel strongly, father and son." + +"And select wisely," Adrian added. + +"That's another thing," said Lady Blandish. + +Their talk was then of the dulness of neighbouring county people, +about whom, it seemed, there was little or no scandal afloat: of the +lady's loss of the season in town, which she professed not to +regret, though she complained of her general weariness: of whether +Mr. Morton of Poer Hall would propose to Mrs. Doria, and of the +probable despair of the hapless curate of Lobourne; and other +gossip, partly in French. + +They rounded the lake, and got upon the road through the park to +Lobourne. The moon had risen. The atmosphere was warm and pleasant. + +"Quite a lover's night," said Lady Blandish. + +"And I, who have none to love--pity me!" The wise youth attempted a +sigh. + +"And never will have," said Lady Blandish, curtly. "You _buy_ your +loves." + +Adrian protested. However, he did not plead verbally against the +impeachment, though the lady's decisive insight astonished him. He +began to respect her, relishing her exquisite contempt, and he +reflected that widows could be terrible creatures. + +He had hoped to be a little sentimental with Lady Blandish, knowing +her romantic. This mixture of the harshest common sense and an air +of "_I_ know you men," with romance and refined temperament, subdued +the wise youth more than a positive accusation supported by +witnesses would have done. He looked at the lady. Her face was +raised to the moon. She knew nothing--she had simply spoken from the +fulness of her human knowledge, and had forgotten her words. +Perhaps, after all, her admiration, or whatever feeling it was, for +the baronet, was sincere, and really the longing for a virtuous man. +Perhaps she had tried the opposite set pretty much. Adrian shrugged. +Whenever the wise youth encountered a mental difficulty he +instinctively lifted his shoulders to equal altitudes, to show that +he had no doubt there was a balance in the case--plenty to be said +on both sides, which was the same to him as a definite solution. + +At their tryst in the wood, abutting on Raynham Park, wrapped in +themselves, piped to by tireless Love, Richard and Lucy sat, toying +with eternal moments. How they seem as if they would never end! What +mere sparks they are when they have died out! And how in the +distance of time they revive, and extend, and glow, and make us +think them full the half, and the best of the fire, of our lives! + +With the onward flow of intimacy, the two happy lovers ceased to be +so shy of common themes, and their speech did not reject all as +dross that was not pure gold of emotion. + +Lucy was very inquisitive about everything and everybody at Raynham. +Whoever had been about Richard since his birth, she must know the +history of, and he for a kiss will do her bidding. + +Thus goes the tender duet: + +"You should know my cousin Austin, Lucy.--Darling! Beloved!" + +"My own! Richard!" + +"You should know my cousin Austin. You shall know him. He would take +to you best of them all, and you to him. He is in the tropics now, +looking out a place--it's a secret--for poor English working-men to +emigrate to and found a colony in that part of the world:--my white +angel!" + +"Dear love!" + +"He is such a noble fellow! Nobody here understands him but me. +Isn't it strange? Since I met you I love him better! That's because +I love all that's good and noble better now--Beautiful! I love--I +love you!" + +"My Richard!" + +"What do you think I've determined, Lucy? If my father----but no! my +father does love me.--No! he will not; and we will be happy together +here. And I will win my way with you. And whatever I win will be +yours; for it will be owing to you. I feel as if I had no strength +but yours--none! and you make me--O Lucy!" + +His voice ebbs. Presently Lucy murmurs-- + +"Your father, Richard." + +"Yes, my father?" + +"Dearest Richard! I feel so afraid of him." + +"He loves me, and will love you, Lucy." + +"But I am so poor and humble, Richard." + +"No one I have ever seen is like you, Lucy." + +"You think so, because you"---- + +"What?" + +"Love me," comes the blushing whisper, and the duet gives place to +dumb variations, performed equally in concert. + +It is resumed. + +"You are fond of the knights, Lucy. Austin is as brave as any of +them.--My own bride! Oh, how I adore you! When you are gone, I could +fall upon the grass you tread upon, and kiss it. My breast feels +empty of my heart--Lucy! if we lived in those days, I should have +been a knight, and have won honour and glory for you. Oh! one can do +nothing now. My lady-love! My lady-love!--A tear?--Lucy?" + +"Dearest! Ah, Richard! I am not a lady." + +"Who dares say that? Not a lady--the angel I love!" + +"Think, Richard, who I am." + +"My beautiful! I think that God made you, and has given you to me." + +Her eyes fill with tears, and, as she lifts them heavenward to thank +her God, the light of heaven strikes on them, and she is so radiant +in her pure beauty that the limbs of the young man tremble. + +"Lucy! O heavenly spirit! Lucy!" + +Tenderly her lips part--"I do not weep for sorrow." + +The big bright drops lighten, and roll down, imaged in his soul. + +They lean together--shadows of ineffable tenderness playing on their +thrilled cheeks and brows. + +He lifts her hand, and presses his mouth to it. She has seen little +of mankind, but her soul tells her this one is different from +others, and at the thought, in her great joy, tears must come fast, +or her heart will break--tears of boundless thanksgiving. And he, +gazing on those soft, ray-illumined, dark-edged eyes, and the grace +of her loose falling tresses, feels a scarce-sufferable holy fire +streaming through his members. + +It is long ere they speak in open tones. + +"O happy day when we met!" + +What says the voice of one, the soul of the other echoes. + +"O glorious heaven looking down on us!" + +Their souls are joined, are made one for evermore beneath that +bending benediction. + +"O eternity of bliss!" + +Then the diviner mood passes, and they drop to earth. + +"Lucy! come with me to-night, and look at the place where you are +some day to live. Come, and I will row you on the lake. You remember +what you said in your letter that you dreamt?--that we were floating +over the shadow of the Abbey to the nuns at work by torchlight +felling the cypress, and they handed us each a sprig. Why, darling, +it was the best omen in the world, their felling the old trees. And +you write such lovely letters. So pure and sweet they are. I love +the nuns for having taught you." + +"Ah, Richard! See! we forget! Ah!" she lifts up her face pleadingly, +as to plead against herself, "even if your father forgives my birth, +he will not my religion. And, dearest, though I would die for you I +cannot change it. It would seem that I was denying God; and--oh! it +would make me ashamed of my love." + +"Fear nothing!" He winds her about with his arm. "Come! He will love +us both, and love you the more for being faithful to your father's +creed. You don't know him, Lucy. He seems harsh and stern--he is +full of kindness and love. He isn't at all a bigot. And besides, +when he hears what the nuns have done for you, won't he thank them, +as I do? And--oh! I must speak to him soon, and you must be prepared +to see him soon, for I cannot bear your remaining at Belthorpe, like +a jewel in a sty. Mind! I'm not saying a word against your uncle. I +declare I love everybody and everything that sees you and touches +you. Stay! it _is_ a wonder how you could have grown there. But you +were not born there, and your father had good blood. Desborough!--there +was a Colonel Desborough--never mind! Come!" + +She dreads to. She begs not to. She is drawn away. + +The woods are silent, and then-- + +"What think you of that for a pretty pastoral?" says a very +different voice. + +Adrian reclined against a pine overlooking the fern-covert. Lady +Blandish was recumbent upon the brown pine-droppings, gazing through +a vista of the lower greenwood which opened out upon the +moon-lighted valley, her hands clasped round one knee, her features +almost stern in their set hard expression. + +They had heard, by involuntarily overhearing about as much as may be +heard in such positions, a luminous word or two. + +The lady did not answer. A movement among the ferns attracted +Adrian, and he stepped down the decline across the pine-roots to +behold heavy Benson below, shaking fern-seed and spidery substances +off his crumpled skin. + +"Is that you, Mr. Hadrian?" called Benson, starting, as he puffed, +and exercised his handkerchief. + +"Is it _you_, Benson, who have had the audacity to spy upon these +Mysteries?" Adrian called back, and coming close to him, added, "You +look as if you had just been well thrashed." + +"Isn't it dreadful, sir?" snuffled Benson. "And his father in +ignorance, Mr. Hadrian!" + +"He shall know, Benson! He shall know how you have endangered your +valuable skin in his service. If Mr. Richard had found you there +just now I wouldn't answer for the consequences." + +"Ha!" Benson spitefully retorted. "This won't go on, Mr. Hadrian. It +shan't, sir. It will be put a stop to to-morrow, sir. I call it +corruption of a young gentleman like him, and harlotry, sir, I call +it. I'd have every jade flogged that made a young innocent gentleman +go on like that, sir." + +"Then why didn't you stop it yourself, Benson? Ah, I see! you +waited--what? This is not the first time you have been attendant on +Apollo and Miss Dryope? You have written to headquarters?" + +"I did my duty, Mr. Hadrian." + +The wise youth returned to Lady Blandish, and informed her of +Benson's zeal. The lady's eyes flashed. "I hope Richard will treat +him as he deserves," she said. + +"Shall we home?" Adrian inquired. + +"Do me a favour," the lady replied. "Get my carriage sent round to +meet me at the park-gates." + +"Won't you?"-- + +"I want to be alone." + +Adrian bowed and left her. She was still sitting with her hands +clasped round one knee, gazing towards the dim ray-strewn valley. + +"An odd creature!" muttered the wise youth. "She's as odd as any of +them. She ought to be a Feverel. I suppose she's graduating for it. +Hang that confounded old ass of a Benson! He has had the impudence +to steal a march on me!" + +The shadow of the cypress was lessening on the lake. The moon was +climbing high. As Richard rowed the boat, Lucy sang to him softly. +She sang first a fresh little French song, reminding him of a day +when she had been asked to sing to him before, and he did not care +to hear. "Did I live?" he thinks. Then she sang to him a bit of one +of those majestic old Gregorian chants, that, wherever you may hear +them, seem to build up cathedral walls about you. The young man +dropped the sculls. The strange solemn notes gave a religious tone +to his love, and wafted him into the knightly ages and the +reverential heart of chivalry. + +Hanging between two heavens on the lake: floating to her voice: the +moon stepping over and through white shoals of soft high clouds +above and below: floating to her voice--no other breath abroad! His +soul went out of his body as he listened. + +They must part. He rows her gently shoreward. + +"I never was so happy as to-night," she murmurs. + +"Look, my Lucy. The lights of the old place are on the lake. Look +where you are to live." + +"Which is your room, Richard?" + +He points it out to her. + +"O Richard! that I were one of the women who wait on you! I should +ask nothing more. How happy she must be!" + +"My darling angel-love. You shall be happy; but all shall wait on +you, and I foremost, Lucy." + +"Dearest! may I hope for a letter?" + +"By eleven to-morrow. And I?" + +"Oh! you will have mine, Richard." + +"Tom shall wait for it. A long one, mind! Did you like my last +song?" + +She puts her hand quietly against her bosom, and he knows where it +rests. O love! O heaven! + +They are aroused by the harsh grating of the bow of the boat against +the shingle. He jumps out, and lifts her ashore. + +"See!" she says, as the blush of his embrace subsides--"See!" and +prettily she mimics awe and feels it a little, "the cypress does +point towards us. O Richard! it does!" + +And he, looking at her rather than at the cypress, delighting in her +arch grave ways-- + +"Why, there's hardly any shadow at all, Lucy. She mustn't dream, my +darling! or dream only of me." + +"Dearest! but I do." + +"To-morrow, Lucy! The letter in the morning, and you at night. O +happy to-morrow!" + +"You will be sure to be there, Richard?" + +"If I am not dead, Lucy." + +"O Richard! pray, pray do not speak of that. I shall not survive +you." + +"Let us pray, Lucy, to die together, when we are to die. Death or +life, with you! Who is it yonder? I see some one--is it Tom? It's +Adrian!" + +"Is it Mr. Harley?" The fair girl shivered. + +"How dares he come here!" cried Richard. + +The figure of Adrian, instead of advancing, discreetly circled the +lake. They were stealing away when he called. His call was repeated. +Lucy entreated Richard to go to him; but the young man preferred to +summon his attendant, Tom, from within hail, and send him to know +what was wanted. + +"Will he have seen me? Will he have known me?" whispered Lucy, +tremulously. + +"And if he does, love?" said Richard. + +"Oh! if he does, dearest--I don't know, but I feel such a +presentiment. You have not spoken of him to-night, Richard. Is he +good?" + +"Good?" Richard clutched her hand for the innocent maiden phrase. +"He's very fond of eating; that's all I know of Adrian." + +Her hand was at his lips when Tom returned. + +"Well, Tom?" + +"Mr. Adrian wishes particular to speak to you, sir," said Tom. + +"Do go to him, dearest! Do go!" Lucy begs him. + +"Oh, how I hate Adrian!" The young man grinds his teeth. + +"Do go!" Lucy urges him. "Tom--good Tom--will see me home. +To-morrow, dear love! To-morrow!" + +"You wish to part from me?" + +"Oh, unkind! but you must not come with me now. It may be news of +importance, dearest. Think, Richard!" + +"Tom! go back!" + +At the imperious command the well-drilled Tom strides off a dozen +paces, and sees nothing. Than the precious charge is confided to +him. A heart is cut in twain. + +Richard made his way to Adrian. "What is it you want with me, +Adrian?" + +"Are we seconds, or principals, O fiery one?" was Adrian's answer. +"I want nothing with you, except to know whether you have seen +Benson." + +"Where should I see Benson? What do I know of Benson's doings?" + +"Of course not--such a secret old fist as he is! I want some one to +tell him to order Lady Blandish's carriage to be sent round to the +park-gates. I thought he might be round your way over there--I came +upon him accidentally just now in Abbey-wood. What's the matter, +boy?" + +"You saw him _there_?" + +"Hunting Diana, I suppose. He thinks she's not so chaste as they +say," continued Adrian. "Are you going to knock down that tree?" + +Richard had turned to the cypress, and was tugging at the tough +wood. He left it and went to an ash. + +"You'll spoil that weeper," Adrian cried. "Down she comes! But +good-night, Ricky. If you see Benson mind you tell him." + +Doomed Benson following his burly shadow hove in sight on the white +road while Adrian spoke. The wise youth chuckled and strolled round +the lake, glancing over his shoulder every now and then. + +It was not long before he heard a bellow for help--the roar of a +dragon in his throes. Adrian placidly sat down on the grass, and +fixed his eyes on the water. There, as the roar was being repeated +amid horrid resounding echoes, the wise youth mused in this wise-- + +"'The Fates are Jews with us when they delay a punishment,' says THE +PILGRIM'S SCRIP, or words to that effect. The heavens evidently love +Benson, seeing that he gets his punishment on the spot. Master Ricky +is a peppery young man. He gets it from the apt Gruffudh. I rather +believe in race. What a noise that old ruffian makes! He'll require +poulticing with THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP. We shall have a message +to-morrow, and a hubbub, and perhaps all go to town, which won't +be bad for one who's been a prey to all the desires born of dulness. +Benson howls: there's life in the old dog yet! He bays the moon. +Look at her. She doesn't care. It's the same to her whether we coo +like turtle-doves or roar like twenty lions. How complacent she looks! +And yet she has just as much sympathy for Benson as for Cupid. She +would smile on if both were being birched. Was that a raven or Benson? +He howls no more. It sounds guttural: frog-like--something between +the brek-kek-kek and the hoarse raven's croak. The fellow'll be +killing him. It's time to go to the rescue. A deliverer gets more +honour by coming in at the last gasp than if he forestalled +catastrophe.--Ho, there, what's the matter?" + +So saying, the wise youth rose, and leisurely trotted to the scene +of battle, where stood St. George puffing over the prostrate Dragon. + +"Holloa, Ricky! is it you?" said Adrian. "What's this? Whom have we +here?--Benson, as I live!" + +"Make this beast get up," Richard returned, breathing hard, and +shaking his great ash-branch. + +"He seems incapable, my dear boy. What have you been up +to?--Benson! Benson!--I say, Ricky, this looks bad." + +"He's shamming!" Richard clamoured like a savage. "Spy upon me, will +he? I tell you, he's shamming. He hasn't had half enough. Nothing's +too bad for a spy. Let him get up!" + +"Insatiated youth! do throw away that enormous weapon." + +"He has written to my father," Richard shouted. "The miserable spy! +Let him get up!" + +"Ooogh! I won't!" huskily groaned Benson. "Mr. Hadrian, you're a +witness he's--my back!"---- Cavernous noises took up the tale of his +maltreatment. + +"I daresay you love your back better than any part of your body +now," Adrian muttered. "Come, Benson! be a man. Mr. Richard has +thrown away the stick. Come, and get off home, and let's see the +extent of the damage." + +"Ooogh! he's a devil! Mr. Hadrian, sir, he's a devil!" groaned +Benson, turning half over in the road to ease his aches. + +Adrian caught hold of Benson's collar and lifted him to a sitting +posture. He then had a glimpse of what his hopeful pupil's hand +could do in wrath. The wretched butler's coat was slit and welted; +his hat knocked in; his flabby spirit so broken that he started and +trembled if his pitiless executioner stirred a foot. Richard stood +over him, grasping his great stick; no dawn of mercy for Benson in +any corner of his features. + +Benson screwed his neck round to look up at him, and immediately +gasped, "I won't get up! I won't! He's ready to murder me +again!--Mr. Hadrian! if you stand by and see it, you're liable to +the law, sir--I won't get up while he's near." No persuasion could +induce Benson to try his legs while his executioner stood by. + +Adrian took Richard aside: "You've almost killed the poor devil, +Ricky. You must be satisfied with that. Look at his face." + +"The coward bobbed while I struck," said Richard. "I marked his +back. He ducked. I told him he was getting it worse." + +At so civilized piece of savagery, Adrian opened his mouth wide. + +"Did you really? I admire that. You told him he was getting it +worse?" + +Adrian opened his mouth again to shake another roll of laughter out. + +"Come," he said, "Excalibur has done his work. Pitch him into the +lake. And see--here comes the Blandish. You can't be at it again +before a woman. Go and meet her, and tell her the noise was an ox +being slaughtered. Or say Argus." + +With a whirr that made all Benson's bruises moan and quiver, the +great ash-branch shot aloft, and Richard swung off to intercept Lady +Blandish. + +Adrian got Benson on his feet. The heavy butler was disposed to +summon all the commiseration he could feel for his bruised flesh. +Every half-step he attempted was like a dislocation. His groans and +grunts were frightful. + +"How much did that hat cost, Benson?" said Adrian, as he put it on +his head. + +"A five-and-twenty shilling beaver, Mr. Hadrian!" Benson caressed +its injuries. + +"The cheapest policy of insurance I remember to have heard of!" said +Adrian. + +Benson staggered, moaning at intervals to his cruel comforter-- + +"He's a devil, Mr. Hadrian! He's a devil, sir, I do believe, sir. +Ooogh! he's a devil!--I can't move, Mr. Hadrian. I must be fetched. +And Dr. Clifford must be sent for, sir. I shall never be fit for +work again. I haven't a sound bone in my body, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You see, Benson, this comes of your declaring war upon Venus. I +hope the maids will nurse you properly. Let me see: you are friends +with the housekeeper, aren't you? All depends upon that." + +"I'm only a faithful servant, Mr. Hadrian," the miserable butler +snarled. + +"Then you've got no friend but your bed. Get to it as quick as +possible, Benson." + +"I can't move." Benson made a resolute halt. "I must be fetched," he +whinnied. "It's a shame to ask me to move, Mr. Hadrian." + +"You will admit that you are heavy, Benson," said Adrian, "so I +can't carry you. However, I see Mr. Richard is very kindly returning +to help me." + +At these words heavy Benson instantly found his legs, and shambled +on. + +Lady Blandish met Richard in dismay. + +"I have been horribly frightened," she said. "Tell me, what was the +meaning of those cries I heard?" + +"Only some one doing justice on a spy," said Richard, and the lady +smiled, and looked on him fondly, and put her hand through his hair. + +"Was that all? I should have done it myself if I had been a man. +Kiss me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +RICHARD IS SUMMONED TO TOWN TO HEAR A SERMON + + +By twelve o'clock at noon next day the inhabitants of Raynham Abbey +knew that Berry, the baronet's man, had arrived post-haste from +town, with orders to conduct Mr. Richard thither, and that Mr. +Richard had refused to go, had sworn he would not, defied his +father, and despatched Berry to the Shades. Berry was all that +Benson was not. Whereas Benson hated woman, Berry admired her +warmly. Second to his own stately person, woman occupied his +reflections, and commanded his homage. Berry was of majestic port, +and used dictionary words. Among the maids of Raynham his conscious +calves produced all the discord and the frenzy those adornments seem +destined to create in tender bosoms. He had, moreover, the +reputation of having suffered for the sex; which assisted his object +in inducing the sex to suffer for him. What with his calves, and his +dictionary words, and the attractive halo of the mysterious +vindictiveness of Venus surrounding him, this Adonis of the lower +household was a mighty man below, and he moved as one. + +On hearing the tumult that followed Berry's arrival, Adrian sent for +him, and was informed of the nature of his mission, and its result. + +"You should come to me first," said Adrian. "I should have imagined +you were shrewd enough for that, Berry?" + +"Pardon me, Mr. Adrian," Berry doubled his elbow to explain. "Pardon +me, sir. Acting recipient of special injunctions I was not a free +agent." + +"Go to Mr. Richard again, Berry. There will be a little confusion if +he holds back. Perhaps you had better throw out a hint or so of +apoplexy. A slight hint will do. And here--Berry! when you return to +town, you had better not mention anything--to quote Johnson--of +Benson's spiflication." + +"Certainly not, sir." + +The wise youth's hint had the desired effect on Richard. + +He dashed off a hasty letter by Tom to Belthorpe, and, mounting his +horse, galloped to the Bellingham station. + +Sir Austin was sitting down to a quiet early dinner at his hotel, +when the Hope of Raynham burst into his room. + +The baronet was not angry with his son. On the contrary, for he was +singularly just and self-accusing while pride was not up in arms, he +had been thinking all day after the receipt of Benson's letter that +he was deficient in cordiality, and did not, by reason of his +excessive anxiety, make himself sufficiently his son's companion: +was not enough, as he strove to be, mother and father to him; +preceptor and friend; previsor and associate. He had not to ask his +conscience where he had lately been to blame towards the System. He +had slunk away from Raynham in the very crisis of the Magnetic Age, +and this young woman of the parish (as Benson had termed sweet Lucy +in his letter) was the consequence. + +Yes! pride and sensitiveness were his chief foes, and he would +trample on them. To begin, he embraced his son: hard upon an +Englishman at any time--doubly so to one so shamefaced at emotion in +cool blood, as it were. It gave him a strange pleasure, +nevertheless. And the youth seemed to answer to it; he was excited. +Was his love, then, beginning to correspond with his father's as in +those intimate days before the Blossoming Season? + +But when Richard, inarticulate at first in his haste, cried out, "My +dear, dear father! You are safe! I feared----You are better, sir? +Thank God!" Sir Austin stood away from him. + +"Safe?" he said. "What has alarmed you?" + +Instead of replying, Richard dropped into a chair, and seized his +hand and kissed it. + +Sir Austin took a seat, and waited for his son to explain. + +"Those doctors are such fools!" Richard broke out. "I was sure they +were wrong. They don't know headache from apoplexy. It's worth the +ride, sir, to see you. You left Raynham so suddenly.--But you are +well! It was not an attack of real apoplexy?" + +His father's brows contorted, and he said, No, it was not. Richard +pursued: + +"If you were ill, I couldn't come too soon, though, if coroners' +inquests sat on horses, those doctors would be found guilty of +mare-slaughter. Cassandra'll be knocked up. I was too early for the +train at Bellingham, and I wouldn't wait. She did the distance in +four hours and three-quarters. Pretty good, sir, wasn't it?" + +"It has given you appetite for dinner, I hope," said the baronet, +not so well pleased to find that it was not simple obedience that +had brought the youth to him in such haste. + +"I'm ready," replied Richard. "I shall be in time to return by the +last train to-night. I will leave Cassandra in your charge for a +rest." + +His father quietly helped him to soup, which he commenced gobbling +with an eagerness that might pass for appetite. + +"All well at Raynham?" said the baronet. + +"Quite, sir." + +"Nothing new?" + +"Nothing, sir." + +"The same as when I left?" + +"No change whatever!" + +"I shall be glad to get back to the old place," said the baronet. +"My stay in town has certainly been profitable. I have made some +pleasant acquaintances who may probably favour us with a visit there +in the late autumn--people you may be pleased to know. They are very +anxious to see Raynham." + +"I love the old place," cried Richard. "I never wish to leave it." + +"Why, boy, before I left you were constantly begging to see town." + +"Was I, sir? How odd! Well! I don't want to remain here. I've seen +enough of it." + +"How did you find your way to me?" + +Richard laughed, and related his bewilderment at the miles of brick, +and the noise, and the troops of people, concluding, "There's no +place like home!" + +The baronet watched his symptomatic brilliant eyes, and favoured him +with a double-dealing sentence-- + +"To anchor the heart by any object ere we have half traversed the +world, is youth's foolishness, my son. Reverence time! A better +maxim that than your Horatian." + +"He knows all!" thought Richard, and instantly drew away leagues +from his father, and threw up fortifications round his love and +himself. + +Dinner over, Richard looked hurriedly at his watch, and said, with +much briskness, "I shall just be in time, sir, if we walk. Will you +come with me to the station?" + +The baronet did not answer. + +Richard was going to repeat the question, but found his father's +eyes fixed on him so meaningly that he wavered, and played with his +empty glass. + +"I think we will have a little more claret," said the baronet. + +Claret was brought, and they were left alone. + +The baronet then drew within arm's-reach of his son, and began: + +"I am not aware what you may have thought of me, Richard, during the +years we have lived together; and indeed I have never been in a +hurry to be known to you; and, if I had died before my work was +done, I should not have complained at losing half my reward, in +hearing you thank me. Perhaps, as it is, I never may. Everything, +save selfishness, has its recompense. I shall be content if you +prosper." + +He fetched a breath and continued: "You had in your infancy a great +loss." Father and son coloured simultaneously. "To make that good to +you I chose to isolate myself from the world, and devote myself +entirely to your welfare; and I think it is not vanity that tells me +now that the son I have reared is one of the most hopeful of God's +creatures. But for that very reason you are open to be tempted the +most, and to sink the deepest. It was the first of the angels who +made the road to hell." + +He paused again. Richard fingered at his watch. + +"In our House, my son, there is peculiar blood. We go to wreck very +easily. It sounds like superstition; I cannot but think we are tried +as most men are not. I see it in us all. And you, my son, are +compounded of two races. Your passions are violent. You have had a +taste of revenge. You have seen, in a small way, that the pound of +flesh draws rivers of blood. But there is now in you another power. +You are mounting to the table-land of life, where mimic battles are +changed to real ones. And you come upon it laden equally with force +to create and to destroy." He deliberated to announce the +intelligence, with deep meaning: "There are women in the world, my +son!" + +The young man's heart galloped back to Raynham. + +"It is when you encounter them that you are thoroughly on trial. It +is when you know them that life is either a mockery to you, or, as +some find it, a gift of blessedness. They are our ordeal. Love of +any human object is the soul's ordeal; and they are ours, loving +them, or not." + +The young man heard the whistle of the train. He saw the +moon-lighted wood, and the vision of his beloved. He could barely +hold himself down and listen. + +"I believe," the baronet spoke with little of the cheerfulness of +belief, "good women exist." + +Oh, if he knew Lucy! + +"But," and he gazed on Richard intently, "it is given to very few to +meet them on the threshold--I may say, to none. We find them after +hard buffeting, and usually, when we find the one fitted for us, our +madness has misshaped our destiny, our lot is cast. For women are +not the end, but the means, of life. In youth we think them the +former, and thousands, who have not even the excuse of youth, select +a mate--or worse--with that sole view. I believe women punish us for +so perverting their uses. They punish Society." + +The baronet put his hand to his brow as his mind travelled into +consequences. + +"Our most diligent pupil learns not so much as an earnest teacher," +says The Pilgrim's Scrip; and Sir Austin, in schooling himself to +speak with moderation of women, was beginning to get a glimpse of +their side of the case. + +Cold Blood now touched on love to Hot Blood. + +Cold Blood said, "It is a passion coming in the order of nature, the +ripe fruit of our animal being." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is a divinity! All that is worth living for in +the world." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a fever which tests our strength, and too +often leads to perdition." + +Hot Blood felt: "Lead whither it will, I follow it." + +Cold Blood said: "It is a name men and women are much in the habit +of employing to sanctify their appetites." + +Hot Blood felt: "It is worship; religion; life!" + +And so the two parallel lines ran on. + +The baronet became more personal: + +"You know my love for you, my son. The extent of it you cannot know; +but you must know that it is something very deep, and--I do not wish +to speak of it--but a father must sometimes petition for gratitude, +since the only true expression of it is his son's moral good. If you +care for my love, or love me in return, aid me with all your +energies to keep you what I have made you, and guard you from the +snares besetting you. It was in my hands once. It is ceasing to be +so. Remember, my son, what my love is. It is different, I fear, with +most fathers: but I am bound up in your welfare: what you do affects +me vitally. You will take no step that is not intimate with my +happiness, or my misery. And I have had great disappointments, my +son." + +So far it was well. Richard loved his father, and even in his +frenzied state he could not without emotion hear him thus speak. + +Unhappily, the baronet, who by some fatality never could see when he +was winning the battle, thought proper in his wisdom to water the +dryness of his sermon with a little jocoseness, on the subject of +young men fancying themselves in love, and, when they were raw and +green, absolutely wanting to be--that most awful thing, which, the +wisest and strongest of men undertake in hesitation and after +self-mortification and penance--married! He sketched the Foolish +Young Fellow--the object of general ridicule and covert contempt. He +sketched the Woman--the strange thing made in our image, and with +all our faculties--passing to the rule of one who in taking her +proved that he could not rule himself, and had no knowledge of her +save as a choice morsel which he would burn the whole world, and +himself in the bargain, to possess. He harped upon the Foolish Young +Fellow, till the foolish young fellow felt his skin tingle and was +half-suffocated with shame and rage. + +After this, the baronet might be as wise as he pleased: he had quite +undone his work. He might analyze Love and anatomize Woman. He might +accord to her her due position, and paint her fair: he might be +shrewd, jocose, gentle, pathetic, wonderfully wise: he spoke to deaf +ears. + +Closing his sermon with the question, softly uttered: "Have you +anything to tell me, Richard?" and hoping for a confession, and a +thorough re-establishment of confidence, the callous answer struck +him cold: "I have not." + +The baronet relapsed in his chair, and made diagrams of his fingers. + +Richard turned his back on further dialogue by going to the window. +In the section of sky over the street twinkled two or three stars; +shining faintly, feeling the moon. The moon was rising: the woods +were lifting up to her: his star of the woods would be there. A bed +of moss set about flowers in a basket under him breathed to his +nostril of the woodland keenly, and filled him with delirious +longing. + +A succession of hard sighs brought his father's hand on his +shoulder. + +"You have nothing you could say to me, my son? Tell me, Richard! +Remember, there is no home for the soul where dwells a shadow of +untruth!" + +"Nothing at all, sir," the young man replied, meeting him with the +full orbs of his eyes. + +The baronet withdrew his hand, and paced the room. + +At last it grew impossible for Richard to control his impatience, +and he said: "Do you intend me to stay here, sir? Am I not to return +to Raynham at all to-night?" + +His father was again falsely jocular: + +"What? and catch the train after giving it ten minutes' start?" + +"Cassandra will take me," said the young man earnestly. "I needn't +ride her hard, sir. Or perhaps you would lend me your Winkelried? I +should be down with him in little better than three hours." + +"Even then, you know, the park-gates would be locked." + +"Well, I could stable him in the village. Dowling knows the horse, +and would treat him properly. May I have him, sir?" + +The cloud cleared off Richard's face as he asked. At least, if he +missed his love that night he would be near her, breathing the same +air, marking what star was above her bedchamber, hearing the hushed +night-talk of the trees about her dwelling: looking on the distances +that were like hope half-fulfilled and a bodily presence bright as +Hesper, since he knew her. There were two swallows under the eaves +shadowing Lucy's chamber-windows: two swallows, mates in one nest, +blissful birds, who twittered and cheep-cheeped to the sole-lying +beauty in her bed. Around these birds the lover's heart revolved, he +knew not why. He associated them with all his close-veiled dreams of +happiness. Seldom a morning passed when he did not watch them leave +the nest on their breakfast-flight, busy in the happy stillness of +dawn. It seemed to him now that if he could be at Raynham to see +them in to-morrow's dawn he would be compensated for his +incalculable loss of to-night: he would forgive and love his father, +London, the life, the world. Just to see those purple backs and +white breasts flash out into the quiet morning air! He wanted no +more. + +The baronet's trifling had placed this enormous boon within the +young man's visionary grasp. + +He still went on trying the boy's temper. + +"You know there would be nobody ready for you at Raynham. It is +unfair to disturb the maids." + +Richard overrode every objection. + +"Well, then, my son," said the baronet, preserving his half-jocular +air, "I must tell you that it is my wish to have you in town." + +"Then you have not been ill at all, sir!" cried Richard, as in his +despair he seized the whole plot. + +"I have been as well as you could have desired me to be," said his +father. + +"Why did they lie to me?" the young man wrathfully exclaimed. + +"I think, Richard, you can best answer that," rejoined Sir Austin, +kindly severe. + +Dread of being signalized as the Foolish Young Fellow prevented +Richard from expostulating further. Sir Austin saw him grinding his +passion into powder for future explosion, and thought it best to +leave him for awhile. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +INDICATES THE APPROACHES OF FEVER + + +For three weeks Richard had to remain in town and endure the +teachings of the System in a new atmosphere. He had to sit and +listen to men of science who came to renew their intimacy with his +father, and whom of all men his father wished him to respect and +study; practically scientific men being, in the baronet's +estimation, the only minds thoroughly mated and enviable. He had to +endure an introduction to the Grandisons, and meet the eyes of his +kind, haunted as he was by the Foolish Young Fellow. The idea that +he might by any chance be identified with him held the poor youth in +silent subjection. And it was horrible. For it was a continued +outrage on the fair image he had in his heart. The notion of the +world laughing at him because he loved sweet Lucy stung him to +momentary frenzies, and developed premature misanthropy in his +spirit. Also the System desired to show him whither young women of +the parish lead us, and he was dragged about at night-time to see +the sons and daughters of darkness, after the fashion prescribed to +Mr. Thompson; how they danced and ogled down the high road to +perdition. But from this sight possibly the teacher learnt more than +his pupil, since we find him seriously asking his meditative hours, +in the Note-book: "Wherefore Wild Oats are only of one gender?" a +question certainly not suggested to him at Raynham; and +again--"Whether men might not be attaching too rigid an +importance?" ... to a subject with a dotted tail apparently, for he +gives it no other in the Note-book. But, as I apprehend, he had come +to plead in behalf of women here, and had deduced something from +positive observation. To Richard the scenes he witnessed were +strange wild pictures, likely if anything to have increased his +misanthropy, but for his love. + +Certain sweet little notes from Lucy sustained the lover during the +first two weeks of exile. They ceased; and now Richard fell into +such despondency that his father in alarm had to take measures to +hasten their return to Raynham. At the close of the third week Berry +laid a pair of letters, bearing the Raynham post-mark, on the +breakfast-table, and, after reading one attentively, the baronet +asked his son if he was inclined to quit the metropolis. + +"For Raynham, sir?" cried Richard, and relapsed, saying, "As you +will!" aware that he had given a glimpse of the Foolish Young +Fellow. + +Berry accordingly received orders to make arrangements for their +instant return to Raynham. + +The letter Sir Austin lifted his head from to bespeak his son's +wishes was a composition of the wise youth Adrian's, and ran thus: + + "Benson is doggedly recovering. He requires great indemnities. + Happy when a faithful fool is the main sufferer in a household! + I quite agree with you that our faithful fool is the best + servant of great schemes. Benson is now a piece of history. I + tell him that this is indemnity enough, and that the sweet Muse + usually insists upon gentlemen being half-flayed before she + will condescend to notice them; but Benson, I regret to say, + rejects the comfort so fine a reflection should offer, and had + rather keep his skin and live opaque. Heroism seems partly a + matter of training. Faithful folly is Benson's nature: the rest + has been thrust upon him. + + "The young person has resigned the neighbourhood. I had an + interview with the fair Papist myself, and also with the man + Blaize. They were both sensible, though one swore and the other + sighed. She is pretty. I hope she does not paint. I can affirm + that her legs are strong, for she walks to Bellingham twice a + week to take her Scarlet bath, when, having confessed and been + made clean by the Romish unction, she walks back the brisker, + of which my Protestant muscular system is yet aware. It was on + the road to Bellingham I engaged her. She is well in the matter + of hair. Madam Godiva might challenge her, it would be a fair + match. Has it never struck you that Woman is nearer the + _vegetable_ than Man?--Mr. Blaize intends her for his son--a + junction that every lover of fairy mythology must desire to see + consummated. Young Tom is heir to all the _agremens_ of the + Beast. The maids of Lobourne say (I hear) that he is a very + Proculus among them. Possibly the envious men say it for the + maids. Beauty does not speak bad grammar--and altogether she is + better out of the way." + +The other letter was from Lady Blandish, a lady's letter, and said: + + "I have fulfilled your commission to the best of my ability, + and heartily sad it has made me. She is indeed very much + above her station--pity that it is so! She is almost + beautiful--_quite_ beautiful at times, and not in _any way_ + what you have been led to fancy. The poor child had no story to + tell. I have again seen her, and talked with her for an hour as + kindly as I could. I could gather nothing more than we know. It + is just a woman's history as it invariably commences. Richard + is the god of her idolatry. She will renounce him, and + sacrifice herself for his sake. Are we so bad? She asked me + what she was to do. She would do whatever was imposed upon + her--all but pretend to love another, and that she never would, + and, I believe, _never will_. You know I am sentimental, and I + confess we dropped a _few tears_ together. Her uncle has sent + her for the Winter to the institution where it appears she was + educated, and where they are very fond of her and want to keep + her, which it would be a good thing if they were to do. The man + is a good sort of man. She was entrusted to him by her father, + and he never interferes with her religion, and is very + scrupulous about all that pertains to it, though, as he says, + he is a Christian himself. In the Spring (but the poor child + does not know this) she is to come back, and be married to his + lout of a son. I am _determined_ to prevent that. May I not + reckon on your promise to aid me? When you see her, I am sure + you will. It would be sacrilege to look on and permit such a + thing. You know, they are _cousins_. She asked me, where in the + world there was one like Richard? What could I answer? They + were your own words, and spoken with a depth of conviction! I + hope he is really calm. I shudder to think of him when he + comes, and discovers what I have been doing. I hope I have been + really doing right! A good deed, you say, never dies; but we + cannot always know--I must rely on you. Yes, it is, I should + think, easy to suffer martyrdom when one is sure of one's + cause! but then one _must_ be sure of it. I have done nothing + lately but to repeat to myself that saying of yours, No. 54, C. + 7, P.S.; and it has consoled me, I cannot say why, except that + all wisdom consoles, whether it applies directly or not: + + "'_For this reason so many fall from God, who have attained to + Him; that they cling to Him with their Weakness, not with their + Strength._' + + "I like to know of what you are thinking when you composed this + or that saying--what _suggested_ it. May not one be admitted to + inspect the machinery of wisdom? I feel curious to know how + thoughts--_real_ thoughts--are born. Not that I hope to win the + secret. Here is the beginning of one (but we poor women can + never put together even two of the three ideas which you say go + to form a thought): 'When a wise man makes a false step, will + he not go farther than a fool?' It has just flitted through me. + + "I cannot get on with Gibbon, so wait your return to recommence + the readings. I dislike the _sneering essence_ of his writings. + I keep referring to his face, until the dislike seems to become + personal. How different it is with Wordsworth! And yet I cannot + escape from the thought that he is always solemnly thinking of + himself (but I _do_ reverence him). But this is curious; Byron + was a greater egoist, and yet I do not feel the same with him. + He reminds me of a beast of the desert, savage and beautiful; + and the former is what one would imagine a superior donkey + reclaimed from the heathen to be--a _very_ superior donkey, I + mean, with great power of speech and great natural complacency, + and whose stubbornness you must admire as part of his mission. + The worst is that no one will imagine anything sublime in a + superior donkey, so my simile is unfair and false. Is it not + strange? I love Wordsworth best, and yet Byron has the greater + power over me. How is that?" + +("Because," Sir Austin wrote beside the query in pencil, "women are +cowards, and succumb to Irony and Passion, rather than yield their +hearts to Excellence and Nature's Inspiration.") + +The letter pursued: + + "I have finished Boiardo and have taken up Berni. The latter + offends me. I suppose we women do not really care for humour. + You are right in saying we have none ourselves, and 'cackle' + instead of laugh. It is true (of me, at least) that 'Falstaff + is only to us an incorrigible fat man.' I want to know what he + _illustrates_. And Don Quixote--what end can be served in + making a noble mind ridiculous?--I hear you say--practical! So + it is. We are very narrow, I know. But we like wit--practical + again! Or in your words (when I really _think_ they generally + come to my aid--perhaps it is that it is often all _your + thought_); we 'prefer the rapier thrust, to the broad embrace, + of Intelligence.'" + +He trifled with the letter for some time, re-reading chosen passages +as he walked about the room, and considering he scarce knew what. +There are ideas language is too gross for, and shape too arbitrary, +which come to us and have a definite influence upon us, and yet we +cannot fasten on the filmy things and make them visible and distinct +to ourselves, much less to others. Why did he twice throw a look +into the glass in the act of passing it? He stood for a moment with +head erect facing it. His eyes for the nonce seemed little to peruse +his outer features; the grey gathered brows, and the wrinkles much +action of them had traced over the circles half up his high straight +forehead; the iron-grey hair that rose over his forehead and fell +away in the fashion of Richard's plume. His general appearance +showed the tints of years; but none of their weight, and nothing of +the dignity of his youth, was gone. It was so far satisfactory, but +his eyes were wide, as one who looks at his essential self through +the mask we wear. Perhaps he was speculating as he looked on the +sort of aspect he presented to the lady's discriminative regard. Of +her feelings he had not a suspicion. But he knew with what +extraordinary lucidity women can, when it pleases them, and when +their feelings are not quite boiling under the noonday sun, seize +all the sides of a character, and put their fingers on its weak +point. He was cognizant of the total absence of the humorous in +himself (the want that most shut him out from his fellows), and +perhaps the clear-thoughted, intensely self-examining gentleman +filmily conceived, Me also, in common with the poet, she gazes on as +one of the superior--grey beasts! + +He may have so conceived the case; he was capable of that +great-mindedness, and could snatch at times very luminous glances at +the broad reflector which the world of fact lying outside our narrow +compass holds up for us to see ourselves in when we will. Unhappily, +the faculty of laughter, which is due to this gift, was denied him; +and having seen, he, like the companion of friend Balaam, could go +no farther. For a good wind of laughter had relieved him of much of +the blight of self-deception, and oddness, and extravagance; had +given a healthier view of our atmosphere of life; but he had it not. + +Journeying back to Bellingham in the train, with the heated brain +and brilliant eye of his son beside him, Sir Austin tried hard to +feel infallible, as a man with a System should feel; and because he +could not do so, after much mental conflict, he descended to +entertain a personal antagonism to the young woman who had stepped +in between his experiment and success. He did not think kindly of +her. Lady Blandish's encomiums of her behaviour and her beauty +annoyed him. Forgetful that he had in a measure forfeited his rights +to it, he took the common ground of fathers, and demanded, "Why he +was not justified in doing all that lay in his power to prevent his +son from casting himself away upon the first creature with a pretty +face he encountered?" Deliberating thus, he lost the tenderness he +should have had for his experiment--the living, burning youth at his +elbow, and his excessive love for him took a rigorous tone. It +appeared to him politic, reasonable, and just, that the uncle of +this young woman, who had so long nursed the prudent scheme of +marrying her to his son, should not only not be thwarted in his +object but encouraged and even assisted. At least, not thwarted. Sir +Austin had no glass before him while these ideas hardened in his +mind, and he had rather forgotten the letter of Lady Blandish. + +Father and son were alone in the railway carriage. Both were too +preoccupied to speak. As they neared Bellingham, the dark was +filling the hollows of the country. Over the pine-hills beyond the +station a last rosy streak lingered across a green sky. Richard eyed +it while they flew along. It caught him forward: it seemed full of +the spirit of his love, and brought tears of mournful longing to his +eyelids. The sad beauty of that one spot in the heavens seemed to +call out to his soul to swear to his Lucy's truth to him: was like +the sorrowful visage of his fleur-de-luce, as he called her, +appealing to him for faith. That tremulous tender way she had of +half-closing and catching light on the nether-lids, when sometimes +she looked up in her lover's face--a look so mystic-sweet that it +had grown to be the fountain of his dreams: he saw it yonder, and +his blood thrilled. + +Know you those wand-like touches of I know not what, before which +our grosser being melts, and we, much as we hope to be in the +Awaking, stand etherealized, trembling with new joy? They come but +rarely; rarely even in love, when we fondly think them revelations. +Mere sensations they are, doubtless: and we rank for them no higher +in the spiritual scale than so many translucent glorious _polypi_ +that quiver on the shores, the hues of heaven running through them. +Yet in the harvest of our days it is something for the animal to +have had such mere fleshly polypian experiences to look back upon, +and they give him an horizon--pale seas of luring splendour. One who +has had them (when they do not bound him) may find the Isles of +Bliss sooner than another. Sensual faith in the upper glories is +something. "Let us remember," says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "that +Nature, though heathenish, reaches at her best to the footstool of +the Highest. She is not all dust, but a living portion of the +spheres. In aspiration it is our error to despise her, forgetting +that through Nature only can we _ascend_. Cherished, trained, and +purified, she is then partly worthy the divine mate who is to make +her wholly so. St. Simeon saw the Hog in Nature, and took Nature for +the Hog." + +It was one of these strange bodily exaltations which thrilled the +young man, he knew not how it was, for sadness and his forebodings +vanished. The soft wand touched him. At that moment, had Sir Austin +spoken openly, Richard might have fallen upon his heart. He could +not. He chose to feel injured on the common ground of fathers, and +to pursue his System by plotting. Lady Blandish had revived his +jealousy of the creature who menaced it, and jealousy of a System is +unreflecting and vindictive as jealousy of woman. + +Heath-roots and pines breathed sharp in the cool autumn evening +about the Bellingham station. Richard stood a moment as he stepped +from the train, and drew the country air into his lungs with large +heaves of the chest. Leaving his father to the felicitations of the +station-master, he went into the Lobourne road to look for his +faithful Tom, who had received private orders through Berry to be in +attendance with his young master's mare, Cassandra, and was lurking +in a plantation of firs unenclosed on the borders of the road, where +Richard, knowing his retainer's zest for conspiracy too well to seek +him anywhere but in the part most favoured with shelter and +concealment, found him furtively whiffing tobacco. + +"What news, Tom? Is there an illness?" + +Tom sent his undress cap on one side to scratch at dilemma, an old +agricultural habit to which he was still a slave in moments of +abstract thought or sudden difficulty. + +"No, I don't want the rake, Mr. Richard," he whinnied with a false +grin, as he beheld his master's eye vacantly following the action. + +"Speak out!" he was commanded. "I haven't had a letter for a week!" + +Richard learnt the news. He took it with surprising outward calm, +only getting a little closer to Cassandra's neck, and looking very +hard at Tom without seeing a speck of him, which had the effect on +Tom of making him sincerely wish his master would punch his head at +once rather than fix him in that owl-like way. + +"Go on!" said Richard, huskily. "Yes? She's gone! Well?" + +Tom was brought to understand he must make the most of trifles, and +recited how he had heard from a female domestic at Belthorpe of the +name of Davenport, formerly known to him, that the young lady never +slept a wink from the hour she knew she was going, but sat up in her +bed till morning crying most pitifully, though she never complained. +Hereat the tears unconsciously streamed down Richard's cheeks. Tom +said he had tried to see her, but Mr. Adrian kept him at work, +ciphering at a terrible sum--that and nothing else all day! saying, +it was to please his young master on his return. "Likewise something +in Lat'n," added Tom. "Nom'tive Mouser!--'nough to make ye mad, +sir!" he exclaimed with pathos. The wretch had been put to acquire a +Latin declension. + +Tom saw her on the morning she went away, he said: she was very +sorrowful-looking, and nodded kindly to him as she passed in the fly +along with young Tom Blaize. "She have got uncommon kind eyes, sir," +said Tom, "and cryin' don't spoil them." For which his hand was +wrenched. + +Tom had no more to tell, save that, in rounding the road, the young +lady had hung out her hand, and seemed to move it forward and back, +as much as to say, Good-bye, Tom! "And though she couldn't see me," +said Tom, "I took off my hat. I did take it so kind of her to think +of a chap like me." He was at high-pressure sentiment--what with his +education for a hero and his master's love-stricken state. + +"You saw no more of her, Tom?" + +"No, sir. That was the last!" + +"That was the last you saw of her, Tom?" + +"Well, sir, I saw nothin' more." + +"And so she went out of sight!" + +"Clean gone, that she were, sir." + +"Why did they take her away? what have they done with her? where +have they taken her to?" + +These red-hot questionings were addressed to the universal heaven +rather than to Tom. + +"Why didn't she write?" they were resumed. "Why did she leave? She's +mine. She belongs to me! Who dared take her away? Why did she leave +without writing?----Tom!" + +"Yes, sir," said the well-drilled recruit, dressing himself up to +the word of command. He expected a variation of the theme from the +change of tone with which his name had been pronounced, but it was +again, "Where have they taken her to?" and this was even more +perplexing to Tom than his hard sum in arithmetic had been. He could +only draw down the corners of his mouth hard, and glance up queerly. + +"She _had_ been crying--you saw that, Tom?" + +"No mistake about that, Mr. Richard. Cryin' all night and all day, I +sh'd say." + +"And she was crying when you saw her?" + +"She look'd as if she'd just done for a moment, sir." + +"But her face was white?" + +"White as a sheet." + +Richard paused to discover whether his instinct had caught a new +view from these facts. He was in a cage, always knocking against the +same bars, fly as he might. Her tears were the stars in his black +night. He clung to them as golden orbs. Inexplicable as they were, +they were at least pledges of love. + +The hues of sunset had left the West. No light was there but the +steadfast pale eye of twilight. Thither he was drawn. He mounted +Cassandra, saying: "Tell them something, Tom. I shan't be home to +dinner," and rode off toward the forsaken home of light over +Belthorpe, wherein he saw the wan hand of his Lucy, waving farewell, +receding as he advanced. His jewel was stolen,--he must gaze upon +the empty box. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +CRISIS IN THE APPLE-DISEASE + + +Night had come on as Richard entered the old elm-shaded, +grass-bordered lane leading down from Raynham to Belthorpe. The pale +eye of twilight was shut. The wind had tossed up the bank of Western +cloud, which was now flying broad and unlighted across the sky, +broad and balmy--the charioted South-west at full charge behind his +panting coursers. As he neared the farm his heart fluttered and +leapt up. He was sure she must be there. She must have returned. Why +should she have left for good without writing? He caught suspicion +by the throat, making it voiceless, if it lived: he silenced reason. +Her not writing was now a proof that she had returned. He listened +to nothing but his imperious passion, and murmured sweet words for +her, as if she were by: tender cherishing epithets of love in the +nest. She was there--she moved somewhere about like a silver flame +in the dear old house, doing her sweet household duties. His blood +began to sing: O happy those within, to see her, and be about her! +By some extraordinary process he contrived to cast a sort of glory +round the burly person of Farmer Blaize himself. And oh! to have +companionship with a seraph one must know a seraph's bliss, and was +not young Tom to be envied? The smell of late clematis brought on +the wind enwrapped him, and went to his brain, and threw a light +over the old red-brick house, for he remembered where it grew, and +the winter rose-tree, and the jessamine, and the passion-flower: the +garden in front with the standard roses tended by her hands; the +long wall to the left striped by the branches of the cherry, the +peep of a further green garden through the wall, and then the +orchard, and the fields beyond--the happy circle of her dwelling! it +flashed before his eyes while he looked on the darkness. And yet it +was the reverse of hope which kindled this light and inspired the +momentary calm he experienced: it was despair exaggerating delusion, +wilfully building up on a groundless basis. "For the tenacity of +true passion is terrible," says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP: "it will stand +against the hosts of heaven, God's great array of Facts, rather than +surrender its aim, and must be crushed before it will succumb--sent +to the lowest pit!" He knew she was not there; she was gone. But the +power of a will strained to madness fought at it, kept it down, +conjured forth her ghost, and would have it as he dictated. Poor +youth! the great array of facts was in due order of march. + +He had breathed her name many times, and once overloud; almost a cry +for her escaped him. He had not noticed the opening of a door and +the noise of a foot along the gravel walk. He was leaning over +Cassandra's uneasy neck watching the one window intently, when a +voice addressed him out of the darkness. + +"Be that you, young gentleman?--Mr. Fev'rel?" + +Richard's trance was broken. "Mr. Blaize!" he said, recognizing the +farmer's voice. + +"Good even'n t'you, sir," returned the farmer. "I knew the mare +though I didn't know you. Rather bluff to-night it be. Will ye step +in, Mr. Fev'rel? it's beginnin' to spit--going to be a wildish +night, I reckon." + +Richard dismounted. The farmer called one of his men to hold the +mare, and ushered the young man in. Once there, Richard's +conjurations ceased. There was a deadness about the rooms and +passages that told of her absence. The walls he touched--these were +the vacant shells of her. He had never been in the house since he +knew her, and now what strange sweetness, and what pangs! + +Young Tom Blaize was in the parlour, squared over the table in +open-mouthed examination of an ancient book of the fashions for a +summer month which had elapsed during his mother's minority. Young +Tom was respectfully studying the aspects of the radiant beauties of +the polite work. He also was a thrall of woman, newly enrolled, and +full of wonder. + +"What, Tom!" the farmer sang out as soon as he had opened the door; +"there ye be! at yer Folly agin, are ye? What good'll them fashens +do to you, I'd like t'know? Come, shut up, and go and see to Mr. +Fev'rel's mare. He's al'ays at that ther' Folly now. I say there +never were a better name for a book than that ther' Folly! Talk +about attitudes!" + +The farmer laughed his fat sides into a chair, and motioned his +visitor to do likewise. + +"It's a comfort they're most on 'em females," he pursued, sounding a +thwack on his knee as he settled himself agreeably in his seat. "It +don't matter much what they does, except pinchin' in--waspin' it--at +the waist. Give me nature, I say--woman as she's made! eh, young +gentleman?" + +"You seem very lonely here," said Richard, glancing round, and at +the ceiling. + +"Lonely?" quoth the farmer. "Well, for the matter o' that, we +be!--jest now, so't happens; I've got my pipe, and Tom've got his +Folly. He's on one side the table, and I'm on t'other. He gaapes, +and I gazes. We are a bit lonesome. But there--it's _for_ the best!" + +Richard resumed, "I hardly expected to see you to-night, Mr. +Blaize." + +"Y'acted like a man in coming, young gentleman, and I does ye honour +for it!" said Farmer Blaize with sudden energy and directness. + +The thing implied by the farmer's words caused Richard to take a +quick breath. They looked at each other, and looked away, the farmer +thrumming on the arm of his chair. + +Above the mantel-piece, surrounded by tarnished indifferent +miniatures of high-collared, well-to-do yeomen of the anterior +generation, trying their best not to grin, and high-waisted old +ladies smiling an encouraging smile through plentiful cap-puckers, +there hung a passably executed half-figure of a naval officer in +uniform, grasping a telescope under his left arm, who stood forth +clearly as not of their kith and kin. His eyes were blue, his hair +light, his bearing that of a man who knows how to carry his head and +shoulders. The artist, while giving him an epaulette to indicate his +rank, had also recorded the juvenility which a lieutenant in the +naval service can retain after arriving at that position, by +painting him with smooth cheeks and fresh ruddy lips. To this +portrait Richard's eyes were directed. Farmer Blaize observed it, +and said-- + +"Her father, sir!" + +Richard moderated his voice to praise the likeness. + +"Yes," said the farmer, "pretty well. Next best to havin' _her_, +though it's a long way off that!" + +"An old family, Mr. Blaize--is it not?" Richard asked in as careless +a tone as he could assume. + +"Gentlefolks--what's left of 'em," replied the farmer with an +equally affected indifference. + +"And that's her father?" said Richard, growing bolder to speak of +her. + +"That's her father, young gentleman!" + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard turned to face him, and burst out, "where is +she?" + +"Gone, sir! packed off!--Can't have her here now." The farmer +thrummed a step brisker, and eyed the young man's wild face +resolutely. + +"Mr. Blaize," Richard leaned forward to get closer to him. He was +stunned, and hardly aware of what he was saying or doing: "Where has +she gone? Why did she leave?" + +"You needn't to ask, sir--ye know," said the farmer, with a side +shot of his head. + +"But _she_ did not--it was not her wish to go?" + +"No! I think she likes the place. Mayhap she likes't too well!" + +"Why did you send her away to make her unhappy, Mr. Blaize?" + +The farmer bluntly denied it was he was the party who made her +unhappy. "Nobody can't accuse _me_. Tell ye what, sir. I wunt have +the busybodies set to work about her, and there's all the matter. So +let you and I come to an understandin'." + +A blind inclination to take offence made Richard sit upright. He +forgot it the next minute, and said humbly: "Am I the cause of her +going?" + +"Well!" returned the farmer, "to speak straight--ye be!" + +"What can I do, Mr. Blaize, that she may come back again?" the young +hypocrite asked. + +"Now," said the farmer, "you're coming to business. Glad to hear ye +talk in that sensible way, Mr. Fev'rel. You may guess I wants her +bad enough. The house ain't itself now she's away, and I ain't +myself. Well, sir! This ye can do. If you gives me your promise not +to meddle with her at all--I can't mak' out how you come to be +acquainted; not to try to get her to be meetin' you--and if you'd a +seen her when she left, you would--when did ye meet?--last grass, +wasn't it?--your word as a gentleman not to be writing letters, and +spyin' after her--I'll have her back at once. Back she shall come!" + +"Give her up!" cried Richard. + +"Ay, that's it!" said the farmer. "Give her up." + +The young man checked the annihilation of time that was on his +mouth. + +"You sent her away to protect her from me, then?" he said savagely. + +"That's not quite it, but that'll do," rejoined the farmer. + +"Do you think I shall harm her, sir?" + +"People seem to think she'll harm you, young gentleman," the farmer +said with some irony. + +"Harm _me_--she? What people?" + +"People pretty intimate with you, sir." + +"What people? Who spoke of us?" Richard began to scent a plot, and +would not be balked. + +"Well, sir, look here," said the farmer. "It ain't no secret, and if +it be, I don't see why I'm to keep it. It appears your education's +peculiar!" The farmer drawled out the word as if he were describing +the figure of a snake. "You ain't to be as other young gentlemen. +All the better! You're a fine bold young gentleman, and your +father's a right to be proud of ye. Well, sir--I'm sure I thank him +for't--he comes to hear of you and Luce, and of course he don't want +nothin' o' that--more do I. I meets him there! What's more I won't +have nothin' of it. She be my gal. She were left to my protection. +And she's a lady, sir. Let me tell ye, ye won't find many on 'em so +well looked to as she be--my Luce! Well, Mr. Fev'rel, it's you, or +it's her--one of ye must be out o' the way. So we're told. And +Luce--I do believe she's just as anxious about yer education as yer +father--she says she'll go, and wouldn't write, and'd break it off +for the sake o' your education. And she've kep' her word, haven't +she?--She's a true'n. What she says she'll do!--True blue she be, my +Luce! So now, sir, you do the same, and I'll thank ye." + +Any one who has tossed a sheet of paper into the fire, and seen it +gradually brown with heat, and strike to flame, may conceive the +mind of the lover as he listened to this speech. + +His anger did not evaporate in words, but condensed and sank deep. +"Mr. Blaize," he said, "this is very kind of the people you allude +to, but I am of an age now to think and act for myself--I love her, +sir!" His whole countenance changed, and the muscles of his face +quivered. + +"Well!" said the farmer, appeasingly, "we all do at your +age--somebody or other. It's natural!" + +"I love her!" the young man thundered afresh, too much possessed by +his passion to have a sense of shame in the confession. "Farmer!" +his voice fell to supplication, "will you bring her back?" + +Farmer Blaize made a queer face. He asked--what for? and where was +the promise required?--But was not the lover's argument conclusive? +He said he loved her! and he could not see why her uncle should not +in consequence immediately send for her, that they might be +together. All very well, quoth the farmer, but what's to come of +it?--What was to come of it? Why, love, and more love! And a bit too +much! the farmer added grimly. + +"Then you refuse me, farmer," said Richard. "I must look to you for +keeping her away from me, not to--to--these people. You will not +have her back, though I tell you I love her better than my life?" + +Farmer Blaize now had to answer him plainly, he had a reason and an +objection of his own. And it was, that her character was at stake, +and God knew whether she herself might not be in danger. He spoke +with a kindly candour, not without dignity. He complimented Richard +personally, but young people were young people; baronets' sons were +not in the habit of marrying farmers' nieces. + +At first the son of a System did not comprehend him. When he did, he +said: "Farmer! if I give you my word of honour, as I hope for +heaven, to marry her when I am of age, will you have her back?" + +He was so fervid that, to quiet him, the farmer only shook his head +doubtfully at the bars of the grate, and let his chest fall slowly. +Richard caught what seemed to him a glimpse of encouragement in +these signs, and observed: "It's not because you object to me, Mr. +Blaize?" + +The farmer signified it was not that. + +"It's because my father is against me," Richard went on, and +undertook to show that love was so sacred a matter that no father +could entirely and for ever resist his son's inclinations. Argument +being a cool field where the farmer could meet and match him, the +young man got on the tramroad of his passion, and went ahead. He +drew pictures of Lucy, of her truth, and his own. He took leaps from +life to death, from death to life, mixing imprecations and prayers +in a torrent. Perhaps he did move the stolid old Englishman a +little, he was so vehement, and made so visible a sacrifice of his +pride. + +Farmer Blaize tried to pacify him, but it was useless. His jewel he +must have. + +The farmer stretched out his hand for the pipe that allayeth +botheration. "May smoke heer now," he said. "Not when--somebody's +present. Smoke in the kitchen then. Don't mind smell?" + +Richard nodded, and watched the operations while the farmer filled, +and lighted, and began to puff, as if his fate hung on them. + +"Who'd a' thought, when you sat over there once, of its comin' to +this?" ejaculated the farmer, drawing ease and reflection from +tobacco. "You didn't think much of her that day, young gentleman! I +introduced ye. Well! things comes about. Can't you wait till she +returns in due course, now?" + +This suggestion, the work of the pipe, did but bring on him another +torrent. + +"It's queer," said the farmer, putting the mouth of the pipe to his +wrinkled-up temples. + +Richard waited for him, and then he laid down the pipe altogether, +as no aid in perplexity, and said, after leaning his arm on the +table and staring at Richard an instant: + +"Look, young gentleman! My word's gone. I've spoke it. I've given +'em the 'surance she shan't be back till the Spring, and then I'll +have her, and then--well! I do hope, for more reasons than one, +ye'll both be wiser--I've got my own notions about her. But I an't +the man to force a gal to marry 'gainst her inclines. Depend upon it +I'm not your enemy, Mr. Fev'rel. You're jest the one to mak' a young +gal proud. So wait,--and see. That's my 'dvice. Jest tak' and wait. +I've no more to say." + +Richard's impetuosity had made him really afraid of speaking his +notions concerning the projected felicity of young Tom, if indeed +they were serious. + +The farmer repeated that he had no more to say; and Richard, with +"Wait till the Spring! Wait till the Spring!" dinning despair in his +ears, stood up to depart. Farmer Blaize shook his slack hand in a +friendly way, and called out at the door for young Tom, who, +dreading allusions to his Folly, did not appear. A maid rushed by +Richard in the passage, and slipped something into his grasp, which +fixed on it without further consciousness than that of touch. The +mare was led forth by the Bantam. A light rain was falling down +strong warm gusts, and the trees were noisy in the night. Farmer +Blaize requested Richard at the gate to give him his hand, and say +all was well. He liked the young man for his earnestness and honest +outspeaking. Richard could not say all was well, but he gave his +hand, and knitted it to the farmer's in a sharp squeeze, when he got +upon Cassandra, and rode into the tumult. + +A calm, clear dawn succeeded the roaring West, and threw its glowing +grey image on the waters of the Abbey-lake. Before sunrise Tom +Bakewell was abroad, and met the missing youth, his master, jogging +Cassandra leisurely along the Lobourne park-road, a sorry couple to +look at. Cassandra's flanks were caked with mud, her head drooped: +all that was in her had been taken out by that wild night. On what +heaths and heavy fallows had she not spent her noble strength, +recklessly fretting through the darkness! + +"Take the mare," said Richard, dismounting and patting her between +the eyes. "She's done up, poor old girl! Look to her, Tom, and then +come to me in my room." + +Tom asked no questions. + +Three days would bring the anniversary of Richard's birth, and +though Tom was close, the condition of the mare, and the young +gentleman's strange freak in riding her out all night becoming +known, prepared everybody at Raynham for the usual bad-luck +birthday, the prophets of which were full of sad gratification. Sir +Austin had an unpleasant office to require of his son; no other than +that of humbly begging Benson's pardon, and washing out the undue +blood he had spilt in taking his Pound of Flesh. Heavy Benson was +told to anticipate the demand for pardon, and practised in his mind +the most melancholy Christian deportment he could assume on the +occasion. But while his son was in this state, Sir Austin considered +that he would hardly be brought to see the virtues of the act, and +did not make the requisition of him, and heavy Benson remained drawn +up solemnly expectant at doorways, and at the foot of the staircase, +a Saurian Caryatid, wherever he could get a step in advance of the +young man, while Richard heedlessly passed him, as he passed +everybody else, his head bent to the ground, and his legs bearing +him like random instruments of whose service he was unconscious. It +was a shock to Benson's implicit belief in his patron; and he was +not consoled by the philosophic explanation, "That Good in a strong +many-compounded nature is of slower growth than any other mortal +thing, and must not be forced." Damnatory doctrines best pleased +Benson. He was ready to pardon, as a Christian should, but he did +want his enemy before him on his knees. And now, though the Saurian +Eye saw more than all the other eyes in the house, and saw that +there was matter in hand between Tom and his master to breed +exceeding discomposure to the System, Benson, as he had not received +his indemnity, and did not wish to encounter fresh perils for +nothing, held his peace. + +Sir Austin partly divined what was going on in the breast of his +son, without conceiving the depths of distrust his son cherished or +quite measuring the intensity of the passion that consumed him. He +was very kind and tender with him. Like a cunning physician who has, +nevertheless, overlooked the change in the disease super-induced by +one false dose, he meditated his prescriptions carefully and +confidently, sure that he knew the case, and was a match for it. He +decreed that Richard's erratic behaviour should pass unnoticed. Two +days before the birthday, he asked him whether he would object to +having company? To which Richard said: "Have whom you will, sir." +The preparation for festivity commenced accordingly. + +On the birthday eve he dined with the rest. Lady Blandish was there, +and sat penitently at his right. Hippias prognosticated certain +indigestion for himself on the morrow. The Eighteenth Century +wondered whether she should live to see another birthday. Adrian +drank the two-years' distant term of his tutorship, and Algernon +went over the list of the Lobourne men who would cope with Bursley +on the morrow. Sir Austin gave ear and a word to all, keeping his +mental eye for his son. To please Lady Blandish also, Adrian +ventured to make trifling jokes about London's Mrs. Grandison; jokes +delicately not decent, but so delicately so, that it was not decent +to perceive it. + +After dinner Richard left them. Nothing more than commonly peculiar +was observed about him, beyond the excessive glitter of his eyes, +but the baronet said, "Yes, yes! that will pass." He and Adrian, and +Lady Blandish, took tea in the library, and sat till a late hour +discussing casuistries relating mostly to the Apple-disease. +Converse very amusing to the wise youth, who could suggest to the +two chaste minds situations of the shadiest character, with the air +of a seeker after truth, and lead them, unsuspecting, where they +dared not look about them. The Aphorist had elated the heart of his +constant fair worshipper with a newly rounded if not newly conceived +sentence, when they became aware that they were four. Heavy Benson +stood among them. He said he had knocked, but received no answer. +There was, however, a vestige of surprise and dissatisfaction on his +face beholding Adrian of the company, which had not quite worn away, +and gave place, when it did vanish, to an aspect of flabby severity. + +"Well, Benson? well?" said the baronet. + +The unmoving man replied: "If you please, Sir Austin--Mr. Richard!" + +"Well!" + +"He's out!" + +"Well?" + +"With Bakewell!" + +"Well?" + +"And a carpet-bag!" + +The carpet-bag might be supposed to contain that funny thing called +a young hero's romance in the making. + +Out Richard was, and with a carpet-bag, which Tom Bakewell carried. +He was on the road to Bellingham, under heavy rain, hasting like an +escaped captive, wild with joy, while Tom shook his skin, and +grunted at his discomforts. The mail train was to be caught at +Bellingham. He knew where to find her now, through the intervention +of Miss Davenport, and thither he was flying, an arrow loosed from +the bow: thither, in spite of fathers and friends and plotters, to +claim her, and take her, and stand with her against the world. + +They were both thoroughly wet when they entered Bellingham, and +Tom's visions were of hot drinks. He hinted the necessity for inward +consolation to his master, who could answer nothing but "Tom! Tom! I +shall see her to-morrow!" It was bad--travelling in the wet, Tom +hinted again, to provoke the same insane outcry, and have his arm +seized and furiously shaken into the bargain. Passing the principal +inn of the place, Tom spoke plainly for brandy. + +"No!" cried Richard, "there's not a moment to be lost!" and as he +said it, he reeled, and fell against Tom, muttering indistinctly of +faintness, and that there was no time to lose. Tom lifted him in his +arms, and got admission to the inn. Brandy, the country's specific, +was advised by host and hostess, and forced into his mouth, reviving +him sufficiently to cry out, "Tom! the bell's ringing: we shall be +late," after which he fell back insensible on the sofa where they +had stretched him. Excitement of blood and brain had done its work +upon him. The youth suffered them to undress him and put him to bed, +and there he lay, forgetful even of love; a drowned weed borne +onward by the tide of the hours. There his father found him. + +Was the Scientific Humanist remorseful? He had looked forward to +such a crisis as that point in the disease his son was the victim +of, when the body would fail and give the spirit calm to conquer the +malady, knowing very well that the seeds of the evil were not of the +spirit. Moreover, to see him and have him was a repose after the +alarm Benson had sounded. "Mark!" he said to Lady Blandish, "when he +recovers he will not care for her." + +The lady had accompanied him to the Bellingham inn on first hearing +of Richard's seizure. + +"What an iron man you can be," she exclaimed, smothering her +intuitions. She was for giving the boy his bauble; promising it him, +at least, if he would only get well and be the bright flower of +promise he once was. + +"Can you look on him," she pleaded, "can you look on him and +persevere?" + +It was a hard sight for this man who loved his son so deeply. The +youth lay in his strange bed, straight and motionless, with fever on +his cheeks, and altered eyes. + +Old Dr. Clifford of Lobourne was the medical attendant, who, with +head-shaking, and gathering of lips, and reminiscences of ancient +arguments, guaranteed to do all that leech could do in the matter. +The old doctor did admit that Richard's constitution was admirable, +and answered to his prescriptions like a piano to the musician. +"But," he said at a family consultation, for Sir Austin had told him +how it stood with the young man, "drugs are not much in cases of +this sort. Change! That's what's wanted, and as soon as may be. +Distraction! He ought to see the world, and know what he is made of. +It's no use my talking, I know," added the doctor. + +"On the contrary," said Sir Austin, "I am quite of your persuasion. +And the world he shall see--now." + +"We have dipped him in Styx, you know, doctor," Adrian remarked. + +"But, doctor," said Lady Blandish, "have you known a case of this +sort before?" + +"Never, my lady," said the doctor, "they're not common in these +parts. Country people are tolerably healthy-minded." + +"But people--and country people--have died for love, doctor?" + +The doctor had not met any of them. + +"Men, or women?" inquired the baronet. + +Lady Blandish believed mostly women. + +"Ask the doctor whether they were healthy-minded women," said the +baronet. "No! you are both looking at the wrong end. Between a +highly-cultured being, and an emotionless animal, there is all the +difference in the world. But of the two, the doctor is nearer the +truth. The healthy nature is pretty safe. If he allowed for +organization he would be right altogether. To feel, but not to feel +to excess, that is the problem." + + "If I can't have the one I chose, + To some fresh maid I will propose," + +Adrian hummed a country ballad. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +OF THE SPRING PRIMROSE AND THE AUTUMNAL + + +When the young Experiment again knew the hours that rolled him +onward, he was in his own room at Raynham. Nothing had changed: only +a strong fist had knocked him down and stunned him, and he opened +his eyes to a grey world: he had forgotten what he lived for. He was +weak and thin, and with a pale memory of things. His functions were +the same, everything surrounding him was the same: he looked upon +the old blue hills, the far-lying fallows, the river, and the woods: +he knew them, they seemed to have lost recollection of him. Nor +could he find in familiar human faces the secret of intimacy of +heretofore. They were the same faces: they nodded and smiled to him. +What was lost he could not tell. Something had been knocked out of +him! He was sensible of his father's sweetness of manner, and he was +grieved that he could not reply to it, for every sense of shame and +reproach had strangely gone. He felt very useless. In place of the +fiery love for one, he now bore about a cold charity to all. + +Thus in the heart of the young man died the Spring Primrose, and +while it died another heart was pushing forth the Primrose of +Autumn. + +The wonderful change in Richard, and the wisdom of her admirer, now +positively proved, were exciting matters to Lady Blandish. She was +rebuked for certain little rebellious fancies concerning him that +had come across her enslaved mind from time to time. For was he not +almost a prophet? It distressed the sentimental lady that a love +like Richard's could pass off in mere smoke, and words such as she +had heard him speak in Abbey-wood resolve to emptiness. Nay, it +humiliated her personally, and the baronet's shrewd prognostication +humiliated her. For how should he know, and dare to say, that love +was a thing of the dust that could be trodden out under the heel of +science? But he had said so, and he had proved himself right. She +heard with wonderment that Richard of his own accord had spoken to +his father of the folly he had been guilty of, and had begged his +pardon. The baronet told her this, adding that the youth had done it +in a cold unwavering way, without a movement of his features: had +evidently done it to throw off the burden of the duty he had +conceived. He had thought himself bound to acknowledge that he had +been the Foolish Young Fellow, wishing, possibly, to abjure the fact +by an act of penance. He had also given satisfaction to Benson, and +was become a renovated peaceful spirit, whose main object appeared +to be to get up his physical strength by exercise and no expenditure +of speech. + +In her company he was composed and courteous; even when they were +alone together, he did not exhibit a trace of melancholy. Sober he +seemed, as one who has recovered from a drunkenness and has +determined to drink no more. The idea struck her that he might be +playing a part, but Tom Bakewell, in a private conversation they +had, informed her that he had received an order from his young +master, one day while boxing with him, not to mention the young +lady's name to him as long as he lived; and Tom could only suppose +that she had offended him. Theoretically wise Lady Blandish had +always thought the baronet; she was unprepared to find him thus +practically sagacious. She fell many degrees; she wanted something +to cling to; so she clung to the man who struck her low. Love, then, +was earthly; its depth could be probed by science! A man lived who +could measure it from end to end; foretell its term; handle the +young cherub as were he a shot owl! We who have flown into +cousinship with the empyrean, and disported among immortal hosts, +our base birth as a child of Time is made bare to us!--our wings are +cut! Oh, then, if science is this victorious enemy of love, let us +love science! was the logic of the lady's heart; and secretly +cherishing the assurance that she should confute him yet, and prove +him utterly wrong, she gave him the fruits of present success, as it +is a habit of women to do; involuntarily partly. The fires took hold +of her. She felt soft emotions such as a girl feels, and they +flattered her. It was like youth coming back. Pure women have a +second youth. The Autumn primrose flourished. + +We are advised by THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP that-- + +"The ways of women, which are Involution, and their practices, which +are Opposition, are generally best hit upon by guess work, and a +bold word;"--it being impossible to track them and hunt them down in +the ordinary style. + +So that we may not ourselves become involved and opposed, let us +each of us venture a guess and say a bold word as to how it came +that the lady, who trusted love to be eternal, grovelled to him that +shattered her tender faith, and loved him. + +Hitherto it had been simply a sentimental dalliance, and gossips had +maligned the lady. Just when the gossips grew tired of their +slander, and inclined to look upon her charitably, she set about to +deserve every word they had said of her; which may instruct us, if +you please, that gossips have only to persist in lying to be crowned +with verity, or that one has only to endure evil mouths for a period +to gain impunity. She was always at the Abbey now. She was much +closeted with the baronet. It seemed to be understood that she had +taken Mrs. Doria's place. Benson in his misogynic soul perceived +that she was taking Lady Feverel's: but any report circulated by +Benson was sure to meet discredit, and drew the gossips upon +himself; which made his meditations tragic. No sooner was one woman +defeated than another took the field! The object of the System was +no sooner safe than its great author was in danger! + +"I can't think what has come to Benson," he said to Adrian. + +"He seems to have received a fresh legacy of several pounds of +lead," returned the wise youth, and imitating Dr. Clifford's manner. +"Change is what he wants! distraction! send him to Wales for a +month, sir, and let Richard go with him. The two victims of woman +may do each other good." + +"Unfortunately I can't do without him," said the baronet. + +"Then we must continue to have him on our shoulders all day, and on +our chests all night!" Adrian ejaculated. + +"I think while he preserves this aspect we won't have him at the +dinner-table," said the baronet. + +Adrian thought that would be a relief to their digestions; and +added: "You know, sir, what he says?" + +Receiving a negative, Adrian delicately explained to him that +Benson's excessive ponderosity of demeanour was caused by anxiety +for the safety of his master. + +"You must pardon a faithful fool, sir," he continued, for the +baronet became red, and exclaimed: + +"His stupidity is past belief! I have absolutely to bolt my +study-door against him." + +Adrian at once beheld a charming scene in the interior of the study, +not unlike one that Benson had visually witnessed. For, like a wary +prophet, Benson, that he might have warrant for what he foretold of +the future, had a care to spy upon the present: warned haply by THE +PILGRIM'S SCRIP, of which he was a diligent reader, and which says, +rather emphatically: "Could we see Time's full face, we were wise of +him." Now to see Time's full face, it is sometimes necessary to look +through keyholes, the veteran having a trick of smiling peace to you +on one cheek and grimacing confusion on the other behind the +curtain. Decency and a sense of honour restrain most of us from +being thus wise and miserable for ever. Benson's excuse was that he +believed in his master, who was menaced. And moreover, notwithstanding +his previous tribulation, to spy upon Cupid was sweet to him. So he +peeped, and he saw a sight. He saw Time's full face; or, in other +words, he saw the wiles of woman and the weakness of man: which is +our history, as Benson would have written it, and a great many poets +and philosophers have written it. + +Yet it was but the plucking of the Autumn primrose that Benson had +seen: a somewhat different operation from the plucking of the Spring +one: very innocent! Our staid elderly sister has paler blood, and +has, or thinks she has, a reason or two about the roots. She is not +all instinct. "For this high cause, and for that I know men, and +know him to be the flower of men, I give myself to him!" She makes +that lofty inward exclamation while the hand is detaching her from +the roots. Even so strong a self-justification she requires. She has +not that blind glory in excess which her younger sister can gild the +longest leap with. And if, moth-like, she desires the star, she is +nervously cautious of candles. Hence her circles about the dangerous +human flame are wide and shy. She must be drawn nearer and nearer by +a fresh _reason_. She loves to sentimentalize. Lady Blandish had +been sentimentalizing for ten years. She would have preferred to +pursue the game. The dark-eyed dame was pleased with her smooth life +and the soft excitement that did not ruffle it. Not willingly did +she let herself be won. + +"Sentimentalists," says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "are they who seek to +enjoy without incurring the Immense Debtorship for a thing done." + +"It is," the writer says of Sentimentalism elsewhere, "a happy +pastime and an important science to the timid, the idle, and the +heartless; but a damning one to them who have anything to forfeit." + +However, one who could set down the dying for love, as a +sentimentalism, can hardly be accepted as a clear authority. +Assuredly he was not one to avoid the incurring of the immense +debtorship in any way: but he was a bondsman still to the woman who +had forsaken him, and a spoken word would have made it seem his duty +to face that public scandal which was the last evil to him. What had +so horrified the virtuous Benson, Richard had already beheld in +Daphne's Bower; a simple kissing of the fair white hand! Doubtless +the keyhole somehow added to Benson's horror. The two similar +performances, so very innocent, had wondrous opposite consequences. +The first kindled Richard to adore Woman; the second destroyed +Benson's faith in Man. But Lady Blandish knew the difference between +the two. She understood why the baronet did not speak; excused, and +respected him for it. She was content, since she must love, to love +humbly, and she had, besides, her pity for his sorrows to comfort +her. A hundred fresh reasons for loving him arose and multiplied +every day. He read to her the secret book in his own handwriting, +composed for Richard's Marriage Guide: containing Advice and +Directions to a Young Husband, full of the most tender wisdom and +delicacy; so she thought; nay, not wanting in poetry, though neither +rhymed nor measured. He expounded to her the distinctive character +of the divers ages of love, giving the palm to the flower she put +forth, over that of Spring, or the Summer rose. And while they sat +and talked, "My wound has healed," he said. "How?" she asked. "At +the fountain of your eyes," he replied, and drew the joy of new life +from her blushes, without incurring further debtorship for a thing +done. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN WHICH THE HERO TAKES A STEP + + +Let it be some apology for the damage caused by the careering hero, +and a consolation to the quiet wretches, dragged along with him at +his chariot-wheels, that he is generally the last to know when he +has made an actual start; such a mere creature is he, like the rest +of us, albeit the head of our fates. By this you perceive the true +hero, whether he be a prince or a pot-boy, that he does not plot; +Fortune does all for him. He may be compared to one to whom, in an +electric circle, it is given to carry the _battery_. We caper and +grimace at his will; yet not his the will, not his the power. 'Tis +all Fortune's, whose puppet he is. She deals her dispensations +through him. Yea, though our capers be never so comical, he laughs +not. Intent upon his own business, the true hero asks little +services of us here and there; thinks it quite natural that they +should be acceded to, and sees nothing ridiculous in the lamentable +contortions we must go through to fulfil them. Probably he is the +elect of Fortune, because of that notable faculty of being intent +upon his own business: "Which is," says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "with +men to be valued equal to that force which in water _makes a +stream_." This prelude was necessary to the present chapter of +Richard's history. + + * * * * * + +It happened that in the turn of the year, and while old earth was +busy with her flowers, the fresh wind blew, the little bird sang, +and Hippias Feverel, the Dyspepsy, amazed, felt the Spring move +within him. He communicated his delightful new sensations to the +baronet, his brother, whose constant exclamation with regard to him, +was: "Poor Hippias! All his machinery is bare!" and had no hope that +he would ever be in a condition to defend it from view. Nevertheless +Hippias had that hope, and so he told his brother, making great +exposure of his machinery to effect the explanation. He spoke of all +his physical experiences exultingly, and with wonder. The +achievement of common efforts, not usually blazoned, he celebrated +as triumphs, and, of course, had Adrian on his back very quickly. +But he could bear him, or anything, now. It was such ineffable +relief to find himself looking out upon the world of mortals instead +of into the black phantasmal abysses of his own complicated +frightful structure. "My mind doesn't so much seem to haunt itself, +now," said Hippias, nodding shortly and peering out of intense +puckers to convey a glimpse of what hellish sufferings his had been: +"I feel as if I had come above-ground." + +A poor Dyspepsy may talk as he will, but he is the one who never +gets sympathy, or experiences compassion: and it is he whose +groaning petitions for charity do at last rout that Christian +virtue. Lady Blandish, a charitable soul, could not listen to +Hippias, though she had a heart for little mice and flies, and Sir +Austin had also small patience with his brother's gleam of health, +which was just enough to make his disease visible. He remembered his +early follies and excesses, and bent his ear to him as one man does +to another who complains of having to pay a debt legally incurred. + +"I think," said Adrian, seeing how the communications of Hippias +were received, "that when our Nemesis takes lodgings in the +stomach, it's best to act the Spartan, smile hard, and be silent." + +Richard alone was decently kind to Hippias; whether from opposition, or +real affection, could not be said, as the young man was mysterious. He +advised his uncle to take exercise, walked with him, cultivated cheerful +impressions in him, and pointed out innocent pursuits. He made Hippias +visit with him some of the poor old folk of the village, who bewailed +the loss of his cousin Austin Wentworth, and did his best to waken him +up, and give the outer world a stronger hold on him. He succeeded in +nothing but in winning his uncle's gratitude. The season bloomed scarce +longer than a week for Hippias, and then began to languish. The poor +Dyspepsy's eager grasp at beatification relaxed: he went underground +again. He announced that he felt "spongy things"--one of the more +constant throes of his malady. His bitter face recurred: he chewed the +cud of horrid hallucinations. He told Richard he must give up going +about with him: people telling of their ailments made him so +uncomfortable--the birds were so noisy, pairing--the rude bare soil +sickened him. + +Richard treated him with a gravity equal to his father's. He asked +what the doctors said. + +"Oh! the doctors!" cried Hippias with vehement scepticism. "No man +of sense believes in medicine for chronic disorder. Do you happen to +have heard of any new remedy then, Richard? No? They advertise a +great many cures for indigestion, I assure you, my dear boy. I +wonder whether one can rely upon the authenticity of those +signatures? I see no reason why there should be _no_ cure for such a +disease?--Eh? And it's just one of the things a quack, as they call +them, would hit upon sooner than one who is in the beaten track. Do +you know, Richard, my dear boy, I've often thought that if we could +by any means appropriate to our use some of the extraordinary +digestive power that a boa constrictor has in his gastric juices, +there is really no manner of reason why we should not comfortably +dispose of as much of an ox as our stomachs will hold, and one might +eat French dishes without the wretchedness of thinking what's to +follow. And this makes me think that those fellows _may_, after all, +have got some truth in them: some secret that, of course, they +require to be paid for. We distrust each other in this world too +much, Richard. I've felt inclined once or twice--but it's +absurd!--If it only alleviated a few of my sufferings _I_ should be +satisfied. I've no hesitation in saying that I should be quite +satisfied if it only did away with one or two, and left me free to +eat and drink as other people do. Not that I mean to try them. It's +only a fancy--Eh? What a thing health is, my dear boy! Ah! if I were +like you! I was in love once!" + +"Were you!" said Richard, coolly regarding him. + +"I've forgotten what I felt!" Hippias sighed. "You've very much +improved, my dear boy." + +"So people say," quoth Richard. + +Hippias looked at him anxiously: "If I go to town and get the +doctor's opinion, about trying a new course--Eh, Richard? will you +come with me? I should like your company. We could see London +together, you know. Enjoy ourselves," and Hippias rubbed his hands. + +Richard smiled at the feeble glimmer of enjoyment promised by his +uncle's eyes, and said he thought it better they should stay where +they were--an answer that might mean anything. Hippias immediately +became possessed by the beguiling project. He went to the baronet, +and put the matter before him, instancing doctors as the object of +his journey, not quacks, of course; and requesting leave to take +Richard. Sir Austin was getting uneasy about his son's manner. It +was not natural. His heart seemed to be frozen: he had no +confidences: he appeared to have no ambition--to have lost the +virtues of youth with the poison that had passed out of him. He was +disposed to try what effect a little travelling might have on him, +and had himself once or twice hinted to Richard that it would be +good for him to move about, the young man quietly replying that he +did not wish to quit Raynham at all, which was too strict a +fulfilment of his father's original views in educating him there +entirely. On the day that Hippias made his proposal, Adrian, +seconded by Lady Blandish, also made one. The sweet Spring season +stirred in Adrian as well as in others: not to pastoral measures: to +the joys of the operatic world and bravura glories. He also +suggested that it would be advisable to carry Richard to town for a +term, and let him know his position, and some freedom. Sir Austin +weighed the two proposals. He was pretty certain that Richard's +passion was consumed, and that the youth was now only under the +burden of its ashes. He had found against his heart, at the +Bellingham inn: a great lock of golden hair. He had taken it, and +the lover, after feeling about for it with faint hands, never asked +for it. This precious lock (Miss Davenport had thrust it into his +hand at Belthorpe as Lucy's last gift), what sighs and tears it had +weathered! The baronet laid it in Richard's sight one day, and +beheld him take it up, turn it over, and drop it down again calmly, +as if he were handling any common curiosity. It pacified him on that +score. The young man's love was dead. Dr. Clifford said rightly: he +wanted distractions. The baronet determined that Richard should go. +Hippias and Adrian then pressed their several suits as to which +should have him. Hippias, when he could forget himself, did not lack +sense. He observed that Adrian was not at present a proper companion +for Richard, and would teach him to look on life from the false +point. + +"You don't understand a young philosopher," said the baronet. + +"A young philosopher's an old fool!" returned Hippias, not thinking +that his growl had begotten a phrase. + +His brother smiled with gratification, and applauded him loudly: +"Excellent! worthy of your best days! You're wrong, though, in +applying it to Adrian. He has never been precocious. All he has done +has been to bring sound common sense to bear upon what he hears and +sees. I think, however," the baronet added, "he may want faith in +the better qualities of men." And this reflection inclined him not +to let his son be alone with Adrian. He gave Richard his choice, who +saw which way his father's wishes tended, and decided so to please +him. Naturally it annoyed Adrian extremely. He said to his chief: + +"I suppose you know what you are doing, sir. I don't see that we +derive any advantage from the family name being made notorious for +twenty years of obscene suffering, and becoming a byword for our +constitutional tendency to stomachic distention before we +fortunately encountered Quackem's Pill. My uncle's tortures have +been huge, but I would rather society were not intimate with them +under their several headings." Adrian enumerated some of the most +abhorrent. "You know him, sir. If he conceives a duty, he will do it +in the face of every decency--all the more obstinate because the +conception is rare. If he feels a little brisk the morning after the +pill, he sends the letter that makes us famous! We go down to +posterity with heightened characteristics, to say nothing of a +contemporary celebrity nothing less than our being turned inside-out +to the rabble. I confess I don't desire to have my machinery made +bare to them." + +Sir Austin assured the wise youth that Hippias had arranged to go to +Dr. Bairam. He softened Adrian's chagrin by telling him that in +about two weeks they would follow to London: hinting also at a +prospective Summer campaign. The day was fixed for Richard to +depart, and the day came. Madame the Eighteenth Century called him +to her chamber and put into his hand a fifty-pound note, as her +contribution toward his pocket-expenses. He did not want it, he +said, but she told him he was a young man, and would soon make that +fly when he stood on his own feet. The old lady did not at all +approve of the System in her heart, and she gave her grand-nephew to +understand that, should he require more, he knew where to apply, and +secrets would be kept. His father presented him with a hundred +pounds--which also Richard said he did not want--he did not care for +money. "Spend it or not," said the baronet, perfectly secure in him. + +Hippias had few injunctions to observe. They were to take up +quarters at the hotel, Algernon's general run of company at the +house not being altogether wholesome. The baronet particularly +forewarned Hippias of the imprudence of attempting to restrict the +young man's movements, and letting him imagine he was under +surveillance. Richard having been, as it were, pollarded by +despotism, was now to grow up straight, and bloom again, in complete +independence, as far as he could feel. So did the sage decree; and +we may pause a moment to reflect how wise were his previsions, and +how successful they must have been, had not Fortune, the great foe +to human cleverness, turned against him, or he against himself. + +The departure took place on a fine March morning. The bird of +Winter sang from the budding tree; in the blue sky sang the bird of +Summer. Adrian rode between Richard and Hippias to the Bellingham +station, and vented his disgust on them after his own humorous +fashion, because it did not rain and damp their ardour. In the rear +came Lady Blandish and the baronet, conversing on the calm summit of +success. + +"You have shaped him exactly to resemble yourself," she said, +pointing with her riding-whip to the grave, stately figure of the +young man. + +"Outwardly, perhaps," he answered, and led to a discussion on Purity +and Strength, the lady saying that she preferred Purity. + +"But you do not," said the baronet. "And there I admire the always true +instinct of women, that they all worship Strength in whatever form, +and seem to know it to be the child of heaven; whereas Purity is but a +characteristic, a garment, and can be spotted--how soon! For there +are questions in this life with which we must grapple or be lost, +and when, hunted by that cold eye of intense inner-consciousness, the +clearest soul becomes a cunning fox, if it have not courage to stand +and do battle. Strength indicates a boundless nature--like the Maker. +Strength is a God to you--Purity a toy. A pretty one, and you seem to +be fond of playing with it," he added, with unaccustomed slyness. + +The lady listened, pleased at the sportive malice which showed that +the constraint on his mind had left him. It was for women to fight +their fight now; she only took part in it for amusement. This is how +the ranks of our enemies are thinned; no sooner do poor women put up +a champion in their midst than she betrays them. + +"I see," she said archly, "we are the lovelier vessels; you claim +the more direct descent. Men are seedlings: Women--slips! Nay, you +have said so," she cried out at his gestured protestation, laughing. + +"But I never printed it." + +"Oh! what you speak answers for print with me." + +Exquisite Blandish! He could not choose but love her. + +"Tell me what are your plans?" she asked. "May a woman know?" + +He replied, "I have none or you would share them. I shall study him +in the world. This indifference must wear off. I shall mark his +inclinations now, and he shall be what he inclines to. Occupation +will be his prime safety. His cousin Austin's plan of life appears +most to his taste, and he can serve the people that way as well as +in Parliament, should he have no stronger ambition. The clear duty +of a man of any wealth is to serve the people as he best can. He +shall go among Austin's set, if he wishes it, though personally I +find no pleasure in rash imaginations, and undigested schemes built +upon the mere instinct of principles." + +"Look at him now," said the lady. "He seems to care for nothing; not +even for the beauty of the day." + +"Or Adrian's jokes," added the baronet. + +Adrian could be seen to be trying zealously to torment a laugh, or a +confession of irritation, out of his hearers, stretching out his +chin to one, and to the other, with audible asides. Richard he +treated as a new instrument of destruction about to be let loose on +the slumbering metropolis; Hippias as one in an interesting +condition; and he got so much fun out of the notion of these two +journeying together, and the mishaps that might occur to them, that +he esteemed it almost a personal insult for his hearers not to +laugh. The wise youth's dull life at Raynham had afflicted him with +many peculiarities of the professional joker. + +"Oh! the Spring! the Spring!" he cried, as in scorn of his sallies +they exchanged their unmeaning remarks on the sweet weather across +him. "You seem both to be uncommonly excited by the operations of +turtles, rooks, and daws. Why can't you let them alone? + + 'Wind bloweth, + Cock croweth, + Doodle-doo; + Hippy verteth, + Ricky sterteth, + Sing Cuckoo!' + +There's an old native pastoral!--Why don't you write a Spring +sonnet, Ricky? The asparagus-beds are full of promise, I hear, and +eke the strawberry. Berries I fancy your Pegasus has a taste for. +What kind of berry was that I saw some verses of yours about +once?--amatory verses to some kind of berry--yewberry, blueberry, +glueberry! Pretty verses, decidedly warm. Lips, eyes, bosom, +legs--legs? I don't think you gave her any legs. No legs and no +nose. That appears to be the poetic taste of the day. It shall be +admitted that you create the very beauties for a chaste people. + + 'O might I lie where leans her lute!' + +and offend no moral community. That's not a bad image of yours, my +dear boy: + + 'Her shape is like an antelope + Upon the Eastern hills.' + +But as a candid critic, I would ask you if the likeness can be +considered correct when you give her no legs? You will see at the +ballet that you are in error about women at present, Richard. That +admirable institution which our venerable elders have imported from +Gallia for the instruction of our gaping youth, will edify and +astonish you. I assure you I used, from reading THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, +to imagine all sorts of things about them, till I was taken there, +and learnt that they are very like us after all, and then they +ceased to trouble me. Mystery is the great danger to youth, my son! +Mystery is woman's redoubtable weapon, O Richard of the Ordeal! I'm +aware that you've had your lessons in anatomy, but nothing will +persuade you that an anatomical figure means flesh and blood. You +can't realize the fact. Do you intend to publish when you're in +town? It'll be better not to put your name. Having one's name to a +volume of poems is as bad as to an advertising pill." + +"I will send you an early copy, Adrian, when I publish," quoth +Richard. "Hark at that old blackbird, uncle." + +"Yes!" Hippias quavered, looking up from the usual subject of his +contemplation, and trying to take an interest in him, "fine old +fellow!" + +"What a chuckle he gives out before he flies! Not unlike July +nightingales. You know that bird I told you of--the blackbird that +had its mate shot, and used to come to sing to old Dame Bakewell's +bird from the tree opposite. A rascal knocked it over the day +before yesterday, and the dame says her bird hasn't sung a note +since." + +"Extraordinary!" Hippias muttered abstractedly. "I remember the +verses." + +"But where's your moral?" interposed the wrathful Adrian. "Where's +constancy rewarded? + + 'The ouzel-cock so black of hue, + The orange-tawny bill; + The rascal with his aim so true; + The Poet's little quill!' + +Where's the moral of that? except that all's game to the poet! +Certainly we have a noble example of the devotedness of the female, +who for three entire days refuses to make herself heard, on account +of a defunct male. I suppose that's what Ricky dwells on." + +"As you please, my dear Adrian," says Richard, and points out +larch-buds to his uncle, as they ride by the young green wood. + +The wise youth was driven to extremity. Such a lapse from his +pupil's heroics to this last verge of Arcadian coolness, Adrian +could not believe in. "Hark at this old blackbird!" he cried, in his +turn, and pretending to, interpret his fits of song: + +"Oh, what a pretty comedy!--Don't we wear the mask well, my +Fiesco?--Genoa will be our own to-morrow!--Only wait until the train +has started--jolly! jolly! jolly! We'll be winners yet! + +"Not a bad verse--eh, Ricky? my Lucius Junius!" + +"You do the blackbird well," said Richard, and looked at him in a +manner mildly affable. + +Adrian shrugged. "You're a young man of wonderful powers," he +emphatically observed; meaning to say that Richard quite beat him; +for which opinion Richard gravely thanked him, and with this they +rode into Bellingham. + +There was young Tom Blaize at the station, in his Sunday beaver and +gala waistcoat and neck-cloth, coming the lord over Tom Bakewell, +who had preceded his master in charge of the baggage. He likewise +was bound for London. Richard, as he was dismounting, heard Adrian +say to the baronet: "The Beast, sir, appears to be going to fetch +Beauty;" but he paid no heed to the words. Whether young Tom heard +them or not, Adrian's look took the lord out of him, and he shrunk +away into obscurity, where the nearest approach to the fashions +which the tailors of Bellingham could supply to him, sat upon him +more easily, and he was not stiffened by the eyes of the superiors +whom he sought to rival. The baronet, Lady Blandish, and Adrian +remained on horseback, and received Richard's adieux across the +palings. He shook hands with each of them in the same kindly cold +way, eliciting from Adrian a marked encomium on his style of doing +it. The train came up, and Richard stepped after his uncle into one +of the carriages. + +Now surely there will come an age when the presentation of science +at war with Fortune and the Fates will be deemed the true epic of +modern life; and the aspect of a scientific humanist who, by dint of +incessant watchfulness, has maintained a System against those active +forces, cannot be reckoned less than sublime, even though at the +moment he but sit upon his horse, on a fine March morning such as +this, and smile wistfully to behold the son of his heart, his System +incarnate, wave a serene adieu to tutelage, neither too eager nor +morbidly unwilling to try his luck alone for a term of two weeks. At +present, I am aware, an audience impatient for blood and glory +scorns the stress I am putting on incidents so minute, a picture so +little imposing. An audience will come to whom it will be given to +see the elementary machinery at work: who, as it were, from some +slight hint of the straws, will feel the winds of March when they do +not blow. To them will nothing be trivial, seeing that they will +have in their eyes the invisible conflict going on around us, whose +features a nod, a smile, a laugh of ours perpetually changes. And +they will perceive, moreover, that in real life all hangs together: +the train is laid in the lifting of an eyebrow, that bursts upon the +field of thousands. They will see the links of things as they pass, +and wonder not, as foolish people now do, that this great matter +came out of that small one. + +Such an audience, then, will participate in the baronet's +gratification at his son's demeanour, wherein he noted the calm +bearing of experience not gained in the usual wanton way: and will +not be without some excited apprehension at his twinge of +astonishment, when, just as the train went sliding into swiftness, +he beheld the grave, cold, self-possessed young man throw himself +back in the carriage violently laughing. Science was at a loss to +account for that. Sir Austin checked his mind from inquiring, that +he might keep suspicion at a distance, but he thought it odd, and +the jarring sensation that ran along his nerves at the sight, +remained with him as he rode home. + +Lady Blandish's tender womanly intuition bade her say: "You see it +was the very thing he wanted. He has got his natural spirits +already." + +"It was," Adrian put in his word, "the exact thing he wanted. His +spirits have returned miraculously." + +"Something amused him," said the baronet, with an eye on the puffing +train. + +"Probably something his uncle said or did," Lady Blandish suggested, +and led off at a gallop. + +Her conjecture chanced to be quite correct. The cause for Richard's +laughter was simple enough. Hippias, on finding the carriage-door +closed on him, became all at once aware of the bright-haired hope +which dwells in Change, for one who does not woo her too frequently; +and to express his sudden relief from mental despondency at the +amorous prospect, the Dyspepsy bent and gave his hands a sharp rub +between his legs: which unlucky action brought Adrian's pastoral, + + "Hippy verteth, + Sing cuckoo!" + +in such comic colours before Richard, that a demon of laughter +seized him. + + "Hippy verteth!" + +Every time he glanced at his uncle the song sprang up, and he +laughed so immoderately that it looked like madness come upon him. + +"Why, why, why, what are you laughing at, my dear boy," said +Hippias, and was provoked by the contagious exercise to a modest +"ha! ha!" + +"Why, what are _you_ laughing at, uncle?" cried Richard. + +"I really don't know," Hippias chuckled. + +"Nor I, uncle! Sing, cuckoo!" + +They laughed themselves into the pleasantest mood imaginable. +Hippias not only came above-ground, he flew about in the very skies, +_verting_ like any blithe creature of the season. He remembered old +legal jokes, and anecdotes of Circuit; and Richard laughed at them +all, but more at him--he was so genial, and childishly fresh, and +innocently joyful at his own transformation, while a lurking doubt +in the bottom of his eyes, now and then, that it might not last, and +that he must go underground again, lent him a look of pathos and +humour which tickled his youthful companion irresistibly, and made +his heart warm to him. + +"I tell you what, uncle," said Richard, "I think travelling's a +capital thing." + +"The best thing in the world, my dear boy," Hippias returned. "It +makes me wish I had given up that Work of mine, and tried it before, +instead of chaining myself to a task. We're quite different beings +in a minute. I am. Hem! what shall we have for dinner?" + +"Leave that to me, uncle. I shall order for you. You know, I intend +to make you well. How gloriously we go along! I should like to ride +on a railway every day." + +Hippias remarked: "They say it rather injures the digestion." + +"Nonsense! see how you'll digest to-night and to-morrow." + +"Perhaps I shall do something yet," sighed Hippias, alluding to the +vast literary fame he had aforetime dreamed of. "I hope I shall have +a good night to-night." + +"Of course you will! What! after laughing like that?" + +"Ugh!" Hippias grunted, "I daresay, Richard, you sleep the moment +you get into bed!" + +"The instant my head's on my pillow, and up the moment I wake. +Health's everything!" + +"Health's everything!" echoed Hippias, from his immense distance. + +"And if you'll put yourself in my hands," Richard continued, "you +shall do just as I do. You shall be well and strong, and sing +'Jolly!' like Adrian's blackbird. You shall, upon my honour, uncle!" + +He specified the hours of devotion to his uncle's recovery--no less +than twelve a day--that he intended to expend, and his cheery +robustness almost won his uncle to leap up recklessly and clutch +health as his own. + +"Mind," quoth Hippias, with a half-seduced smile, "mind your dishes +are not too savoury!" + +"Light food and claret! Regular meals and amusement! Lend your heart +to all, but give it to none!" exclaims young Wisdom, and Hippias +mutters, "Yes! yes!" and intimates that the origin of his malady lay +in his not following that maxim earlier. + +"Love ruins us, my dear boy," he said, thinking to preach Richard a +lesson, and Richard boisterously broke out-- + + "The love of Monsieur Francatelli, + It was the ruin of--_et caetera_." + +Hippias blinked, exclaiming, "Really, my dear boy! I never saw you +so excited." + +"It's the railway! It's the fun, uncle!" + +"Ah!" Hippias wagged a melancholy head, "you've got the Golden +Bride! Keep her if you can. That's a pretty fable of your father's. +I gave him the idea, though. Austin filches a great many of my +ideas!" + +"Here's the idea in verse, uncle-- + + 'O sunless walkers by the tide! + O have you seen the Golden Bride! + They say that she is fair beyond + All women; faithful, and more fond!' + +You know, the young inquirer comes to a group of penitent sinners by +the brink of a stream. They howl, and answer: + + 'Faithful she is, but she forsakes: + And fond, yet endless woe she makes: + And fair! but with this curse she's cross'd; + To know her not till she is lost!' + +Then the doleful party march off in single file solemnly, and the +fabulist pursues-- + + 'She hath a palace in the West: + Bright Hesper lights her to her rest: + And him the Morning Star awakes + Whom to her charmed arms she takes. + + 'So lives he till he sees, alas! + The maids of baser metal pass.' + +And prodigal of the happiness she lends him, he asks to share it +with one of them. There is the Silver Maid, and the Copper, and the +Brassy Maid, and others of them. First, you know, he tries +Argentine, and finds her only twenty to the pound, and has a worse +experience with Copperina, till he descends to the scullery; and the +lower he goes, the less obscure become the features of his Bride of +Gold, and all her radiance shines forth, my uncle!" + +"Verse rather blunts the point. Well, keep to her, now you've got +her," says Hippias. + +"We will, uncle! Look how the farms fly past! Look at the cattle in +the fields! And how the lines duck, and swim up! + + 'She claims the whole, and not the part-- + The coin of an unused heart! + To gain his Golden Bride again, + He hunts with melancholy men,' + +--and is waked no longer by the Morning Star!" + +"Not if he doesn't sleep till an hour before it rises!" Hippias +interjected. "You don't rhyme badly. But stick to prose. Poetry's a +Base-metal maid. I'm not sure that any writing's good for the +digestion. I'm afraid it has spoilt mine." + +"Fear nothing, uncle!" laughed Richard. "You shall ride in the park +with me every day to get an appetite. You and I and the Golden +Bride. You know that little poem of Sandoe's? + + 'She rides in the park on a prancing bay, + She and her squires together; + Her dark locks gleam from a bonnet of grey, + And toss with the tossing feather. + + 'Too calmly proud for a glance of pride + Is the beautiful face as it passes; + The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses. + + 'And throng to her, sigh to her, you that can breach + The ice-wall that guards her securely; + You have not such bliss, though she smile on you each, + As the heart that can image her purely.' + +Wasn't Sandoe once a friend of my father's? I suppose they +quarrelled. He understands the heart. What does he make his 'Humble +Lover' say? + + 'True, Madam, you may think to part + Conditions by a glacier-ridge, + But Beauty's for the largest heart, + And all abysses Love can bridge!'" + +Hippias now laughed; grimly, as men laugh at the emptiness of words. + +"Largest heart!" he sneered. "What's a 'glacier-ridge'? I've never +seen one. I can't deny it rhymes with 'bridge.' But don't go +parading your admiration of that person, Richard. Your father will +speak to you on the subject when he thinks fit." + +"I thought they had quarrelled," said Richard. "What a pity!" and he +murmured to a pleased ear: + + "Beauty's for the largest heart!" + +The flow of their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of +passengers at a station. Richard examined their faces with pleasure. +All faces pleased him. Human nature sat tributary at the feet of him +and his Golden Bride. As he could not well talk his thoughts before +them, he looked out at the windows, and enjoyed the changing +landscape, projecting all sorts of delights for his old friend +Ripton, and musing hazily on the wondrous things he was to do in the +world; of the great service he was to be to his fellow-creatures. In +the midst of his reveries he was landed in London. Tom Bakewell +stood at the carriage door. A glance told Richard that his squire +had something curious on his mind, and he gave Tom the word to +speak out. Tom edged his master out of hearing, and began sputtering +a laugh. + +"Dash'd if I can help it, sir!" he said. "That young Tom! He've come +to town dressed that spicy! and he don't know his way about no more +than a stag. He's come to fetch somebody from another rail, and he +don't know how to get there, and he ain't sure about which rail +'tis. Look at him, Mr. Richard! There he goes." + +Young Tom appeared to have the weight of all London on his beaver. + +"Who has he come for?" Richard asked. + +"Don't you know, sir? You don't like me to mention the name," +mumbled Tom, bursting to be perfectly intelligible. + +"Is it for her, Tom?" + +"Miss Lucy, sir." + +Richard turned away, and was seized by Hippias, who begged him to +get out of the noise and pother, and caught hold of his slack arm to +bear him into a conveyance; but Richard, by wheeling half to the +right, or left, always got his face round to the point where young +Tom was manoeuvring to appear at his ease. Even when they were +seated in the conveyance, Hippias could not persuade him to drive +off. He made the excuse that he did not wish to start till there was +a clear road. At last young Tom cast anchor by a policeman, and, +doubtless at the official's suggestion, bashfully took seat in a +cab, and was shot into the whirlpool of London. Richard then angrily +asked his driver what he was waiting for. + +"Are you ill, my boy?" said Hippias. "Where's your colour?" + +He laughed oddly, and made a random answer that he hoped the fellow +would drive fast. + +"I hate slow motion after being in the railway," he said. + +Hippias assured him there was something the matter with him. + +"Nothing, uncle! nothing!" said Richard, looking fiercely candid. + +They say, that when the skill and care of men rescue a drowned +wretch from extinction, and warm the flickering spirit into steady +flame, such pain it is, the blood forcing its way along the dry +channels, and the heavily-ticking nerves, and the sullen heart--the +struggle of life and death in him--grim death relaxing his gripe; +such pain it is, he cries out no thanks to them that pull him by +inches from the depths of the dead river. And he who has thought a +love extinct, and is surprised by the old fires, and the old +tyranny, he rebels, and strives to fight clear of the cloud of +forgotten sensations that settle on him; such pain it is, the old +sweet music reviving through his frame, and the charm of his passion +fixing him afresh. Still was fair Lucy the one woman to Richard. He +had forbidden her name but from an instinct of self-defence. Must +the maids of baser metal dominate him anew, it is in Lucy's shape. +Thinking of her now so near him--his darling! all her graces, her +sweetness, her truth; for, despite his bitter blame of her, he knew +her true--swam in a thousand visions before his eyes; visions +pathetic, and full of glory, that now wrung his heart, and now +elated it. As well might a ship attempt to calm the sea, as this +young man the violent emotion that began to rage in his breast. "I +shall not see her!" he said to himself exultingly, and at the same +instant thought, how black was every corner of the earth but that +one spot where Lucy stood! how utterly cheerless the place he was +going to! Then he determined to bear it; to live in darkness; there +was a refuge in the idea of a voluntary martyrdom. "For if I chose I +could see her--this day within an hour!--I could see her, and touch +her hand, and, oh, heaven!--But I do not choose." And a great wave +swelled through him, and was crushed down only to swell again more +stormily. + +Then Tom Bakewell's words recurred to him that young Tom Blaize was +uncertain where to go for her, and that she might be thrown on this +Babylon alone. And flying from point to point, it struck him that +they had known at Raynham of her return, and had sent him to town to +be out of the way--they had been miserably plotting against him once +more. "They shall see what right they have to fear me. I'll shame +them!" was the first turn taken by his wrathful feelings, as he +resolved to go, and see her safe, and calmly return to his uncle, +whom he sincerely believed not to be one of the conspirators. +Nevertheless, after forming that resolve, he sat still, as if there +was something fatal in the wheels that bore him away from +it--perhaps because he knew, as some do when passion is lord, that +his intelligence juggled with him; though none the less keenly did +he feel his wrongs and suspicions. His Golden Bride was waning fast. +But when Hippias ejaculated to cheer him: "We shall soon be there!" +the spell broke. Richard stopped the cab, saying he wanted to speak +to Tom, and would ride with him the rest of the journey. He knew +well enough which line of railway his Lucy must come by. He had +studied every town and station on the line. Before his uncle could +express more than a mute remonstrance, he jumped out and hailed Tom +Bakewell, who came behind with the boxes and baggage in a companion +cab, his head a yard beyond the window to make sure of his ark of +safety, the vehicle preceding. + +"What an extraordinary, impetuous boy it is," said Hippias. "We're +in the very street!" + +Within a minute the stalwart Berry, despatched by the baronet to +arrange everything for their comfort, had opened the door, and made +his bow. + +"Mr. Richard, sir?--evaporated?" was Berry's modulated inquiry. + +"Behind--among the boxes, fool!" Hippias growled, as he received +Berry's muscular assistance to alight. "Lunch ready--eh!" + +"Luncheon was ordered precise at two o'clock, sir--been in +attendance one quarter of an hour. Heah!" Berry sang out to the +second cab, which, with its pyramid of luggage, remained stationary +some thirty paces distant. At his voice the majestic pile +deliberately turned its back on them, and went off in a contrary +direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +RECORDS THE RAPID DEVELOPMENT OF THE HERO + + +On the stroke of the hour when Ripton Thompson was accustomed to +consult his good watch for practical purposes, and sniff freedom and +the forthcoming dinner, a burglarious foot entered the clerk's +office where he sat, and a man of a scowling countenance, who looked +a villain, and whom he was afraid he knew, slid a letter into his +hands, nodding that it would be prudent for him to read, and be +silent. Ripton obeyed in alarm. Apparently the contents of the +letter relieved his conscience; for he reached down his hat, and +told Mr. Beazley to inform his father that he had business of +pressing importance in the West, and should meet him at the station. +Mr. Beazley zealously waited upon the paternal Thompson without +delay, and together making their observations from the window, they +beheld a cab of many boxes, into which Ripton darted and was +followed by one in groom's dress. It was Saturday, the day when +Ripton gave up his law-readings, magnanimously to bestow himself +upon his family, and Mr. Thompson liked to have his son's arm as he +walked down to the station; but that third glass of Port which +always stood for his second, and the groom's suggestion of +aristocratic acquaintances, prevented Mr. Thompson from interfering: +so Ripton was permitted to depart. + +In the cab Ripton made a study of the letter he held. It had the +preciseness of an imperial mandate. + + "DEAR RIPTON,--You are to get lodgings for a lady immediately. + Not a word to a soul. Then come along with Tom. + + R. D. F." + + + +"Lodgings for a lady!" Ripton meditated aloud: "What sort of +lodgings? Where am I to get lodgings? Who's the lady?--I say!" he +addressed the mysterious messenger. "So you're Tom Bakewell, are +you, Tom?" + +Tom grinned his identity. + +"Do you remember the rick, Tom? Ha! ha! We got out of that neatly. +We might all have been transported, though. I could have convicted +you, Tom, safe! It's no use coming across a practised lawyer. Now +tell me." Ripton having nourished his powers, commenced his +examination: "Who's this lady?" + +"Better wait till you see Mr. Richard, sir," Tom resumed his scowl +to reply. + +"Ah!" Ripton acquiesced. "Is she young, Tom?" + +Tom said she was not old. + +"Handsome, Tom?" + +"Some might think one thing, some another," Tom said. + +"And where does she come from now?" asked Ripton with the friendly +cheerfulness of a baffled counsellor. + +"Comes from the country, sir." + +"A friend of the family, I suppose? a relation?" + +Ripton left this insinuating query to be answered by a look. Tom's +face was a dead blank. + +"Ah!" Ripton took a breath, and eyed the mask opposite him. "Why, +you're quite a scholar, Tom! Mr. Richard is well? All right at +home?" + +"Come to town this mornin' with his uncle," said Tom. "All well, +thank ye, sir." + +"Ha!" cried Ripton, more than ever puzzled, "now I see. You all came +to town to-day, and these are your boxes outside. So, so! But Mr. +Richard writes for me to get lodgings for a lady. There must be some +mistake--he wrote in a hurry. He wants lodgings for you all--eh?" + +"'M sure I d'n know what he wants," said Tom. "You'd better go by +the letter, sir." + +Ripton re-consulted that document. "'Lodgings for a lady, and then +come along with Tom. Not a word to a soul.' I say! that looks +like--but he never cared for _them_. You don't mean to say, Tom, +he's been running away with anybody?" + +Tom fell back upon his first reply: "Better wait till ye see Mr. +Richard, sir," and Ripton exclaimed: "Hanged if you ain't the +tightest witness I ever saw! I shouldn't like to have you in a box. +Some of you country fellows beat any number of cockneys. You do!" + +Tom received the compliment stubbornly on his guard, and Ripton, as +nothing was to be got out of him, set about considering how to +perform his friend's injunctions; deciding firstly, that a lady +fresh from the country ought to lodge near the parks, in which +direction he told the cabman to drive. Thus, unaware of his high +destiny, Ripton joined the hero, and accepted his character in the +New Comedy. + +It is, nevertheless, true that certain favoured people do have +beneficent omens to prepare them for their parts when the hero is in +full career, so that they really may be nerved to meet him; ay, and +to check him in his course, had they that signal courage. For +instance, Mrs. Elizabeth Berry, a ripe and wholesome landlady of +advertised lodgings, on the borders of Kensington, noted, as she sat +rocking her contemplative person before the parlour fire this very +March afternoon, a supernatural tendency in that fire to burn _all +on one side_: which signifies that a wedding approaches the house. +Why--who shall say? Omens are as impassable as heroes. It may be +because in these affairs the fire is thought to be all on one side. +Enough that the omen exists, and spoke its solemn warning to the +devout woman. Mrs. Berry, in her circle, was known as a certified +lecturer against the snares of matrimony. Still that was no reason +why she should not like a wedding. Expectant, therefore, she watched +the one glowing cheek of Hymen, and with pleasing tremours beheld a +cab of many boxes draw up by her bit of garden, and a gentleman +emerge from it in the act of consulting an advertisement paper. The +gentleman required lodgings for a lady. Lodgings for a lady Mrs. +Berry could produce, and a very roseate smile for a gentleman; so +much so that Ripton forgot to ask about the terms, which made the +landlady in Mrs. Berry leap up to embrace him as the happy man. But +her experienced woman's eye checked her enthusiasm. He had not the +air of a bridegroom: he did not seem to have a weight on his chest, +or an itch to twiddle everything with his fingers. At any rate, he +was not the bridegroom for whom omens fly abroad. Promising to have +all ready for the lady within an hour, Mrs. Berry fortified him with +her card, curtsied him back to his cab, and floated him off on her +smiles. + +The remarkable vehicle which had woven this thread of intrigue +through London streets, now proceeded sedately to finish its +operations. Ripton was landed at a hotel in Westminster. Ere he was +half-way up the stairs, a door opened, and his old comrade in +adventure rushed down. Richard allowed up time for salutations. +"Have you done it?" was all he asked. For answer Ripton handed him +Mrs. Berry's card. Richard took it, and left him standing there. +Five minutes elapsed, and then Ripton heard the gracious rustle of +feminine garments above. Richard came a little in advance, leading +and half supporting a figure in a black-silk mantle and small black +straw bonnet; young--that was certain, though she held her veil so +close he could hardly catch the outlines of her face; girlishly +slender, and sweet and simple in appearance. The hush that came with +her, and her soft manner of moving, stirred the silly youth to some +of those ardours that awaken the Knight of Dames in our bosoms. He +felt that he would have given considerable sums for her to lift her +veil. He could see that she was trembling--perhaps weeping. It was +the master of her fate she clung to. They passed him without +speaking. As she went by, her head passively bent, Ripton had a +glimpse of noble tresses and a lovely neck; great golden curls hung +loosely behind, pouring from under her bonnet. She looked a captive +borne to the sacrifice. What Ripton, after a sight of those curls, +would have given for her just to lift her veil an instant and strike +him blind with beauty, was, fortunately for his exchequer, never +demanded of him. And he had absolutely been composing speeches as he +came along in the cab! gallant speeches for the lady, and sly +congratulatory ones for his friend, to be delivered as occasion +should serve, that both might know him a man of the world, and be at +their ease. He forgot the smirking immoralities he had revelled in. +This was clearly serious. Ripton did not require to be told that his +friend was in love, and meant that life and death business called +marriage, parents and guardians consenting or not. + +Presently Richard returned to him, and said hurriedly, "I want you +now to go to my uncle at our hotel. Keep him quiet till I come. Say +I had to see you--say anything. I shall be there by the dinner hour. +Rip! I must talk to you alone after dinner." + +Ripton feebly attempted to reply that he was due at home. He was +very curious to hear the plot of the New Comedy; and besides, there +was Richard's face questioning him sternly and confidently for signs +of unhesitating obedience. He finished his grimaces by asking the +name and direction of the hotel. Richard pressed his hand. It is +much to obtain even that recognition of our devotion from the hero. + +Tom Bakewell also received his priming, and, to judge by his +chuckles and grins, rather appeared to enjoy the work cut out for +him. In a few minutes they had driven to their separate +destinations; Ripton was left to the unusual exercise of his fancy. +Such is the nature of youth and its thirst for romance, that only to +act as a subordinate is pleasant. When one unfurls the standard of +defiance to parents and guardians, he may be sure of raising a +lawless troop of adolescent ruffians, born rebels, to any amount. +The beardless crew know that they have not a chance of pay; but what +of that when the rosy prospect of thwarting their elders is in view? +Though it is to see another eat the Forbidden Fruit, they will run +all his risks with him. Gaily Ripton took rank as lieutenant in the +enterprise, and the moment his heart had sworn the oaths, he was +rewarded by an exquisite sense of the charms of existence. London +streets wore a sly laugh to him. He walked with a dandified heel. +The generous youth ogled aristocratic carriages, and glanced +intimately at the ladies, overflowingly happy. The crossing-sweepers +blessed him. He hummed lively tunes, he turned over old jokes in his +mouth unctuously, he hugged himself, he had a mind to dance down +Piccadilly, and all because a friend of his was running away with a +pretty girl, and he was in the secret. + +It was only when he stood on the door-step of Richard's hotel, that +his jocund mood was a little dashed by remembering that he had then +to commence the duties of his office, and must fabricate a plausible +story to account for what he knew nothing about--a part that the +greatest of sages would find it difficult to perform. The young, +however, whom sages well may envy, seldom fail in lifting their +inventive faculties to the level of their spirits, and two minutes +of Hippias's angry complaints against the friend he serenely +inquired for, gave Ripton his cue. + +"We're in the very street--within a stone's-throw of the house, and +he jumps like a harlequin out of my cab into another; he must be +mad--that boy's got madness in him!--and carries off all the +boxes--my dinner-pills, too! and keeps away the whole of the day, +though he promised to go to the doctor, and had a dozen engagements +with me," said Hippias, venting an enraged snarl to sum up his +grievances. + +Ripton at once told him that the doctor was not at home. + +"Why, you don't mean to say he's been to the doctor?" Hippias cried +out. + +"He has called on him twice, sir," said Ripton, expressively. "On +leaving me he was going a third time. I shouldn't wonder that's what +detains him--he's so determined." + +By fine degrees Ripton ventured to grow circumstantial, saying that +Richard's case was urgent and required immediate medical advice; and +that both he and his father were of opinion Richard should not lose +an hour in obtaining it. + +"He's alarmed about himself," said Ripton, and tapped his chest. + +Hippias protested he had never heard a word from his nephew of any +physical affliction. + +"He was afraid of making you anxious, I think, sir." + +Algernon Feverel and Richard came in while he was hammering at the +alphabet to recollect the first letter of the doctor's name. They +had met in the hall below, and were laughing heartily as they +entered the room. Ripton jumped up to get the initiative. + +"Have you seen the doctor?" he asked, significantly plucking at +Richard's fingers. + +Richard was all abroad at the question. + +Algernon clapped him on the back. "What the deuce do you want with +doctor, boy?" + +The solid thump awakened him to see matters as they were. "Oh, ay! +the doctor!" he said, smiling frankly at his lieutenant. "Why, he +tells me he'd back me to do Milo's trick in a week from the present +day.--Uncle," he came forward to Hippias, "I hope you'll excuse me +for running off as I did. I was in a hurry. I left something at the +railway. This stupid Rip thinks I went to the doctor about myself. +The fact was, I wanted to fetch the doctor to see you here--so that +you might have no trouble, you know. You can't bear the sight of his +instruments and skeletons--I've heard you say so. You said it set +all your marrow in revolt--'fried your marrow,' I think were the +words, and made you see twenty thousand different ways of sliding +down to the chambers of the Grim King. Don't you remember?" + +Hippias emphatically did not remember, and he did not believe the +story. Irritation at the mad ravishment of his pill-box rendered him +incredulous. As he had no means of confuting his nephew, all he +could do safely to express his disbelief in him, was to utter +petulant remarks on his powerlessness to appear at the dinner-table +that day: upon which--Berry just then trumpeting dinner--Algernon +seized one arm of the Dyspepsy, and Richard another, and the +laughing couple bore him into the room where dinner was laid, Ripton +sniggering in the rear, the really happy man of the party. + +They had fun at the dinner-table. Richard would have it; and his +gaiety, his by-play, his princely superiority to truth and heroic +promise of over-riding all our laws, his handsome face, the lord and +possessor of beauty that he looked, as it were a star shining on his +forehead, gained the old complete mastery over Ripton, who had been, +mentally at least, half patronizing him till then, because he knew +more of London and life, and was aware that his friend now depended +upon him almost entirely. + +After a second circle of the claret, the hero caught his +lieutenant's eye across the table, and said: + +"We must go out and talk over that law-business, Rip, before you go. +Do you think the old lady has any chance?" + +"Not a bit!" said Ripton, authoritatively. + +"But it's worth fighting--eh, Rip?" + +"Oh, certainly!" was Ripton's mature opinion. + +Richard observed that Ripton's father seemed doubtful. Ripton cited +his father's habitual caution. Richard made a playful remark on the +necessity of sometimes acting in opposition to fathers. Ripton +agreed to it--in certain cases. + +"Yes, yes! in certain cases," said Richard. + +"Pretty legal morality, gentlemen!" Algernon interjected; Hippias +adding: "And lay, too!" + +The pair of uncles listened further to the fictitious dialogue, well +kept up on both sides, and in the end desired a statement of the old +lady's garrulous case; Hippias offering to decide what her chances +were in law, and Algernon to give a common-sense judgment. + +"Rip will tell you," said Richard, deferentially signalling the +lawyer. "I've a bad hand at these matters. Tell them how it stands, +Rip." + +Ripton disguised his excessive uneasiness under endeavours to right +his position on his chair, and, inwardly praying speed to the claret +jug to come and strengthen his wits, began with a careless aspect: +"Oh, nothing! She--very curious old character! She--a--wears a wig. +She--a--very curious old character indeed! She--a--quite the old +style. There's no doing anything with her!" and Ripton took a long +breath to relieve himself after his elaborate fiction. + +"So it appears," Hippias commented, and Algernon asked: "Well? and +about her wig? Somebody stole it?" while Richard, whose features +were grim with suppressed laughter, bade the narrator continue. + +Ripton lunged for the claret jug. He had got an old lady like an +oppressive bundle on his brain, and he was as helpless as she was. +In the pangs of ineffectual authorship his ideas shot at her wig, +and then at her one characteristic of extreme obstinacy, and tore +back again at her wig, but she would not be animated. The obstinate +old thing would remain a bundle. Law studies seemed light in +comparison with this tremendous task of changing an old lady from a +doll to a human creature. He flung off some claret, perspired +freely, and, with a mental tribute to the cleverness of those author +fellows, recommenced: "Oh, nothing! She--Richard knows her better +than I do--an old lady--somewhere down in Suffolk. I think we had +better advise her not to proceed. The expenses of litigation are +enormous! She--I think we had better advise her to stop short, and +not make any scandal." + +"And not make any scandal!" Algernon took him up. "Come, come! +there's something more than a wig, then?" + +Ripton was commanded to proceed, whether she did or no. The luckless +fictionist looked straight at his pitiless leader, and blurted out +dubiously, "She--there's a daughter." + +"Born with effort!" ejaculated Hippias. "Must give her pause after +that! and I'll take the opportunity to stretch my length on the +sofa. Heigho! that's true what Austin says: 'The general prayer +should be for a full stomach, and the individual for one that works +well; for on that basis only are we a match for temporal matters, +and able to contemplate eternal.' Sententious, but true. I gave him +the idea, though! Take care of your stomachs, boys! and if ever you +hear of a monument proposed to a scientific cook or gastronomic +doctor, send in your subscriptions. Or say to him while he lives, Go +forth, and be a Knight. Ha! They have a good cook at this house. He +suits me better than ours at Raynham. I almost wish I had brought my +manuscript to town, I feel so much better. Aha! I didn't expect to +digest at all without my regular incentive. I think I shall give it +up.--What do you say to the theatre to-night, boys!" + +Richard shouted, "Bravo, uncle!" + +"Let Mr. Thompson finish first," said Algernon. "I want to hear the +conclusion of the story. The old girl has a wig and a daughter. I'll +swear somebody runs away with one of the two! Fill your glass, Mr. +Thompson, and forward!" + +"So somebody does," Ripton received his impetus. "And they're found +in town together," he made a fresh jerk. "She--a--that is, the old +lady--found them in company." + +"She finds him with her wig on in company!" said Algernon. "Capital! +Here's matter for the lawyers!" + +"And you advise her not to proceed, under such circumstances of +aggravation?" Hippias observed, humorously twinkling with his +stomachic contentment. + +"It's the daughter," Ripton sighed, and surrendering to pressure, +hurried on recklessly, "A runaway match--beautiful girl!--the only +son of a baronet--married by special licence. A--the point is," he +now brightened and spoke from his own element, "the point is whether +the marriage can be annulled, as she's of the Catholic persuasion +and he's a Protestant, and they're both married under age. That's +the point." + +Having come to the point he breathed extreme relief, and saw things +more distinctly; not a little amazed at his leader's horrified face. + +The two elders were making various absurd inquiries, when Richard +sent his chair to the floor, crying, "What a muddle you're in, Rip! +You're mixing half-a-dozen stories together. The old lady I told you +about was old Dame Bakewell, and the dispute was concerning a +neighbour of hers who encroached on her garden, and I said I'd pay +the money to see her righted!" + +"Ah," said Ripton, humbly, "I was thinking of the other. Her garden! +Cabbages don't interest me"---- + +"Here, come along," Richard beckoned to him savagely. "I'll be back +in five minutes, uncle," he nodded coolly to either. + +The young men left the room. In the hall-passage they met Berry, +dressed to return to Raynham. Richard dropped a helper to the +intelligence into his hand, and warned him not to gossip much of +London. Berry bowed perfect discreetness. + +"What on earth induced you to talk about Protestants and Catholics +marrying, Rip?" said Richard, as soon as they were in the street. + +"Why," Ripton answered, "I was so hard pushed for it, 'pon my +honour, I didn't know what to say. I ain't an author, you know; I +can't make a story. I was trying to invent a point, and I couldn't +think of any other, and I thought that was just the point likely to +make a jolly good dispute. Capital dinners they give at those crack +hotels. Why did you throw it all upon me? I didn't begin on the old +lady." + +The hero mused, "It's odd! It's impossible you could have known! +I'll tell you why, Rip! I wanted to try you. You fib well at long +range, but you don't do at close quarters and single combat. You're +good behind walls, but not worth a shot in the open. I just see what +you're fit for. You're staunch--that I am certain of. You always +were. Lead the way to one of the parks--down in that direction. You +know?--where she is!" + +Ripton led the way. His dinner had prepared this young Englishman +to defy the whole artillery of established morals. With the muffled +roar of London around them, alone in a dark slope of green, the +hero, leaning on his henchman, and speaking in a harsh clear +undertone, delivered his explanations. Doubtless the true heroic +insignia and point of view will be discerned, albeit in common +private's uniform. + +"They've been plotting against me for a year, Rip! When you see her, +you'll know what it was to have such a creature taken away from you. +It nearly killed me. Never mind what she is. She's the most perfect +and noble creature God ever made! It's not only her beauty--I don't +care so much about that!--but when you've once seen her, she seems +to draw music from all the nerves of your body; but she's such an +angel. I worship her. And her mind's like her face. She's pure gold. +There, you'll see her to-night. + +"Well," he pursued, after inflating Ripton with this rapturous +prospect, "they got her away, and I recovered. It was Mister +Adrian's work. What's my father's objection to her? Because of her +birth? She's educated; her manners are beautiful--full of +refinement--quick and soft! Can they show me one of their ladies +like her?--she's the daughter of a naval lieutenant! Because she's a +Catholic? What has religion to do with"--he pronounced "Love!" a +little modestly--as it were a blush in his voice. + +"Well, when I recovered I thought I did not care for her. It shows +how we know ourselves! And I cared for nothing. I felt as if I had +no blood. I tried to imitate my dear Austin. I wish to God he were +here. I love Austin. He would understand her. He's coming back this +year, and then--but it'll be too late then.--Well, my father's +always scheming to make me perfect--he has never spoken to me a word +about her, but I can see her in his eyes--he wanted to give me a +change, he said, and asked me to come to town with my uncle Hippy, +and I consented. It was another plot to get me out of the way! As I +live, I had no more idea of meeting her than of flying to heaven!" + +He lifted his face. "Look at those old elm branches! How they seem +to mix among the stars!--glittering; fruits of Winter!" + +Ripton tipped his comical nose upward, and was in duty bound to say, +Yes! though he observed no connection between them and the +narrative. + +"Well," the hero went on, "I came to town. There I heard she was +coming, too--coming home. It must have been fate, Ripton! Heaven +forgive me! I was angry with her, and I thought I should like to see +her once--only once--and reproach her for being false--for she never +wrote to me. And, oh, the dear angel! what she must have +suffered!--I gave my uncle the slip, and got to the railway she was +coming by. There was a fellow going to meet her--a farmer's +son--and, good God! they were going to try and make her marry him! I +remembered it all then. A servant of the farm had told me. That +fellow went to the wrong station, I suppose, for we saw nothing of +him. There she was--not changed a bit!--looking lovelier than ever! +And when she saw me, I knew in a minute that she must love me till +death!--You don't know what it is yet, Rip!--Will you believe +it?--Though I was as sure she loved me and had been true as steel, +as that I shall see her to-night, I spoke bitterly to her. And she +bore it meekly--she looked like a saint. I told her there was but +one hope of life for me--she must prove she was true, and as I give +up all, so must she. I don't know what I said. The thought of losing +her made me mad. She tried to plead with me to wait--it was for my +sake, I know. I pretended, like a miserable hypocrite, that she did +not love me at all. I think I said shameful things. Oh what noble +creatures women are! She hardly had strength to move. I took her to +that place where you found us.--Rip! she went down on her knees to +me. I never dreamed of anything in life so lovely as she looked +then. Her eyes were thrown up, bright with a crowd of tears--her +dark brows bent together, like Pain and Beauty meeting in one; and +her glorious golden hair swept off her shoulders as she hung forward +to my hands.--Could I lose such a prize?--If anything could have +persuaded me, would not that?--I thought of Dante's Madonna--Guido's +Magdalen.--Is there sin in it? I see none! And if there is, it's all +mine! I swear she's spotless of a thought of sin. I see her very +soul! Cease to love her? Who dares ask me? Cease to love her? Why, I +live on her!--To see her little chin straining up from her throat, +as she knelt to me!--there was one curl that fell across her +throat".... + +Ripton listened for more. Richard had gone off in a muse at the +picture. + +"Well?" said Ripton, "and how about that young farmer fellow?" + +The hero's head was again contemplating the starry branches. His +lieutenant's question came to him after an interval. + +"Young Tom? Why, it's young Tom Blaize--son of our old enemy, Rip! I +like the old man now. Oh! I saw nothing of the fellow." + +"Lord!" cried Ripton, "are we going to get into a mess with Blaizes +again? I don't like that!" + +His commander quietly passed his likes or dislikes. + +"But when he goes to the train, and finds she's not there?" Ripton +suggested. + +"I've provided for that. The fool went to the South-east instead of +the South-west. All warmth, all sweetness, comes with the +South-west!--I've provided for that, friend Rip. My trusty Tom +awaits him there, as if by accident. He tells him he has not seen +her, and advises him to remain in town, and go for her there +to-morrow, and the day following. Tom has money for the work. Young +Tom ought to see London, you know, Rip!--like you. We shall gain +some good clear days. And when old Blaize hears of it--what then? I +have her! she's mine!--Besides, he won't hear for a week. This Tom +beats that Tom in cunning, I'll wager. Ha! ha!" the hero burst out +at a recollection. "What do you think, Rip? My father has some sort +of System with me, it appears, and when I came to town the time +before, he took me to some people--the Grandisons--and what do you +think? one of the daughters is a little girl--a nice little thing +enough--very funny--and he wants me to wait for her! He hasn't said +so, but I know it. I know what he means. Nobody understands him but +me. I know he loves me, and is one of the best of men--but just +consider!--a _little girl_ who just comes up to my elbow. Isn't it +ridiculous? Did you ever hear such nonsense?" + +Ripton emphasized his opinion that it certainly was foolish. + +"No, no! The die's cast!" said Richard. "They've been plotting for a +year up to this day, and this is what comes of it! If my father +loves me, he will love her. And if he loves me, he'll forgive my +acting against his wishes, and see it was the only thing to be done. +Come! step out! what a time we've been!" and away he went, +compelling Ripton to the sort of strides a drummer-boy has to take +beside a column of grenadiers. + +Ripton began to wish himself in love, seeing that it endowed a man +with wind so that he could breathe great sighs, while going at a +tremendous pace, and experience no sensation of fatigue. The hero +was communing with the elements, his familiars, and allowed him to +pant as he pleased. Some keen-eyed Kensington urchins, noticing the +discrepancy between the pedestrian powers of the two, aimed their +wit at Mr. Thompson junior's expense. The pace, and nothing but the +pace, induced Ripton to proclaim that they had gone too far, when +they discovered that they had overshot the mark by half a mile. In +the street over which stood love's star, the hero thundered his +presence at a door, and evoked a flying housemaid, who knew not Mrs. +Berry. The hero attached significance to the fact that his instincts +should have betrayed him, for he could have sworn to that house. The +door being shut he stood in dead silence. + +"Haven't you got her card?" Ripton inquired, and heard that it was +in the custody of the cabman. Neither of them could positively bring +to mind the number of the house. + +"You ought to have chalked it, like that fellow in the Forty +Thieves," Ripton hazarded a pleasantry which met with no response. + +Betrayed by his instincts, the magic slaves of Love! The hero +heavily descended the steps. + +Ripton murmured that they were done for. His commander turned on +him, and said: "Take all the houses on the opposite side, one after +another. I'll take these." With a wry face Ripton crossed the road, +altogether subdued by Richard's native superiority to adverse +circumstances. + +Then were families aroused. Then did mortals dimly guess that +something portentous was abroad. Then were labourers all day in the +vineyard, harshly wakened from their evening's nap. Hope and Fear +stalked the street, as again and again the loud companion summonses +resounded. Finally Ripton sang out cheerfully. He had Mrs. Berry +before him, profuse of mellow curtsies. + +Richard ran to her and caught her hands: "She's well?--upstairs?" + +"Oh, quite well! only a trifle tired with her journey, and +fluttering-like," Mrs. Berry replied to Ripton alone. The lover had +flown aloft. + +The wise woman sagely ushered Ripton into her own private parlour, +there to wait till he was wanted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +CONTAINS AN INTERCESSION FOR THE HEROINE + + +"In all cases where two have joined to commit an offence, punish one +of the two lightly," is the dictum of THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP. + + * * * * * + +It is possible for young heads to conceive proper plans of action, +and occasionally, by sheer force of will, to check the wild horses +that are ever fretting to gallop off with them. But when they have +given the reins and the whip to another, what are they to do? They +may go down on their knees, and beg and pray the furious charioteer +to stop, or moderate his pace. Alas! each fresh thing they do +redoubles his ardour. There is a power in their troubled beauty +women learn the use of, and what wonder? They have seen it kindle +Ilium to flames so often! But ere they grow matronly in the house of +Menelaus, they weep, and implore, and do not, in truth, know how +terribly two-edged is their gift of loveliness. They resign +themselves to an incomprehensible frenzy; pleasant to them, because +they attribute it to excessive love. And so the very sensible things +which they can and do say, are vain. + +I reckon it absurd to ask them to be quite in earnest. Are not those +their own horses in yonder team? Certainly, if they were quite in +earnest, they might soon have my gentleman as sober as a carter. A +hundred different ways of disenchanting him exist, and Adrian will +point you out one or two that shall be instantly efficacious. For +Love, the charioteer, is easily tripped, while honest jog-trot Love +keeps his legs to the end. Granted dear women are not quite in +earnest, still the mere words they utter should be put to their good +account. They do mean them, though their hearts are set the wrong +way. 'Tis a despairing, pathetic homage to the judgment of the +majority, in whose faces they are flying. Punish Helen, very young, +lightly. After a certain age you may select her for special +chastisement. An innocent with Theseus, with Paris she is an +advanced incendiary. + +The fair young girl was sitting as her lover had left her; trying to +recall her stunned senses. Her bonnet was unremoved, her hands +clasped on her knees; dry tears in her eyes. Like a dutiful slave, +she rose to him. And first he claimed her mouth. There was a speech, +made up of all the pretty wisdom her wild situation and true love +could gather, awaiting him there; but his kiss scattered it to +fragments. She dropped to her seat weeping, and hiding her shamed +cheeks. + +By his silence she divined his thoughts, and took his hand and drew +it to her lips. + +He bent beside her, bidding her look at him. + +"Keep your eyes so." + +She could not. + +"Do you fear me, Lucy?" + +A throbbing pressure answered him. + +"Do you love me, darling?" + +She trembled from head to foot. + +"Then why do you turn from me?" + +She wept: "O Richard, take me home! take me home!" + +"Look at me, Lucy!" + +Her head shrank timidly round. + +"Keep your eyes on me, darling! Now speak!" + +But she could not look and speak too. The lover knew his mastery +when he had her eyes. + +"You wish me to take you home?" + +She faltered: "O Richard? it is not too late." + +"You regret what you have done for me?" + +"Dearest! it is ruin." + +"You weep because you have consented to be mine?" + +"Not for me! O Richard!" + +"For me you weep? Look at me! For me?" + +"How will it end! O Richard!" + +"You weep for me?" + +"Dearest! I would die for you!" + +"Would you see me indifferent to everything in the world? Would you +have me lost? Do you think I will live another day in England +without you? I have staked all I have on you, Lucy. You have nearly +killed me once. A second time, and the earth will not be troubled by +me. You ask me to wait, when they are plotting against us on all +sides? Darling Lucy! look on me. Fix your fond eyes on me. You ask +me to wait when here you are given to me--when you have proved my +faith--when we know we love as none have loved. Give me your eyes! +Let them tell me I have your heart!" + +Where was her wise little speech? How could she match such mighty +eloquence? She sought to collect a few more of the scattered +fragments. + +"Dearest! your father may be brought to consent by and by, and +then--oh! if you take me home now"---- + +The lover stood up. "He who has been arranging that fine scheme to +disgrace and martyrize you? True, as I live! that's the reason of +their having you back. Your old servant heard him and your uncle +discussing it. He!--Lucy! he's a good man, but he must not step in +between you and me. I say God has given you to me." + +He was down by her side again, his arms enfolding her. + +She had hoped to fight a better battle than in the morning, and she +was weaker and softer. + +Ah! why should she doubt that his great love was the first law to +her? Why should she not believe that she would wreck him by +resisting? And if she suffered, oh sweet to think it was for his +sake! Sweet to shut out wisdom; accept total blindness, and be led +by him! + +The hag Wisdom annoyed them little further. She rustled her garments +ominously, and vanished. + +"Oh, my own Richard!" the fair girl just breathed. + +He whispered, "Call me that name." + +She blushed deeply. + +"Call me that name," he repeated. "You said it once to-day." + +"Dearest!" + +"Not that." + +"O darling!" + +"Not that." + +"Husband!" + +She was won. The rosy gate from which the word had issued was closed +with a seal. + +Ripton did not enjoy his introduction to the caged bird of beauty +that night. He received a lesson in the art of pumping from the +worthy landlady below, up to an hour when she yawned, and he +blinked, and their common candle wore with dignity the brigand's hat +of midnight, and cocked a drunken eye at them from under it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +RELATES HOW PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION WERE CONDUCTED UNDER THE APRIL +OF LOVERS + + +Beauty, of course, is for the hero. Nevertheless, it is not always +he on whom beauty works its most conquering influence. It is the +dull commonplace man into whose slow brain she drops like a +celestial light, and burns lastingly. The poet, for instance, is a +connoisseur of beauty: to the artist she is a model. These gentlemen +by much contemplation of her charms wax critical. The days when they +had hearts being gone, they are haply divided between the blonde and +the brunette; the aquiline nose and the Proserpine; this shaped eye +and that. But go about among simple unprofessional fellows, boors, +dunderheads, and here and there you shall find some barbarous +intelligence which has had just enough to conceive, and has taken +Beauty as its Goddess, and knows but one form to worship, in its +poor stupid fashion, and would perish for her. Nay, more: the man +would devote all his days to her, though he is dumb as a dog. And, +indeed, he is Beauty's Dog. Almost every Beauty has her Dog. The +hero possesses her; the poet proclaims her; the painter puts her +upon canvas; and the faithful Old Dog follows her: and the end of it +all is that the faithful Old Dog is her single attendant. Sir Hero +is revelling in the wars, or in Armida's bowers; Mr. Poet has spied +a wrinkle; the brush is for the rose in its season. She turns to her +Old Dog then. She hugs him; and he, who has subsisted on a bone and +a pat till there he squats decrepit, he turns his grateful old eyes +up to her, and has not a notion that she is hugging sad memories in +him: Hero, Poet, Painter, in one scrubby one! Then is she buried, +and the village hears languid howls, and there is a paragraph in the +newspapers concerning the extraordinary fidelity of an Old Dog. + +Excited by suggestive recollections of Nooredeen and the Fair +Persian, and the change in the obscure monotony of his life by his +having quarters in a crack hotel, and living familiarly with +West-End people--living on the fat of the land (which forms a stout +portion of an honest youth's romance), Ripton Thompson breakfasted +next morning with his chief at half-past eight. The meal had been +fixed overnight for seven, but Ripton slept a great deal more than +the nightingale, and (to chronicle his exact state) even half-past +eight rather afflicted his new aristocratic senses and reminded him +too keenly of law and bondage. He had preferred to breakfast at +Algernon's hour, who had left word for eleven. Him, however, it was +Richard's object to avoid, so they fell to, and Ripton no longer +envied Hippias in bed. Breakfast done, they bequeathed the consoling +information for Algernon that they were off to hear a popular +preacher, and departed. + +"How happy everybody looks!" said Richard, in the quiet Sunday +streets. + +"Yes--jolly!" said Ripton. + +"When I'm--when this is over, I'll see that they are, too--as many +as I can make happy," said the hero; adding softly: "Her blind was +down at a quarter to six. I think she slept well!" + +"You've been there this morning?" Ripton exclaimed; and an idea of +what love was dawned upon his dull brain. + +"Will she see me, Ricky?" + +"Yes. She'll see you to-day. She was tired last night." + +"Positively?" + +Richard assured him that the privilege would be his. + +"Here," he said, coming under some trees in the park, "here's where +I talked to you last night. What a time it seems! How I hate the +night!" + +On the way, that Richard might have an exalted opinion of him, +Ripton hinted decorously at a somewhat intimate and mysterious +acquaintance with the sex. Headings of certain random adventures he +gave. + +"Well!" said his chief, "why not marry her?" + +Then was Ripton shocked, and cried, "Oh!" and had a taste of the +feeling of superiority, destined that day to be crushed utterly. + +He was again deposited in Mrs. Berry's charge for a term that caused +him dismal fears that the Fair Persian still refused to show her +face, but Richard called out to him, and up Ripton went, unaware of +the transformation he was to undergo. Hero and Beauty stood together +to receive him. From the bottom of the stairs he had his vivaciously +agreeable smile ready for them, and by the time he entered the room +his cheeks were painfully stiff, and his eyes had strained beyond +their exact meaning. Lucy, with one hand anchored to her lover, +welcomed him kindly. He relieved her shyness by looking so extremely +silly. They sat down, and tried to commence a conversation, but +Ripton was as little master of his tongue as he was of his eyes. +After an interval, the Fair Persian having done duty by showing +herself, was glad to quit the room. Her lord and possessor then +turned inquiringly to Ripton. + +"You don't wonder now, Rip?" he said. + +"No, Richard!" Ripton waited to reply with sufficient solemnity, +"indeed I don't!" + +He spoke differently; he looked differently. He had the Old Dog's +eyes in his head. They watched the door she had passed through; they +listened for her, as dogs' eyes do. When she came in, bonneted for a +walk, his agitation was dog-like. When she hung on her lover +timidly, and went forth, he followed without an idea of envy, or +anything save the secret raptures the sight of her gave him, which +are the Old Dog's own. For beneficent Nature requites him. His +sensations cannot be heroic, but they have a fulness and a wagging +delight as good in their way. And this capacity for humble +unaspiring worship has its peculiar guerdon. When Ripton comes to +think of Miss Random now, what will he think of himself? Let no one +despise the Old Dog. Through him doth Beauty vindicate her sex. + +It did not please Ripton that others should have the bliss of +beholding her, and as, to his perceptions, everybody did, and +observed her offensively, and stared, and turned their heads back, +and interchanged comments on her, and became in a minute madly in +love with her, he had to smother low growls. They strolled about the +pleasant gardens of Kensington all the morning, under the young +chestnut buds, and round the windless waters, talking, and soothing +the wild excitement of their hearts. If Lucy spoke, Ripton pricked +up his ears. She, too, made the remark that everybody seemed to look +happy, and he heard it with thrills of joy. "So everybody is, where +you are!" he would have wished to say, if he dared, but was +restrained by fears that his burning eloquence would commit him. +Ripton knew the people he met twice. It would have been difficult to +persuade him they were the creatures of accident. + +From the Gardens, in contempt of Ripton's frowned protest, Richard +boldly struck into the park, where solitary carriages were beginning +to perform the circuit. Here Ripton had some justification for his +jealous pangs. The young girl's golden locks of hair; her sweet, now +dreamily sad, face; her gentle graceful figure in the black straight +dress she wore; a sort of half-conventional air she had--a mark of +something not of class, that was partly beauty's, partly maiden +innocence growing conscious, partly remorse at her weakness and dim +fear of the future it was sowing--did attract the eye-glasses. +Ripton had to learn that eyes are bearable, but eye-glasses an +abomination. They fixed a spell upon his courage; for somehow the +youth had always ranked them as emblems of our nobility, and hearing +two exquisite eye-glasses, who had been to front and rear several +times, drawl in gibberish generally imputed to lords, that his +heroine was a charming little creature, just the size, but had no +style,--he was abashed; he did not fly at them and tear them. He +became dejected. Beauty's dog is affected by the eye-glass in a +manner not unlike the common animal's terror of the human eye. + +Richard appeared to hear nothing, or it was homage that he heard. He +repeated to Lucy Diaper Sandoe's verses-- + + "The cockneys nod to each other aside, + The coxcombs lift their glasses," + +and projected hiring a horse for her to ride every day in the park, +and shine among the highest. + +They had turned to the West, against the sky glittering through the +bare trees across the water, and the bright-edged rack. The lover, +his imagination just then occupied in clothing earthly glories in +celestial, felt where his senses were sharpest the hand of his +darling falter, and instinctively looked ahead. His uncle Algernon +was leisurely jolting towards them on his one sound leg. The +dismembered Guardsman talked to a friend whose arm supported him, +and speculated from time to time on the fair ladies driving by. The +two white faces passed him unobserved. Unfortunately Ripton, coming +behind, went plump upon the Captain's live toe--or so he pretended, +crying, "Confound it, Mr. Thompson! you might have chosen the +other." + +The horrible apparition did confound Ripton, who stammered that it +was extraordinary. + +"Not at all," said Algernon. "Everybody makes up to that fellow. +Instinct, I suppose!" + +He had not to ask for his nephew. Richard turned to face the matter. + +"Sorry I couldn't wait for you this morning, uncle," he said, with +the coolness of relationship. "I thought you never walked so far." + +His voice was in perfect tone--the heroic mask admirable. + +Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to +allude to the popular preacher. He was instantly introduced to +Ripton's sister, Miss Thompson. + +The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew's +choice of a minister. After a few stray remarks, and an affable +salute to Miss Thompson, he hobbled away, and then the three sealed +volcanoes breathed, and Lucy's arm ceased to be squeezed quite so +much up to the heroic pitch. + +This incident quickened their steps homeward to the sheltering wings +of Mrs. Berry. All that passed between them on the subject comprised +a stammered excuse from Ripton for his conduct, and a good-humoured +rejoinder from Richard, that he had gained a sister by it: at which +Ripton ventured to wish aloud Miss Desborough would only think so, +and a faint smile twitched poor Lucy's lips to please him. She +hardly had strength to reach her cage. She had none to eat of Mrs. +Berry's nice little dinner. To be alone, that she might cry and ease +her heart of its accusing weight of tears, was all she prayed for. +Kind Mrs. Berry, slipping into her bedroom to take off her things, +found the fair body in a fevered shudder, and finished by undressing +her completely and putting her to bed. + +"Just an hour's sleep, or so," the mellifluous woman explained the +case to the two anxious gentlemen. "A quiet sleep and a cup of warm +tea goes for more than twenty doctors, it do--when there's the +flutters," she pursued. "I know it by myself. And a good cry +before-hand's better than the best of medicine." + +She nursed them into a make-believe of eating, and retired to her +softer charge and sweeter babe, reflecting, "Lord! Lord! the three +of 'em don't make fifty! I'm as old as two and a half of 'em, to say +the least." Mrs. Berry used her apron, and by virtue of their tender +years took them all three into her heart. + +Left alone, neither of the young men could swallow a morsel. + +"Did you see the change come over her?" Richard whispered. + +Ripton fiercely accused his prodigious stupidity. + +The lover flung down his knife and fork: "What could I do? If I had +said nothing, we should have been suspected. I was obliged to speak. +And she hates a lie! See! it has struck her down. God forgive me!" + +Ripton affected a serene mind: "It was a fright, Richard," he said. +"That's what Mrs. Berry means by flutters. Those old women talk in +that way. You heard what she said. And these old women know. I'll +tell you what it is. It's this, Richard!--it's because you've got a +fool for your friend!" + +"She regrets it," muttered the lover. "Good God! I think she fears +me." He dropped his face in his hands. + +Ripton went to the window, repeating energetically for his comfort: +"It's because you've got a fool for your friend!" + +Sombre grew the street they had last night aroused. The sun was +buried alive in cloud. Ripton saw himself no more in the opposite +window. He watched the deplorable objects passing on the pavement. +His aristocratic visions had gone like his breakfast. Beauty had +been struck down by his egregious folly, and there he stood--a +wretch! + +Richard came to him: "Don't mumble on like that, Rip!" he said. +"Nobody blames you." + +"Ah! you're very kind, Richard," interposed the wretch, moved at the +face of misery he beheld. + +"Listen to me, Rip! I shall take her home to-night. Yes! If she's +happier away from me!--do you think me a brute, Ripton? Rather than +have her shed a tear, I'd!----I'll take her home to-night!" + +Ripton suggested that it was sudden; adding from his larger +experience, people perhaps might talk. + +The lover could not understand what they should talk about, but he +said: "If I give him who came for her yesterday the clue? If no one +sees or hears of me, what can they say? O Rip! I'll give her up. I'm +wrecked for ever! What of that? Yes--let them take her! The world in +arms should never have torn her from me, but when she cries--Yes! +all's over. I'll find him at once." + +He searched in out-of-the-way corners for the hat of resolve. Ripton +looked on, wretcheder than ever. + +The idea struck him:--"Suppose, Richard, she doesn't want to go?" + +It was a moment when, perhaps, one who sided with parents and +guardians and the old wise world, might have inclined them to pursue +their righteous wretched course, and have given small Cupid a smack +and sent him home to his naughty Mother. Alas! (it is THE PILGRIM'S +SCRIP interjecting) women are the born accomplices of mischief! In +bustles Mrs. Berry to clear away the refection, and find the two +knights helmed, and sees, though 'tis dusk, that they wear doubtful +brows, and guesses bad things for her dear God Hymen in a twinkling. + +"Dear! dear!" she exclaimed, "and neither of you eaten a scrap! And +there's my dear young lady off into the prettiest sleep you ever +see!" + +"Ha?" cried the lover, illuminated. + +"Soft as a baby!" Mrs. Berry averred. "I went to look at her this +very moment, and there's not a bit of trouble in her breath. It come +and it go like the sweetest regular instrument ever made. The Black +Ox haven't trod on _her_ foot yet! Most like it was the air of +London. But only fancy, if you had called in a doctor! Why, I +shouldn't have let her take any of his quackery. Now, there!" + +Ripton attentively observed his chief, and saw him doff his hat with +a curious caution, and peer into its recess, from which, during Mrs. +Berry's speech, he drew forth a little glove--dropped there by some +freak of chance. + +"Keep me, keep me, now you have me!" sang the little glove, and +amused the lover with a thousand conceits. + +"When will she wake, do you think, Mrs. Berry?" he asked. + +"Oh! we mustn't go for disturbing her," said the guileful good +creature. "Bless ye! let her sleep it out. And if you young +gentlemen was to take my advice, and go and take a walk for to get a +appetite--everybody should eat! it's their sacred duty, no matter +what their feelings be! and I say it who'm no chicken!--I'll +frickashee this--which is a chicken--against your return. I'm a +cook, I can assure ye!" + +The lover seized her two hands. "You're the best old soul in the +world!" he cried. Mrs. Berry appeared willing to kiss him. "We won't +disturb her. Let her sleep. Keep her in bed, Mrs. Berry. Will you? +And we'll call to inquire after her this evening, and come and see +her to-morrow. I'm sure you'll be kind to her. There! there!" Mrs. +Berry was preparing to whimper. "I trust her to you, you see. +Good-bye, you dear old soul." + +He smuggled a handful of gold into her keeping, and went to dine +with his uncles, happy and hungry. + +Before they reached the hotel, they had agreed to draw Mrs. Berry +into their confidence, telling her (with embellishments) all save +their names, so that they might enjoy the counsel and assistance of +that trump of a woman, and yet have nothing to fear from her. Lucy +was to receive the name of Letitia, Ripton's youngest and +best-looking sister. The heartless fellow proposed it in cruel +mockery of an old weakness of hers. + +"Letitia!" mused Richard. "I like the name. Both begin with L. +There's something soft--womanlike--in the L.'s." + +Material Ripton remarked that they looked like pounds on paper. The +lover roamed through his golden groves. "Lucy Feverel! that sounds +better! I wonder where Ralph is. I should like to help him. He's in +love with my cousin Clare. He'll never do anything till he marries. +No man can. I'm going to do a hundred things when it's over. We +shall travel first. I want to see the Alps. One doesn't know what +the earth is till one has seen the Alps. What a delight it will be +to her! I fancy I see her eyes gazing up at them. + + 'And oh, your dear blue eyes, that heavenward glance + With kindred beauty, banished humbleness, + Past weeping for mortality's distress-- + Yet from your soul a tear hangs there in trance, + And fills, but does not fall; + Softly I hear it call + At heaven's gate, till Sister Seraphs press + To look on you their old love from the skies: + Those are the eyes of Seraphs bright on your blue eyes!' + +Beautiful! These lines, Rip, were written by a man who was once a +friend of my father's. I intend to find him and make them friends +again. You don't care for poetry. It's no use your trying to swallow +it, Rip!" + +"It sounds very nice," said Ripton, modestly shutting his mouth. + +"The Alps! Italy! Rome! and then I shall go to the East," the hero +continued. "She's ready to go anywhere with me, the dear brave +heart! Oh, the glorious golden East! I dream of the desert. I dream +I'm chief of an Arab tribe, and we fly all white in the moonlight on +our mares, and hurry to the rescue of my darling! And we push the +spears, and we scatter them, and I come to the tent where she +crouches, and catch her to my saddle, and away!--Rip! what a life!" + +Ripton strove to imagine he could enjoy it. + +"And then we shall come home, and I shall lead Austin's life, with +her to help me. First be virtuous, Rip! and then serve your country +heart and soul. A wise man told me that. I think I shall do +something." + +Sunshine and cloud, cloud and sunshine, passed over the lover. Now +life was a narrow ring; now the distances extended, were winged, +flew illimitably. An hour ago and food was hateful. Now he manfully +refreshed his nature, and joined in Algernon's encomiums on Miss +Letitia Thompson. + +Meantime Beauty slept, watched by the veteran volunteer of the +hero's band. Lucy awoke from dreams which seemed reality, to the +reality which was a dream. She awoke calling for some friend, +"Margaret!" and heard one say, "My name is Bessy Berry, my love! not +Margaret." Then she asked piteously where she was, and where was +Margaret, her dear friend, and Mrs. Berry whispered, "Sure you've +got a dearer!" + +"Ah!" sighed Lucy, sinking on her pillow, overwhelmed by the +strangeness of her state. + +Mrs. Berry closed the frill of her nightgown and adjusted the +bedclothes quietly. + +Her name was breathed. + +"Yes, my love?" she said. + +"Is he here?" + +"He's gone, my dear." + +"Gone?--Oh, where?" The young girl started up in disorder. + +"Gone, to be back, my love! Ah! that young gentleman!" Mrs. Berry +chanted: "Not a morsel have he eat; not a drop have he drunk!" + +"O Mrs. Berry! why did you not make him?" Lucy wept for the +famine-struck hero, who was just then feeding mightily. + +Mrs. Berry explained that to make one eat who thought the darling +of his heart like to die, was a sheer impossibility for the +cleverest of women; and on this deep truth Lucy reflected, with her +eyes wide at the candle. She wanted one to pour her feelings out to. +She slid her hand from under the bedclothes, and took Mrs. Berry's, +and kissed it. The good creature required no further avowal of her +secret, but forthwith leaned her consummate bosom to the pillow, and +petitioned heaven to bless them both!--Then the little bride was +alarmed, and wondered how Mrs. Berry could have guessed it. + +"Why," said Mrs. Berry, "your love is out of your eyes, and out of +everything ye do." And the little bride wondered more. She thought +she had been so very cautious not to betray it. The common woman in +them made cheer together after their own April fashion. Following +which Mrs. Berry probed for the sweet particulars of this beautiful +love-match; but the little bride's lips were locked. She only said +her lover was above her in station. + +"And you're a Catholic, my dear!" + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And him a Protestant." + +"Yes, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Dear, dear!--And why shouldn't ye be?" she ejaculated, seeing +sadness return to the bridal babe. "So as you was born, so shall ye +be! But you'll have to make your arrangements about the children. +The girls to worship with you, the boys with him. It's the same God, +my dear! You mustn't blush at it, though you do look so pretty. If +my young gentleman could see you now!" + +"Please, Mrs. Berry!" Lucy murmured. + +"Why, he will, you know, my dear!" + +"Oh, please, Mrs. Berry!" + +"And you that can't bear the thoughts of it! Well, I do wish there +was fathers and mothers on both sides and dockments signed, and +bridesmaids, and a breakfast! but love is love, and ever will be, in +spite of them." + +She made other and deeper dives into the little heart, but though +she drew up pearls, they were not of the kind she searched for. The +one fact that hung as a fruit upon her tree of Love, Lucy had given +her; she would not, in fealty to her lover, reveal its growth and +history, however sadly she yearned to pour out all to this dear old +Mother Confessor. + +Her conduct drove Mrs. Berry from the rosy to the autumnal view of +matrimony, generally heralded by the announcement that it is a +lottery. + +"And when you see your ticket," said Mrs. Berry, "you shan't know +whether it's a prize or a blank. And, Lord knows! some go on +thinking it's a prize when it turns on 'em and tears 'em. I'm one of +the blanks, my dear! I drew a blank in Berry. He was a black Berry +to me, my dear! Smile away! he truly was, and I a-prizin' him as +proud as you can conceive! My dear!" Mrs. Berry pressed her hands +flat on her apron. "We hadn't been a three months man and wife, when +that man--it wasn't the honeymoon, which some can't say--that +man--Yes! he kicked me. His wedded wife he kicked! Ah!" she sighed +to Lucy's large eyes, "I could have borne that. A blow don't touch +the heart," the poor creature tapped her sensitive side. "I went on +loving of him, for I'm a soft one. Tall as a Grenadier he is, and +when out of service grows his moustache. I used to call him my +body-guardsman--like a Queen! I flattered him like the fools we +women are. For, take my word for it, my dear, there's nothing here +below so vain as a man! That I know. But I didn't deserve it.... I'm +a superior cook.... I did not deserve that noways." Mrs. Berry +thumped her knee, and accentuated up her climax: "I mended his +linen. I saw to his adornments--he called his clothes, the bad man! +I was a servant to him, my dear! and there--it was nine months--nine +months from the day he swear to protect and cherish and that--nine +calendar months, and my gentleman is off with another woman! Bone of +his bone!--pish!" exclaimed Mrs. Berry, reckoning her wrongs over +vividly. "Here's my ring. A pretty ornament! What do it mean? I'm +for tearin' it off my finger a dozen times in the day. It's a +symbol? I call it a tomfoolery for the dead-alive to wear it, that's +a widow and not a widow, and haven't got a name for what she is in +any Dixonary. I've looked, my dear, and"--she spread out her +arms--"Johnson haven't got a name for me!" + +At this impressive woe Mrs. Berry's voice quavered into sobs. Lucy +spoke gentle words to the poor outcast from Johnson. The sorrows of +Autumn have no warning for April. The little bride, for all her +tender pity, felt happier when she had heard her landlady's moving +tale of the wickedness of man, which cast in bright relief the glory +of that one hero who was hers. Then from a short flight of +inconceivable bliss, she fell, shot by one on her hundred Argus-eyed +fears. + +"O Mrs. Berry! I'm so young! Think of me--only just seventeen!" + +Mrs. Berry immediately dried her eyes to radiance. "Young, my dear! +Nonsense! There's no so much harm in being young, here and there. I +knew an Irish lady was married at fourteen. Her daughter married +close over fourteen. She was a grandmother by thirty! When any +strange man began, she used to ask him what pattern caps +grandmothers wore. They'd stare! Bless you! the grandmother could +have married over and over again. It was her daughter's fault, not +hers, you know." + +"She was three years younger," mused Lucy. + +"She married beneath her, my dear. Ran off with her father's +bailiff's son. 'Ah, Berry!' she'd say, 'if I hadn't been foolish, I +should be my lady now--not Granny!' Her father never forgave +her--left all his estates out of the family." + +"Did her husband always love her?" Lucy preferred to know. + +"In his way, my dear, he did," said Mrs. Berry, coming upon her +matrimonial wisdom. "He couldn't help himself. If he left off, he +began again. She was so clever, and did make him so comfortable. +Cook! there wasn't such another cook out of a Alderman's kitchen; +no, indeed! And she a born lady! That tells ye it's the duty of all +women! She had her saying--'When the parlour fire gets low, put +coals on the ketchen fire!' and a good saying it is to treasure. +Such is man! no use in havin' their hearts if ye don't have their +stomachs." + +Perceiving that she grew abstruse, Mrs. Berry added briskly: "You +know nothing about that yet, my dear. Only mind me and mark me: +don't neglect your cookery. Kissing don't last: cookery do!" + +Here, with an aphorism worthy a place in THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, she +broke off to go posseting for her dear invalid. Lucy was quite well; +very eager to be allowed to rise and be ready when the knock should +come. Mrs. Berry, in her loving considerateness for the little +bride, positively commanded her to lie down, and be quiet, and +submit to be nursed and cherished. For Mrs. Berry well knew that ten +minutes alone with the hero could only be had while the little bride +was in that unattainable position. + +Thanks to her strategy, as she thought, her object was gained. The +night did not pass before she learnt, from the hero's own mouth, +that Mr. Richards, the father of the hero, and a stern lawyer, was +averse to his union with this young lady he loved, because of a ward +of his, heiress to an immense property, whom he desired his son to +espouse; and because his darling Letitia was a Catholic--Letitia, +the sole daughter of a brave naval officer deceased, and in the +hands of a savage uncle, who wanted to sacrifice this beauty to a +brute of a son. Mrs. Berry listened credulously to the emphatic +narrative, and spoke to the effect that the wickedness of old people +formed the excuse for the wildness of young ones. The ceremonious +administration of oaths of secrecy and devotion over, she was +enrolled in the hero's band, which now numbered three, and entered +upon the duties with feminine energy, for there are no conspirators +like women. Ripton's lieutenancy became a sinecure, his rank merely +titular. He had never been married--he knew nothing about licences, +except that they must be obtained, and were not difficult--he had +not an idea that so many days' warning must be given to the +clergyman of the parish where one of the parties was resident. How +should he? All his forethought was comprised in the ring, and +whenever the discussion of arrangements for the great event grew +particularly hot and important, he would say, with a shrewd nod: "We +mustn't forget the ring, you know, Mrs. Berry!" and the new member +was only prevented by natural complacence from shouting: "Oh, drat +ye! and your ring, too." Mrs. Berry had acted conspicuously in +fifteen marriages, by banns, and by licence, and to have such an +obvious requisite dinned in her ears was exasperating. They could +not have contracted alliance with an auxiliary more invaluable, an +authority so profound; and they acknowledged it to themselves. The +hero marched like an automaton at her bidding; Lieutenant Thompson +was rejoiced to perform services as errand-boy in the enterprise. + +"It's in hopes you'll be happier than me, I do it," said the devout +and charitable Berry. "Marriages is made in heaven, they say; and if +that's the case, I say they don't take much account of us below!" + +Her own woful experiences had been given to the hero in exchange for +his story of cruel parents. + +Richard vowed to her that he would henceforth hold it a duty to hunt +out the wanderer from wedded bonds, and bring him back bound and +suppliant. + +"Oh, he'll come!" said Mrs. Berry, pursing prophetic wrinkles: +"he'll come of his own accord. Never anywheres will he meet such a +cook as Bessy Berry! And he know her value in his heart of hearts. +And I do believe, when he do come, I shall be opening these arms to +him again, and not slapping his impidence in the face--I'm that +soft! I always was--in matrimony, Mr. Richards!" + +As when nations are secretly preparing for war, the docks and +arsenals hammer night and day, and busy contractors measure time by +inches, and the air hums around for leagues as it were myriads of +bees, so the house and neighbourhood of the matrimonial soft one +resounded in the heroic style, and knew little of the changes of +light decreed by Creation. Mrs. Berry was the general of the hour. +Down to Doctors' Commons she expedited the hero, instructing him how +boldly to face the Law, and fib: for that the Law never could resist +a fib and a bold face. Down the hero went, and proclaimed his +presence. And lo! the Law danced to him its sedatest lovely +bear's-dance. Think ye the Law less susceptible to him than flesh +and blood? With a beautiful confidence it put the few familiar +questions to him, and nodded to his replies: then stamped the bond, +and took the fee. It must be an old vagabond at heart that can +permit the irrevocable to go so cheap, even to a hero. For only mark +him when he is petitioned by heroes and heroines to undo what he +does so easily! That small archway of Doctors' Commons seems the eye +of a needle, through which the lean purse has a way, somehow, of +slipping more readily than the portly; but once through, all are +camels alike, the lean purse an especially big camel. Dispensing +tremendous marriage as it does, the Law can have no conscience. + +"I hadn't the slightest difficulty," said the exulting hero. + +"Of course not!" returns Mrs. Berry. "It's as easy, if ye're in +earnest, as buying a plum bun." + +Likewise the ambassador of the hero went to claim the promise of the +Church to be in attendance on a certain spot, on a certain day, and +there hear oath of eternal fealty, and gird him about with all its +forces: which the Church, receiving a wink from the Law, +obsequiously engaged to do, for less than the price of a plum-cake. + +Meantime, while craftsmen and skilled women, directed by Mrs. Berry, +were toiling to deck the day at hand, Raynham and Belthorpe +slept,--the former soundly; and one day was as another to them. +Regularly every morning a letter arrived from Richard to his father, +containing observations on the phenomena of London; remarks (mainly +cynical) on the speeches and acts of Parliament; and reasons for not +having yet been able to call on the Grandisons. They were certainly +rather monotonous and spiritless. The baronet did not complain. That +cold dutiful tone assured him there was no internal trouble or +distraction. "The letters of a healthful physique!" he said to Lady +Blandish, with sure insight. Complacently he sat and smiled, little +witting that his son's ordeal was imminent, and that his son's +ordeal was to be his own. Hippias wrote that his nephew was killing +him by making appointments which he never kept, and altogether +neglecting him in the most shameless way, so that his ganglionic +centre was in a ten times worse state than when he left Raynham. He +wrote very bitterly, but it was hard to feel compassion for his +offended stomach. + +On the other hand, young Tom Blaize was not forthcoming, and had +despatched no tidings whatever. Farmer Blaize smoked his pipe +evening after evening, vastly disturbed. London was a large +place--young Tom might be lost in it, he thought; and young Tom had +his weaknesses. A wolf at Belthorpe, he was likely to be a sheep in +London, as yokels have proved. But what had become of Lucy? This +consideration almost sent Farmer Blaize off to London direct, and +he would have gone had not his pipe enlightened him. A young fellow +might play truant and get into a scrape, but a young man and a young +woman were sure to be heard of, _unless_ they were acting in +complicity. Why, of course, young Tom had behaved like a man, the +rascal! and married her outright there, while he had the chance. It +was a long guess. Still it was the only reasonable way of accounting +for his extraordinary silence, and therefore the farmer held to it +that he had done the deed. He argued as modern men do who think the +hero, the upsetter of ordinary calculations, is gone from us. So, +after despatching a letter to a friend in town to be on the outlook +for son Tom, he continued awhile to smoke his pipe, rather elated +than not, and mused on the shrewd manner he should adopt when Master +Honeymoon did appear. + +Toward the middle of the second week of Richard's absence, Tom +Bakewell came to Raynham for Cassandra, and privately handed a +letter to the Eighteenth Century, containing a request for money, +and a round sum. The Eighteenth Century was as good as her word, and +gave Tom a letter in return, enclosing a cheque on her bankers, +amply providing to keep the heroic engine in motion at a moderate +pace. Tom went back, and Raynham and Lobourne slept and dreamed not +of the morrow. The System, wedded to Time, slept, and knew not how +he had been outraged--anticipated by seven pregnant seasons. For +Time had heard the hero swear to that legalizing instrument, and had +also registered an oath. Ah me! venerable Hebrew Time! he is +unforgiving. Half the confusion and fever of the world comes of this +vendetta he declares against the hapless innocents who have once +done him a wrong. They cannot escape him. They will never outlive +it. The father of jokes, he is himself no joke; which it seems the +business of men to discover. + +The days roll round. He is their servant now. Mrs. Berry has a new +satin gown, a beautiful bonnet, a gold brooch, and sweet gloves, +presented to her by the hero, wherein to stand by his bride at the +altar to-morrow; and, instead of being an old wary hen, she is as +much a chicken as any of the party, such has been the magic of these +articles. Fathers she sees accepting the facts produced for them by +their children; a world content to be carved out as it pleases the +hero. + +At last Time brings the bridal eve, and is blest as a benefactor. +The final arrangements are made; the bridegroom does depart; and +Mrs. Berry lights the little bride to her bed. Lucy stops on the +landing where there is an old clock eccentrically correct that +night. 'Tis the palpitating pause before the gates of her +transfiguration. Mrs. Berry sees her put her rosy finger on the ONE +about to strike, and touch all the hours successively till she comes +to the TWELVE that shall sound "Wife" in her ears on the morrow, +moving her lips the while, and looking round archly solemn when she +has done; and that sight so catches at Mrs. Berry's heart that, not +guessing Time to be the poor child's enemy, she endangers her candle +by folding Lucy warmly in her arms, whimpering, "Bless you for a +darling! you innocent lamb! You shall be happy! You shall!" + +Old Time gazes grimly ahead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +IN WHICH THE LAST ACT OF A COMEDY TAKES THE PLACE OF THE FIRST + + +Although it blew hard when Caesar crossed the Rubicon, the passage of +that river is commonly calm; calm as Acheron. So long as he gets his +fare, the ferryman does not need to be told whom he carries: he +pulls with a will, and heroes may be over in half-an-hour. Only when +they stand on the opposite bank, do they see what a leap they have +taken. The shores they have relinquished shrink to an infinite +remoteness. There they have dreamed: here they must act. There lie +youth and irresolution: here manhood and purpose. They are veritably +in another land: a moral Acheron divides their life. Their memories +scarce seem their own! The PHILOSOPHICAL GEOGRAPHY (about to be +published) observes that each man has, one time or other, a little +Rubicon--a clear or a foul water to cross. It is asked him: "Wilt +thou wed this Fate, and give up all behind thee?" And "I will," +firmly pronounced, speeds him over. The above-named manuscript +authority informs us, that by far the greater number of carcases +rolled by this heroic flood to its sister stream below, are those of +fellows who have repented their pledge, and have tried to swim back +to the bank they have blotted out. For though every man of us may be +a hero for one fatal minute, very few remain so after a day's march +even: and who wonders that Madam Fate is indignant, and wears the +features of the terrible Universal Fate to him? Fail before her, +either in heart or in act, and lo, how the alluring loves in her +visage wither and sicken to what it is modelled on! Be your Rubicon +big or small, clear or foul, it is the same: you shall not return. +On--or to Acheron!--I subscribe to that saying of THE PILGRIM'S +SCRIP: + +"The danger of a little knowledge of things is disputable: _but +beware the little knowledge of one's self!_" + +Richard Feverel was now crossing the River of his Ordeal. Already +the mists were stealing over the land he had left: his life was cut +in two, and he breathed but the air that met his nostrils. His +father, his father's love, his boyhood and ambition, were shadowy. +His poetic dreams had taken a living attainable shape. He had a +distincter impression of the Autumnal Berry and her household than +of anything at Raynham. And yet the young man loved his father, +loved his home: and I daresay Caesar loved Rome: but whether he did +or no, Caesar when he killed the Republic was quite bald, and the +hero we are dealing with is scarce beginning to feel his despotic +moustache. Did he know what he was made of? Doubtless, nothing at +all. But honest passion has an instinct that can be safer than +conscious wisdom. He was an arrow drawn to the head, flying to the +bow. His audacious mendacities and subterfuges did not strike him as +in any way criminal; for he was perfectly sure that the winning and +securing of Lucy would in the end be boisterously approved of, and +in that case, were not the means justified? Not that he took trouble +to argue thus, as older heroes and self-convicting villains are in +the habit of doing, to deduce a clear conscience. Conscience and +Lucy went together. + +It was a soft fair day. The Rubicon sparkled in the morning sun. One +of those days when London embraces the prospect of summer, and +troops forth all its babies. The pavement, the squares, the parks, +were early alive with the cries of young Britain. Violet and +primrose girls, and organ boys with military monkeys, and systematic +bands very determined in tone if not in tune, filled the atmosphere, +and crowned the blazing procession of omnibuses, freighted with +business men, Cityward, where a column of reddish brown +smoke,--blown aloft by the South-west, marked the scene of conflict +to which these persistent warriors repaired. Richard had seen much +of early London that morning. His plans were laid. He had taken care +to ensure his personal liberty against accidents, by leaving his +hotel and his injured uncle Hippias at sunrise. To-day or to-morrow +his father was to arrive. Farmer Blaize, Tom Bakewell reported to +him, was raging in town. Another day and she might be torn from him: +but to-day this miracle of creation would be his, and then from +those glittering banks yonder, let them summon him to surrender her +who dared! The position of things looked so propitious that he +naturally thought the powers waiting on love conspired in his +behalf. And she, too--since she must cross this river, she had sworn +to him to be brave, and do him honour, and wear the true gladness of +her heart in her face. Without a suspicion of folly in his acts, or +fear of results, Richard strolled into Kensington Gardens, +breakfasting on the foreshadow of his great joy, now with a vision +of his bride, now of the new life opening to him. Mountain masses of +clouds, rounded in sunlight, swung up the blue. The flowering +chestnut pavilions overhead rustled and hummed. A sound in his ears +as of a banner unfolding in the joyful distance lulled him. + +He was to meet his bride at the church at a quarter past eleven. His +watch said a quarter to ten. He strolled on beneath the long-stemmed +trees toward the well dedicated to a saint obscure. Some people were +drinking at the well. A florid lady stood by a younger one, who had +a little silver mug half-way to her mouth, and evinced undisguised +dislike to the liquor of the salutary saint. + +"Drink, child!" said the maturer lady. "That is only your second +mug. I insist upon your drinking three full ones every morning we're +in town. Your constitution positively requires iron!" + +"But, mama," the other expostulated, "it's so nasty. I shall be +sick." + +"Drink!" was the harsh injunction. "Nothing to the German waters, my +dear. Here, let me taste." She took the mug and gave it a flying +kiss. "I declare I think it almost nice--not at all objectionable. +Pray, taste it," she said to a gentleman standing below them to act +as cup-bearer. + +An unmistakable cis-Rubicon voice replied: "Certainly, if it's good +fellowship; though I confess I don't think mutual sickness a very +engaging ceremony." + +Can one never escape from one's relatives? Richard ejaculated +inwardly. + +Without a doubt those people were Mrs. Doria, Clare, and Adrian. He +had them under his eyes. + +Clare, peeping up from her constitutional dose to make sure no man +was near to see the possible consequence of it, was the first to +perceive him. Her hand dropped. + +"Now, pray, drink, and do not fuss!" said Mrs. Doria. + +"Mama!" Clare gasped. + +Richard came forward and capitulated honourably, since retreat was +out of the question. Mrs. Doria swam to meet him: "My own boy! My +dear Richard!" profuse of exclamations. Clare shyly greeted him. +Adrian kept in the background. + +"Why, we were coming for you to-day, Richard," said Mrs. Doria, +smiling effusion; and rattled on, "We want another cavalier. This is +delightful! My dear nephew! You have grown from a boy to a man. And +there's down on his lip! And what brings you here at such an hour in +the morning? Poetry, I suppose! Here, take my arm, child.--Clare! +finish that mug and thank your cousin for sparing you the third. I +always bring her, when we are by a chalybeate, to take the waters +before breakfast. We have to get up at unearthly hours. Think, my +dear boy! Mothers are sacrifices! And so you've been alone a +fortnight with your agreeable uncle! A charming time of it you must +have had! Poor Hippias! what may be his last nostrum?" + +"Nephew!" Adrian stretched his head round to the couple. "Doses of +nephew taken morning and night fourteen days! And he guarantees that +it shall destroy an iron constitution in a month." + +Richard mechanically shook Adrian's hand as he spoke. + +"Quite well, Ricky?" + +"Yes: well enough," Richard answered. + +"Well?" resumed his vigorous aunt, walking on with him, while Clare +and Adrian followed. "I really never saw you looking so handsome. +There's something about your face--look at me--you needn't blush. +You've grown to an Apollo. That blue buttoned-up frock coat becomes +you admirably--and those gloves, and that easy neck-tie. Your style +is irreproachable, quite a style of your own! And nothing eccentric. +You have the instinct of dress. Dress shows blood, my dear boy, as +much as anything else. Boy!--you see, I can't forget old habits. You +were a boy when I left, and now!--Do you see any change in him, +Clare?" she turned half round to her daughter. + +"Richard is looking very well, mama," said Clare, glancing at him +under her eyelids. + +"I wish I could say the same of you, my dear.--Take my arm, Richard. +Are you afraid of your aunt? I want to get used to you. Won't it be +pleasant, our being all in town together in the season? How fresh +the Opera will be to you! Austin, I hear, takes stalls. You can come +to the Forey's box when you like. We are staying with the Foreys +close by here. I think it's a little too far out, you know; but they +like the neighbourhood. This is what I have always said: Give him +more liberty! Austin has seen it at last. How do you think Clare +looking?" + +The question had to be repeated. Richard surveyed his cousin +hastily, and praised her looks. + +"Pale!" Mrs. Doria sighed. + +"Rather pale, aunt." + +"Grown very much--don't you think, Richard?" + +"Very tall girl indeed, aunt." + +"If she had but a little more colour, my dear Richard! I'm sure I +give her all the iron she can swallow, but that pallor still +continues. I think she does not prosper away from her old +companion. She was accustomed to look up to you, Richard"---- + +"Did you get Ralph's letter, aunt?" Richard interrupted her. + +"Absurd!" Mrs. Doria pressed his arm. "The nonsense of a boy! Why +did you undertake to forward such stuff?" + +"I'm certain he loves her," said Richard, in a serious way. + +The maternal eyes narrowed on him. "Life, my dear Richard, is a game +of cross-purposes," she observed, dropping her fluency, and was +rather angered to hear him laugh. He excused himself by saying that +she spoke so like his father. + +"You breakfast with us," she freshened off again. "The Foreys wish +to see you; the girls are dying to know you. Do you know, you have a +reputation on account of that"--she crushed an intruding +adjective--"System you were brought up on. You mustn't mind it. For +my part, I think you look a credit to it. Don't be bashful with +young women, mind! As much as you please with the old ones. You know +how to behave among men. There you have your Drawing-room Guide! I'm +sure I shall be proud of you. Am I not?" + +Mrs. Doria addressed his eyes coaxingly. + +A benevolent idea struck Richard, that he might employ the minutes +to spare, in pleading the case of poor Ralph; and, as he was drawn +along, he pulled out his watch to note the precise number of minutes +he could dedicate to this charitable office. + +"Pardon me," said Mrs. Doria. "You want manners, my dear boy. I +think it never happened to me before that a man consulted his watch +in my presence." + +Richard mildly replied that he had an engagement at a particular +hour, up to which he was her servant. + +"Fiddlededee!" the vivacious lady sang. "Now I've got you, I mean to +keep you. Oh! I've heard all about you. This ridiculous indifference +that your father makes so much of! Why, of course, you wanted to see +the world! A strong, healthy young man shut up all his life in a +lonely house--no friends, no society, no amusements but those of +rustics! Of course you were indifferent! Your intelligence and +superior mind alone saved you from becoming a dissipated country +boor.--Where are the others?" + +Clare and Adrian came up at a quick pace. + +"My damozel dropped something," Adrian explained. + +Her mother asked what it was. + +"Nothing, mama," said Clare, demurely, and they proceeded as before. + +Overborne by his aunt's fluency of tongue, and occupied in acute +calculation of the flying minutes, Richard let many pass before he +edged in a word for Ralph. When he did, Mrs. Doria stopped him +immediately. + +"I must tell you, child, that I refuse to listen to such rank +idiotcy." + +"It's nothing of the kind, aunt." + +"The fancy of a boy." + +"He's not a boy. He's half-a-year older than I am!" + +"You silly child! The moment you fall in love, you all think +yourselves men." + +"On my honour, aunt! I believe he loves her thoroughly." + +"Did he tell you so, child?" + +"Men don't speak openly of those things," said Richard. + +"Boys do," said Mrs. Doria. + +"But listen to me in earnest, aunt. I want you to be kind to Ralph. +Don't drive him to--You may be sorry for it. Let him--do let him +write to her, and see her. I believe women are as cruel as men in +these things." + +"I never encourage absurdity, Richard." + +"What objection have you to Ralph, aunt?" + +"Oh, they're both good families. It's not that absurdity, Richard. +It will be to his credit to remember that his first fancy wasn't a +dairymaid." Mrs. Doria pitched her accent tellingly. It did not +touch her nephew. + +"Don't you want Clare ever to marry?" He put the last point of +reason to her. + +Mrs. Doria laughed. "I hope so, child. We must find some comfortable +old gentleman for her." + +"What infamy!" mutters Richard. + +"And I engage Ralph shall be ready to dance at her wedding, or eat a +hearty breakfast--We don't dance at weddings now, and very properly. +It's a horrid sad business, not to be treated with levity.--Is that +his regiment?" she said, as they passed out of the hussar-sentinelled +gardens. "Tush, tush, child; Master Ralph will recover, as--hem! +others have done. A little headache--you call it heartache--and up +you rise again, looking better than ever. No doubt, to have a grain +of sense forced into your brains, you poor dear children! must be +painful. Girls suffer as much as boys, I assure you. More, for their +heads are weaker, and their appetites less constant. Do I talk like +your father now? Whatever makes the boy fidget at his watch so?" + +Richard stopped short. Time spoke urgently. + +"I must go," he said. + +His face did not seem good for trifling. Mrs. Doria would trifle in +spite. + +"Listen, Clare! Richard is going. He says he has an engagement. What +possible engagement can a young man have at eleven o'clock in the +morning?--unless it's to be married!" Mrs. Doria laughed at the +ingenuity of her suggestion. + +"Is the church handy, Ricky?" said Adrian. "You can still give us +half-an-hour if it is. The celibate hours strike at Twelve." And he +also laughed in his fashion. + +"Won't you stay with us, Richard?" Clare asked. She blushed timidly, +and her voice shook. + +Something indefinite--a sharp-edged thrill in the tones made the +burning bridegroom speak gently to her. + +"Indeed, I would, Clare; I should like to please you, but I have a +most imperative appointment--that is, I promised--I must go. I shall +see you again"---- + +Mrs. Doria took forcible possession of him. "Now, do come, and don't +waste words. I insist upon your having some breakfast first, and +then, if you really must go, you shall. Look! there's the house. At +least you will accompany your aunt to the door." + +Richard conceded this. She little imagined what she required of him. +Two of his golden minutes melted into nothingness. They were growing +to be jewels of price, one by one more and more precious as they +ran, and now so costly-rare--rich as his blood! not to kindest +relations, dearest friends, could he give another. The die is cast! +Ferryman! push off. + +"Good-bye!" he cried, nodding bluffly at the three as one, and fled. + +They watched his abrupt muscular stride through the grounds of the +house. He looked like resolution on the march. Mrs. Doria, as usual +with her out of her brother's hearing, began rating the System. + +"See what becomes of that nonsensical education! The boy really does +not know how to behave like a common mortal. He has some paltry +appointment, or is mad after some ridiculous idea of his own, and +everything must be sacrificed to it! That's what Austin calls +concentration of the faculties. I think it's more likely to lead to +downright insanity than to greatness of any kind. And so I shall +tell Austin. It's time he should be spoken to seriously about him." + +"He's an engine, my dear aunt," said Adrian. "He isn't a boy, or a +man, but an engine. And he appears to have been at high pressure +since he came to town--out all day and half the night." + +"He's mad!" Mrs. Doria interjected. + +"Not at all. Extremely shrewd is Master Ricky, and carries as open +an eye ahead of him as the ships before Troy. He's more than a match +for any of us. He is for me, I confess." + +"Then," said Mrs. Doria, "he does astonish me!" + +Adrian begged her to retain her astonishment till the right season, +which would not be long arriving. + +Their common wisdom counselled them not to tell the Foreys of their +hopeful relative's ungracious behaviour. Clare had left them. When +Mrs. Doria went to her room her daughter was there, gazing down at +something in her hand, which she guiltily closed. + +In answer to an inquiry why she had not gone to take off her things, +Clare said she was not hungry. Mrs. Doria lamented the obstinacy of +a constitution that no quantity of iron could affect, and eclipsed +the looking-glass, saying: "Take them off here, child, and learn to +assist yourself." + +She disentangled her bonnet from the array of her spreading hair, +talking of Richard, and his handsome appearance, and extraordinary +conduct. Clare kept opening and shutting her hand, in an attitude +half pensive, half-listless. She did not stir to undress. A joyous +dimple hung in one pale cheek, and she drew long, even breaths. + +Mrs. Doria, assured by the glass that she was ready to show, came to +her daughter. + +"Now, really," she said, "you are too helpless, my dear. You cannot +do a thing without a dozen women at your elbow. What will become of +you? You will have to marry a millionaire.--What's the matter with +you, child?" + +Clare undid her tight-shut fingers, as if to some attraction of her +eyes, and displayed a small gold hoop on the palm of a green glove. + +"A wedding-ring!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria, inspecting the curiosity +most daintily. + +There on Clare's pale green glove lay a wedding-ring! + +Rapid questions as to where, when, how, it was found, beset Clare, +who replied: "In the Gardens, mama. This morning. When I was walking +behind Richard." + +"Are you sure he did not give it you, Clare?" + +"Oh no, mama! he did not give it me!" + +"Of course not! only he does such absurd things! I thought, +perhaps--these boys are so exceedingly ridiculous!" Mrs. Doria had +an idea that it might have been concerted between the two young +gentlemen, Richard and Ralph, that the former should present this +token of hymeneal devotion from the latter to the young lady of his +love; but a moment's reflection, exonerated boys even from such +preposterous behaviour. + +"Now, I wonder," she speculated on Clare's cold face, "I do wonder +whether it's lucky to find a wedding-ring. What very quick eyes you +have, my darling!" Mrs. Doria kissed her. She thought it must be +lucky, and the circumstance made her feel tender to her child. Her +child did not move to the kiss. + +"Let's see whether it fits," said Mrs. Doria, almost infantine with +surprise and pleasure. + +Clare suffered her glove to be drawn off. The ring slid down her +long thin finger, and settled comfortably. + +"It does!" Mrs. Doria whispered. To find a wedding-ring is open to +any woman; but to find a wedding-ring that fits may well cause a +superstitious emotion. Moreover, that it should be found while +walking in the neighbourhood of the identical youth whom a mother +has destined for her daughter, gives significance to the gentle +perturbation of ideas consequent on such a hint from Fortune. + +"It really fits!" she pursued. "Now I never pay any attention to the +nonsense of omens and that kind of thing" (had the ring been a +horseshoe Mrs. Doria would have picked it up and dragged it +obediently home), "but this, I must say, is odd--to find a ring that +fits!--singular! It never happened to me. Sixpence is the most I +ever discovered, and I have it now. Mind you keep it, Clare--this +ring. And," she laughed, "offer it to Richard when he comes; say, +you think he must have dropped it." + +The dimple in Clare's cheek quivered. + +Mother and daughter had never spoken explicitly of Richard. Mrs. +Doria, by exquisite management, had contrived to be sure that on one +side there would be no obstacle to her project of general happiness, +without, as she thought, compromising her daughter's feelings +unnecessarily. It could do no harm to an obedient young girl to hear +that there was no youth in the world like a certain youth. He the +prince of his generation, she might softly consent, when requested, +to be his princess; and if never requested (for Mrs. Doria envisaged +failure), she might easily transfer her softness to squires of lower +degree. Clare had always been blindly obedient to her mother (Adrian +called them Mrs. Doria Battledoria and the fair Shuttlecockiana), +and her mother accepted in this blind obedience the text of her +entire character. It is difficult for those who think very earnestly +for their children to know when their children are thinking on their +own account. The exercise of their volition we construe as revolt. +Our love does not like to be invalided and deposed from its command, +and here I think yonder old thrush on the lawn who has just kicked +the last of her lank offspring out of the nest to go shift for +itself, much the kinder of the two, though sentimental people do +shrug their shoulders at these unsentimental acts of the creatures +who never wander from nature. Now, excess of obedience is, to one +who manages most exquisitely, as bad as insurrection. Happily Mrs. +Doria saw nothing in her daughter's manner save a want of iron. Her +pallor, her lassitude, the tremulous nerves in her face, exhibited +an imperious requirement of the mineral. + +"The reason why men and women are mysterious to us, and prove +disappointing," we learn from THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "is, that we will +read them from our own book; just as we are perplexed by reading +ourselves from theirs." + +Mrs. Doria read her daughter from her own book, and she was gay; she +laughed with Adrian at the breakfast-table, and mock-seriously +joined in his jocose assertion that Clare was positively and by all +hymeneal auspices betrothed to the owner of that ring, be he who he +may, and must, whenever he should choose to come and claim her, give +her hand to him (for everybody agreed the owner must be masculine, +as no _woman_ would drop a wedding-ring), and follow him whither he +listed all the world over. Amiable giggling Forey girls called +Clare, The Betrothed. Dark man, or fair? was mooted. Adrian threw +off the first strophe of Clare's fortune in burlesque rhymes, with +an insinuating gipsy twang. Her aunt Forey warned her to have her +dresses in readiness. Her grandpapa Forey pretended to grumble at +bridal presents being expected from grandpapas. This one smelt +orange-flower, another spoke solemnly of an old shoe. The finding of +a wedding-ring was celebrated through all the palpitating +accessories and rosy ceremonies involved by that famous instrument. +In the midst of the general hilarity, Clare showed her deplorable +want of iron by bursting into tears. + +Did the poor mocked-at heart divine what might be then enacting? +Perhaps, dimly, as we say: that is, without eyes. + +At an altar stand two fair young creatures, ready with their oaths. +They are asked to fix all time to the moment, and they do so. If +there is hesitation at the immense undertaking, it is but maidenly. +She conceives as little mental doubt of the sanity of the act as he. +Over them hangs a cool young curate in his raiment of office. Behind +are two apparently lucid people, distinguished from each other by +sex and age; the foremost a bunch of simmering black satin; under +her shadow a cock-robin in the dress of a gentleman, big joy +swelling out his chest, and pert satisfaction cocking his head. +These be they who stand here in place of parents to the young +couple. All is well. The service proceeds. + +Firmly the bridegroom tells forth his words. This hour of the +complacent giant at least is his, and that he means to hold him +bound through the eternities, men may hear. Clearly, and with brave +modesty, speaks she: no less firmly, though her body trembles: her +voice just vibrating while the tone travels on, like a smitten vase. + +Time hears sentence pronounced on him: the frail hands bind his huge +limbs and lock the chains. He is used to it: he lets them do as they +will. + +Then comes that period when they are to give their troth to each +other. The Man with his right hand takes the Woman by her right +hand: the Woman with her right hand takes the Man by his right +hand.--Devils dare not laugh at whom Angels crowd to contemplate. + +Their hands are joined; their blood flows as one stream. Adam and +fair Eve front the generations. Are they not lovely? Purer fountains +of life were never in two bosoms. + +And then they loose their hands, and the cool curate doth bid the +Man to put a ring on the Woman's fourth finger, counting thumb. And +the Man thrusts his hand into one pocket, and into another, forward +and back many times: into all his pockets. He remembers that he felt +for it, and felt it in his waistcoat pocket, when in the Gardens. +And his hand comes forth empty. And the Man is ghastly to look at! + +Yet, though Angels smile, shall not Devils laugh! The curate +deliberates. The black satin bunch ceases to simmer. He in her +shadow changes from a beaming cock-robin to an inquisitive sparrow. +Eyes multiply questions: lips have no reply. Time ominously shakes +his chain, and in the pause a sound of mockery stings their ears. + +Think ye a hero is one to be defeated in his first battle? Look at +the clock! there are but seven minutes to the stroke of the celibate +hours: the veteran is surely lifting his two hands to deliver fire, +and his shot will sunder them in twain so nearly united. All the +jewellers of London speeding down with sacks full of the nuptial +circlet cannot save them! + +The battle must be won on the field, and what does the hero now? It +is an inspiration! For who else would dream of such a reserve in +the rear? None see what he does; only that the black-satin bunch is +remonstratingly agitated, stormily shaken, and subdued: and as +though the menacing cloud had opened, and dropped the dear token +from the skies at his demand, he produces the symbol of their +consent, and the service proceeds: "With this ring I thee wed." + +They are prayed over and blest. For good, or for ill, this deed is +done. The names are registered; fees fly right and left: they thank, +and salute, the curate, whose official coolness melts into a smile +of monastic gallantry: the beadle on the steps waves off a gaping +world as they issue forth: bridegroom and bridesman recklessly +scatter gold on him: carriage doors are banged to: the coachmen +drive off, and the scene closes, everybody happy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +CELEBRATES THE BREAKFAST + + +And the next moment the bride is weeping as if she would dissolve to +one of Dian's Virgin Fountains from the clasp of the Sun-God. She +has nobly preserved the mask imposed by comedies, till the curtain +has fallen, and now she weeps, streams with tears. Have patience, O +impetuous young man! It is your profession to be a hero. This poor +heart is new to it, and her duties involve such wild acts, such +brigandage, such terrors and tasks, she is quite unnerved. She did +you honour till now. Bear with her now. She does not cry the cry of +ordinary maidens in like cases. While the struggle went on her +tender face was brave; but alas! Omens are against her: she holds an +ever-present dreadful one on that fatal fourth finger of hers, which +has coiled itself round her dream of delight, and takes her in its +clutch like a horrid serpent. And yet she must love it. She dares +not part from it. She must love and hug it, and feed on its strange +honey, and all the bliss it gives her casts all the deeper shadow on +what is to come. + +Say: Is it not enough to cause feminine apprehension, for a woman to +be married in another woman's ring? + +You are amazons, ladies, at Saragossa, and a thousand +citadels--wherever there is strife, and Time is to be taken by the +throat. Then shall few men match your sublime fury. But what if you +see a vulture, visible only to yourselves, hovering over the house +you are gaily led by the torch to inhabit? Will you not crouch and +be cowards? + +As for the hero, in the hour of victory he pays no heed to omens. He +does his best to win his darling to confidence by caresses. Is she +not his? Is he not hers? And why, when the battle is won, does she +weep? Does she regret what she has done? + +Oh, never! never! her soft blue eyes assure him, steadfast love seen +swimming on clear depths of faith in them, through the shower. + +He is silenced by her exceeding beauty, and sits perplexed waiting +for the shower to pass. + +Alone with Mrs. Berry, in her bedroom, Lucy gave tongue to her +distress, and a second character in the comedy changed her face. + +"O Mrs. Berry! Mrs. Berry! what has happened! what has happened!" + +"My darlin' child!" The bridal Berry gazed at the finger of doleful +joy. "I'd forgot all about it! And that's what've made me feel so +queer ever since, then! I've been seemin' as if I wasn't myself +somehow, without my ring. Dear! dear! what a wilful young gentleman! +We ain't a match for men in that state--Lord help us!" + +Mrs. Berry sat on the edge of a chair: Lucy on the edge of the bed. + +"What do you think of it, Mrs. Berry? Is it not terrible?" + +"I can't say I should'a liked it myself, my dear," Mrs. Berry +candidly responded. + +"Oh! why, why, why did it happen!" the young bride bent to a flood +of fresh tears, murmuring that she felt already old--forsaken. + +"Haven't you got a comfort in your religion for all accidents?" Mrs. +Berry inquired. + +"None for this. I know it's wrong to cry when I am so happy. I hope +he will forgive me." + +Mrs. Berry vowed her bride was the sweetest, softest, beautifulest +thing in life. + +"I'll cry no more," said Lucy. "Leave me, Mrs. Berry, and come back +when I ring." + +She drew forth a little silver cross, and fell upon her knees to the +bed. Mrs. Berry left the room tiptoe. + +When she was called to return, Lucy was calm and tearless, and +smiled kindly to her. + +"It's over now," she said. + +Mrs. Berry sedately looked for her ring to follow. + +"He does not wish me to go in to the breakfast you have prepared, +Mrs. Berry. I begged to be excused. I cannot eat." + +Mrs. Berry very much deplored it, as she had laid out a superior +nuptial breakfast, but with her mind on her ring she nodded +assentingly. + +"We shall not have much packing to do, Mrs. Berry." + +"No, my dear. It's pretty well all done." + +"We are going to the Isle of Wight, Mrs. Berry." + +"And a very suitable spot ye've chose, my dear!" + +"He loves the sea. He wishes to be near it." + +"Don't ye cross to-night, if it's anyways rough, my dear. It isn't +advisable." Mrs. Berry sank her voice to say, "Don't ye be soft and +give way to him there, or you'll both be repenting it." + +Lucy had only been staving off the unpleasantness she had to speak. +She saw Mrs. Berry's eyes pursuing her ring, and screwed up her +courage at last. + +"Mrs. Berry." + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Mrs. Berry, you shall have another ring." + +"Another, my dear?" Berry did not comprehend. "One's quite enough +for the objeck," she remarked. + +"I mean," Lucy touched her fourth finger, "I cannot part with this." +She looked straight at Mrs. Berry. + +That bewildered creature gazed at her, and at the ring, till she had +thoroughly exhausted the meaning of the words, and then exclaimed, +horror-struck: "Deary me, now! you don't say that? You're to be +married again in your own religion." + +The young wife repeated: "I can never part with it." + +"But, my dear!" the wretched Berry wrung her hands, divided between +compassion and a sense of injury. "My dear!" she kept expostulating +like a mute. + +"I know all that you would say, Mrs. Berry. I am very grieved to +pain you. It is mine now, and must be mine. I cannot give it back." + +There she sat, suddenly developed to the most inflexible little +heroine in the three Kingdoms. + +From her first perception of the meaning of the young bride's words, +Mrs. Berry, a shrewd physiognomist, knew that her case was hopeless, +unless she treated her as she herself had been treated, and seized +the ring by force of arms; and that she had not heart for. + +"What!" she gasped faintly, "one's own lawful wedding-ring you +wouldn't give back to a body?" + +"Because it is mine, Mrs. Berry. It was yours, but it is mine now. +You shall have whatever you ask for but that. Pray, forgive me! It +must be so." + +Mrs. Berry rocked on her chair, and sounded her hands together. It +amazed her that this soft little creature could be thus firm. She +tried argument. + +"Don't ye know, my dear, it's the fatalest thing you're inflictin' +upon me, reelly! Don't ye know that bein' bereft of one's own lawful +wedding-ring's the fatalest thing in life, and there's no prosperity +after it! For what stands in place o' that, when that's gone, my +dear? And what _could_ ye give me to compensate a body for the loss +o' that! Don't ye know--Oh, deary me!" The little bride's face was +so set that poor Berry wailed off in despair. + +"I know it," said Lucy. "I know it all. I know what I do to you. +Dear, dear Mrs. Berry! forgive me! If I parted with my ring I know +it would be fatal." + +So this fair young freebooter took possession of her argument as +well as her ring. + +Berry racked her distracted wits for a further appeal. + +"But, my child," she counterargued, "you don't understand. It ain't +as you think. It ain't a hurt to you now. Not a bit, it ain't. It +makes no difference now! Any ring does while the wearer's a maid. +And your Mr. Richard'll find the very ring he intended for ye. And, +of course, that's the one you'll wear as his wife. It's all the same +now, my dear. It's no shame to a maid. Now do--now do--there's a +darlin'!" + +Wheedling availed as little as argument. + +"Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, "you know what my--he spoke: 'With this +ring I thee wed.' It was with _this_ ring. Then how could it be with +another?" + +Berry was constrained despondently to acknowledge that was logic. + +She hit upon an artful conjecture: + +"Won't it be unlucky your wearin' of the ring which served me so? +Think o' that!" + +"It may! it may! it may!" cried Lucy. + +"And arn't you rushin' into it, my dear?" + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy said again, "it was this ring. It cannot--it +never can be another. It was this. What it brings me I must bear. I +shall wear it till I die!" + +"Then what am _I_ to do?" the ill-used woman groaned. "What shall I +tell my husband when he come back to me, and see I've got a new ring +waitin' for him? Won't that be a welcome?" + +Quoth Lucy: "How can he know it is not the same, in a plain gold +ring?" + +"You never see so keen a eyed man in joolry as my Berry!" returned +his solitary spouse. "Not know, my dear? Why, any one would know +that 've got eyes in his head. There's as much difference in +wedding-rings as there's in wedding people! Now, do pray be +reasonable, my own sweet!" + +"Pray, do not ask me," pleads Lucy. + +"Pray, do think better of it," urges Berry. + +"Pray, pray, Mrs. Berry!" pleads Lucy. + +"--And not leave your old Berry all forlorn just when you're so +happy!" + +"Indeed I would not, you dear, kind old creature!" Lucy faltered. + +Mrs. Berry thought she had her. + +"Just when you're going to be the happiest wife on earth--all you +want yours!" she pursued the tender strain. "A handsome young +gentleman! Love and Fortune smilin' on ye!"---- + +Lucy rose up. + +"Mrs. Berry," she said, "I think we must not lose time in getting +ready, or he will be impatient." + +Poor Berry surveyed her in abject wonder from the edge of her +chair. Dignity and resolve were in the ductile form she had hitherto +folded under her wing. In an hour the heroine had risen to the +measure of the hero. Without being exactly aware what creature she +was dealing with, Berry acknowledged to herself it was not one of +the common run, and sighed, and submitted. + +"It's like a divorce, that it is!" she sobbed. + +After putting the corners of her apron to her eyes, Berry bustled +humbly about the packing. Then Lucy, whose heart was full to her, +came and kissed her, and Berry bumped down and regularly cried. This +over, she had recourse to fatalism. + +"I suppose it was to be, my dear! It's my punishment for meddlin' +wi' such matters. No, I'm not sorry. Bless ye both. Who'd 'a thought +you was so wilful?--you that any one might have taken for one of the +silly-softs! You're a pair, my dear! indeed you are! You was made to +meet! But we mustn't show him we've been crying.--Men don't like it +when they're happy. Let's wash our faces and try to bear our lot." + +So saying the black-satin bunch careened to a renewed deluge. She +deserved some sympathy, for if it is sad to be married in another +person's ring, how much sadder to have one's own old accustomed +lawful ring violently torn off one's finger and eternally severed +from one! But where you have heroes and heroines, these terrible +complications ensue. + +They had now both fought their battle of the ring, and with equal +honour and success. + +In the chamber of banquet Richard was giving Ripton his last +directions. Though it was a private wedding, Mrs. Berry had prepared +a sumptuous breakfast. Chickens offered their breasts: pies hinted +savoury secrets: things mystic, in a mash, with Gallic appellatives, +jellies, creams, fruits, strewed the table: as a tower in the midst, +the cake colossal: the priestly vesture of its nuptial white +relieved by hymeneal splendours. + +Many hours, much labour and anxiety of mind, Mrs. Berry had expended +upon this breakfast, and why? There is one who comes to all feasts +that have their basis in Folly, whom criminals of trained instinct +are careful to provide against: who will speak, and whose hateful +voice must somehow be silenced while the feast is going on. This +personage is THE PHILOSOPHER. Mrs. Berry knew him. She knew that he +would come. She provided against him in the manner she thought most +efficacious: that is, by cheating her eyes and intoxicating her +conscience with the due and proper glories incident to weddings +where fathers dilate, mothers collapse, and marriage settlements are +flourished on high by the family lawyer: and had there been no show +of the kind to greet her on her return from the church, she would, +and she foresaw she would, have stared at squalor and emptiness, and +repented her work. The Philosopher would have laid hold of her by +the ear, and called her bad names. Entrenched behind a breakfast-table +so legitimately adorned, Mrs. Berry defied him. In the presence of +that cake he dared not speak above a whisper. And there were wines +to drown him in, should he still think of protesting; fiery wines, and +cool: claret sent purposely by the bridegroom for the delectation of +his friend. + +For one good hour, therefore, the labour of many hours kept him +dumb. Ripton was fortifying himself so as to forget him altogether, +and the word as well, till the next morning. Ripton was excited, +overdone with delight. He had already finished one bottle, and +listened, pleasantly flushed, to his emphatic and more abstemious +chief. He had nothing to do but to listen, and to drink. The hero +would not allow him to shout Victory! or hear a word of toasts; and +as, from the quantity of oil poured on it, his eloquence was +becoming a natural force in his bosom, the poor fellow was afflicted +with a sort of elephantiasis of suppressed emotion. At times he +half-rose from his chair, and fell vacuously into it again; or he +chuckled in the face of weighty, severely-worded instructions; +tapped his chest, stretched his arms, yawned, and in short behaved +so singularly that Richard observed it, and said: "On my soul, I +don't think you know a word I'm saying." + +"Every word, Ricky!" Ripton spirted through the opening. "I'm going +down to your governor, and tell him: Sir Austin! Here's your only +chance of being a happy father--no, no!--Oh! don't you fear me, +Ricky! I shall talk the old gentleman over." + +His chief said: + +"Look here. You had better not go down to-night. Go down the first +thing to-morrow, by the six o'clock train. Give him my letter. +Listen to me--give him my letter, and don't speak a word till he +speaks. His eyebrows will go up and down, he won't say much. I know +him. If he asks you about her, don't be a fool, but say what you +think of her sensibly"---- + +No cork could hold in Ripton when she was alluded to He shouted: +"She's an angel!" + +Richard checked him: "Speak sensibly, I say--quietly. You can say +how gentle and good she is--my fleur-de-luce! And say, this was not +her doing. If any one's to blame, it's I. I made her marry me. Then +go to Lady Blandish, if you don't find her at the house. You may say +whatever you please to her. Give her my letter, and tell her I want +to hear from her immediately. She has seen Lucy, and I know what she +thinks of her. You will then go to Farmer Blaize. I told you Lucy +happens to be his niece--she has not lived long there. She lived +with her aunt Desborough in France while she was a child, and can +hardly be called a relative to the farmer--there's not a point of +likeness between them. Poor darling! she never knew her mother. Go +to Mr. Blaize, and tell him. You will treat him just as you would +treat any other gentleman. If you are civil, he is sure to be. And +if he abuses me, for my sake and hers you will still treat him with +respect. You hear? And then write me a full account of all that has +been said and done. You will have my address the day after +to-morrow. By the way, Tom will be here this afternoon. Write out +for him where to call on you the day after to-morrow, in case you +have heard anything in the morning you think I ought to know at +once, as Tom will join me that night. Don't mention to anybody about +my losing the ring, Ripton. I wouldn't have Adrian get hold of that +for a thousand pounds. How on earth I came to lose it! How well she +bore it, Rip! How beautifully she behaved!" + +Ripton again shouted: "An angel!" Throwing up the heels of his +second bottle, he said: + +"You may trust your friend, Richard. Aha! when you pulled at old +Mrs. Berry I didn't know what was up. I do wish you'd let me drink +her health?" + +"Here's to Penelope!" said Richard, just wetting his mouth. The +carriage was at the door: a couple of dire organs, each grinding the +same tune, and a vulture-scented itinerant band (from which not the +secretest veiled wedding can escape) worked harmoniously without in +the production of discord, and the noise acting on his nervous state +made him begin to fume and send in messages for his bride by the +maid. + +By and by the lovely young bride presented herself dressed for her +journey, and smiling from stained eyes. + +Mrs. Berry was requested to drink some wine, which Ripton poured out +for her, enabling Mrs. Berry thereby to measure his condition. + +The bride now kissed Mrs. Berry, and Mrs. Berry kissed the +bridegroom, on the plea of her softness. Lucy gave Ripton her hand, +with a musical "Good-bye, Mr. Thompson," and her extreme +graciousness made him just sensible enough to sit down before he +murmured his fervent hopes for her happiness. + +"I shall take good care of him," said Mrs. Berry, focussing her eyes +to the comprehension of the company. + +"Farewell, Penelope!" cried Richard. "I shall tell the police +everywhere to look out for your lord." + +"Oh my dears! good-bye, and Heaven bless ye both!" + +Berry quavered, touched with compunction at the thoughts of +approaching loneliness. Ripton, his mouth drawn like a bow to his +ears, brought up the rear to the carriage, receiving a fair slap on +the cheek from an old shoe precipitated by Mrs. Berry's enthusiastic +female domestic. + +White handkerchiefs were waved, the adieux had fallen to signs: they +were off. Then did a thought of such urgency illumine Mrs. Berry, +that she telegraphed, hand in air, awakening Ripton's lungs, for the +coachman to stop, and ran back to the house. Richard chafed to be +gone, but at his bride's intercession he consented to wait. +Presently they beheld the old black-satin bunch stream through the +street-door, down the bit of garden, and up the astonished street, +halting, panting, capless at the carriage door, a book in her +hand,--a much-used, dog-leaved, steamy, greasy book, which, at the +same time calling out in breathless jerks, "There! never ye mind +looks! I ain't got a new one. Read it, and don't ye forget it!" she +discharged into Lucy's lap, and retreated to the railings, a signal +for the coachman to drive away for good. + +How Richard laughed at the Berry's bridal gift! Lucy, too, lost the +omen at her heart as she glanced at the title of the volume. It was +Dr. Kitchener on Domestic Cookery! + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE PHILOSOPHER APPEARS IN PERSON + + +General withdrawing of heads from street-windows, emigration of +organs and bands, and a relaxed atmosphere in the circle of Mrs. +Berry's abode, proved that Dan Cupid had veritably flown to suck the +life of fresh regions. With a pensive mind she grasped Ripton's arm +to regulate his steps, and returned to the room where her creditor +awaited her. In the interval he had stormed her undefended fortress, +the cake, from which altitude he shook a dolorous head at the guilty +woman. She smoothed her excited apron, sighing. Let no one imagine +that she regretted her complicity. She was ready to cry torrents, +but there must be absolute castigation before this criminal shall +conceive the sense of regret; and probably then she will cling to +her wickedness the more--such is the born Pagan's tenacity! Mrs. +Berry sighed, and gave him back his shake of the head. O you wanton, +improvident creature! said he. O you very wise old gentleman! said +she. He asked her the thing she had been doing. She enlightened him +with the fatalist's reply. He sounded a bogey's alarm of contingent +grave results. She retreated to the entrenched camp of the fact she +had helped to make. + +"It's done!" she exclaimed. How could she regret what she felt +comfort to know was done? Convinced that events alone could stamp a +mark on such stubborn flesh, he determined to wait for them, and +crouched silent on the cake, with one finger downward at Ripton's +incision there, showing a crumbling chasm and gloomy rich recess. + +The eloquent indication was understood. "Dear! dear!" cried Mrs. +Berry, "what a heap o' cake, and no one to send it to!" + +Ripton had resumed his seat by the table and his embrace of the +claret. Clear ideas of satisfaction had left him and resolved to a +boiling geysir of indistinguishable transports. He bubbled, and +waggled, and nodded amicably to nothing, and successfully, though +not without effort, preserved his uppermost member from the +seductions of the nymph, Gravitation, who was on the look-out for +his whole length shortly. + +"Ha! ha!" he shouted, about a minute after Mrs. Berry had spoken, +and almost abandoned himself to the nymph on the spot. Mrs. Berry's +words had just reached his wits. + +"Why do you laugh, young man?" she inquired, familiar and motherly +on account of his condition. + +Ripton laughed louder, and caught his chest on the edge of the table +and his nose on a chicken. "That's goo'!" he said, recovering, and +rocking under Mrs. Berry's eyes. "No friend!" + +"I did not say, no friend," she remarked. "I said, no one; meanin', +I know not where for to send it to." + +Ripton's response to this was: "You put a Griffin on that cake. +Wheatsheaves each side." + +"His crest?" Mrs. Berry said sweetly. + +"Oldest baronetcy 'n England!" waved Ripton. + +"Yes?" Mrs. Berry encouraged him on. + +"You think he's Richards. We're oblige' be very close. And she's the +most lovely!--If I hear man say thing 'gainst her." + +"You needn't for to cry over her, young man," said Mrs. Berry. "I +wanted for to drink their right healths by their right names, and +then go about my day's work, and I do hope you won't keep me." + +Ripton stood bolt upright at her words. + +"You do?" he said, and filling a bumper he with cheerfully vinous +articulation and glibness of tongue proposed the health of Richard +and Lucy Feverel, of Raynham Abbey! and that mankind should not +require an expeditious example of the way to accept the inspiring +toast, he drained his bumper at a gulp. It finished him. The +farthing rushlight of his reason leapt and expired. He tumbled to +the sofa and there stretched. + +Some minutes subsequent to Ripton's signalization of his devotion to +the bridal pair, Mrs. Berry's maid entered the room to say that a +gentleman was inquiring below after the young gentleman who had +departed, and found her mistress with a tottering wineglass in her +hand, exhibiting every symptom of unconsoled hysterics. Her mouth +gaped, as if the fell creditor had her by the swallow. She +ejaculated with horrible exultation that she had been and done it, +as her disastrous aspect seemed to testify, and her evident, but +inexplicable, access of misery induced the sympathetic maid to +tender those caressing words that were all Mrs. Berry wanted to go +off into the self-caressing fit without delay; and she had already +given the preluding demoniac ironic outburst, when the maid called +heaven to witness that the gentleman would hear her; upon which Mrs. +Berry violently controlled her bosom, and ordered that he should be +shown upstairs instantly to see her the wretch she was. She repeated +the injunction. + +The maid did as she was told, and Mrs. Berry, wishing first to see +herself as she was, mutely accosted the looking-glass, and tried to +look a very little better. She dropped a shawl on Ripton and was +settled, smoothing her agitation when her visitor was announced. + +The gentleman was Adrian Harley. An interview with Tom Bakewell had +put him on the track, and now a momentary survey of the table, and +its white-vestured cake, made him whistle. + +Mrs. Berry plaintively begged him to do her the favour to be seated. + +"A fine morning, ma'am," said Adrian. + +"It have been!" Mrs. Berry answered, glancing over her shoulder at +the window, and gulping as if to get her heart down from her mouth. + +"A very fine Spring," pursued Adrian, calmly anatomizing her +countenance. + +Mrs. Berry smothered an adjective to "weather" on a deep sigh. Her +wretchedness was palpable. In proportion to it, Adrian waxed +cheerful and brisk. He divined enough of the business to see that +there was some strange intelligence to be fished out of the culprit +who sat compressing hysterics before him; and as he was never more +in his element than when he had a sinner, and a repentant prostrate +abject sinner in hand, his affable countenance might well deceive +poor Berry. + +"I presume these are Mr. Thompson's lodgings?" he remarked, with a +look at the table. + +Mrs. Berry's head and the whites of her eyes informed him that they +were not Mr. Thompson's lodgings. + +"No?" said Adrian, and threw a carelessly inquisitive eye about him. +"Mr. Feverel is out, I suppose?" + +A convulsive start at the name, and two corroborating hands dropped +on her knees, formed Mrs. Berry's reply. + +"Mr. Feverel's man," continued Adrian, "told me I should be certain +to find him here. I thought he would be with his friend, Mr. +Thompson. I'm too late, I perceive. Their entertainment is over. I +fancy you have been having a party of them here, ma'am?--a +bachelors' breakfast!" + +In the presence of that cake this observation seemed to mask an +irony so shrewd that Mrs. Berry could barely contain herself. She +felt she must speak. Making her face as deplorably propitiating as +she could, she began: + +"Sir, may I beg for to know your name?" + +Mr. Harley accorded her request. + +Groaning in the clutch of a pitiless truth, she continued: + +"And you are Mr. Harley, that was--oh! and you've come for Mr.?"---- + +Mr. Richard Feverel was the gentleman Mr. Harley had come for. + +"Oh! and it's no mistake, and he's of Raynham Abbey?" Mrs. Berry +inquired. + +Adrian, very much amused, assured her that he was born and bred +there. + +"His father's Sir Austin?" wailed the black-satin bunch from behind +her handkerchief. + +Adrian verified Richard's descent. + +"Oh, then, what have I been and done!" she cried, and stared blankly +at her visitor. "I been and married my baby! I been and married the +bread out of my own mouth. O Mr. Harley! Mr. Harley! I knew you when +you was a boy that big, and wore jackets; and all of you. And it's +my softness that's my ruin, for I never can resist a man's asking. +Look at that cake, Mr. Harley!" + +Adrian followed her directions quite coolly. "Wedding-cake, ma'am!" +he said. + +"Bride-cake it is, Mr. Harley!" + +"Did you make it yourself, ma'am?" + +The quiet ease of the question overwhelmed Mrs. Berry, and upset +that train of symbolic representations by which she was seeking to +make him guess the catastrophe and spare her the furnace of +confession. + +"I did not make it myself, Mr. Harley," she replied. "It's a bought +cake, and I'm a lost woman. Little I dreamed when I had him in my +arms a baby that I should some day be marrying him out of my own +house! I little dreamed that! Oh, why did he come to me! Don't you +remember his old nurse, when he was a baby in arms, that went away +so sudden, and no fault of hers, Mr. Harley! The very mornin' after +the night you got into Mr. Benson's cellar, and got so tipsy on his +Madeary I remember it as clear as yesterday!--and Mr. Benson was +that angry he threatened to use the whip to you, and I helped put +you to bed. I'm that very woman." + +Adrian smiled placidly at these reminiscences of his guileless +youthful life. + +"Well, ma'am! well?" he said. He would bring her to the furnace. + +"Won't you see it all, kind sir?" Mrs. Berry appealed to him in +pathetic dumb show. + +Doubtless by this time Adrian did see it all, and was mentally +cursing at Folly, and reckoning the immediate consequences, but he +looked uninstructed, his peculiar dimple-smile was undisturbed, his +comfortable full-bodied posture was the same. "Well, ma'am?" he +spurred her on. + +Mrs. Berry burst forth: "It were done this mornin', Mr. Harley, in +the church, at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to, by +licence." + +Adrian was now obliged to comprehend a case of matrimony. "Oh!" he +said, like one who is as hard as facts, and as little to be moved: +"Somebody was married this morning; was it Mr. Thompson, or Mr. +Feverel?" + +Mrs. Berry shuffled up to Ripton, and removed the shawl from him, +saying: "Do he look like a new married bridegroom, Mr. Harley?" + +Adrian inspected the oblivious Ripton with philosophic gravity. + +"This young gentleman was at church this morning?" he asked. + +"Oh, quite reasonable and proper then," Mrs. Berry begged him to +understand. + +"Of course, ma'am." Adrian lifted and let fall the stupid inanimate +limbs of the gone wretch, puckering his mouth queerly. "You were all +reasonable and proper, ma'am. The principal male performer, then, is +my cousin, Mr. Feverel? He was married by you, this morning, by +licence at your parish church, and came here, and ate a hearty +breakfast, and left intoxicated." + +Mrs. Berry flew out. "He never drink a drop, sir. A more moderate +young gentleman you never see. Oh! don't ye think that now, Mr. +Harley. He was as upright and master of his mind as you be." + +"Ay!" the wise youth nodded thanks to her for the comparison, "I +mean the other form of intoxication." + +Mrs. Berry sighed. She could say nothing on that score. + +Adrian desired her to sit down, and compose herself, and tell him +circumstantially what had been done. + +She obeyed, in utter perplexity at his perfectly composed demeanour. + +Mrs. Berry, as her recital declared, was no other than that +identical woman who once in old days had dared to behold the baronet +behind his mask, and had ever since lived in exile from the Raynham +world on a little pension regularly paid to her as an indemnity. She +was that woman, and the thought of it made her almost accuse +Providence for the betraying excess of softness it had endowed her +with. How was she to recognize her baby grown a man? He came in a +feigned name; not a word of the family was mentioned. He came like +an ordinary mortal, though she felt something more than ordinary to +him--she knew she did. He came bringing a beautiful young lady, and +on what grounds could she turn her back on them? Why, seeing that +all was chaste and legal, why _should_ she interfere to make them +unhappy--so few the chances of happiness in this world! Mrs. Berry +related the seizure of her ring. + +"One wrench," said the sobbing culprit, "one, and my ring was off!" + +She had no suspicions, and the task of writing her name in the +vestry-book had been too enacting for a thought upon the other +signatures. + +"I daresay you were exceedingly sorry for what you had done," said +Adrian. + +"Indeed, sir," moaned Berry, "I were, and am." + +"And would do your best to rectify the mischief--eh, ma'am?" + +"Indeed, and indeed, sir, I would," she protested solemnly. + +"--As, of course, you should--knowing the family. Where may these +lunatics have gone to spend the Moon?" + +Mrs. Berry swimmingly replied: "To the Isle----I don't quite know, +sir!" she snapped the indication short, and jumped out of the pit +she had fallen into. Repentant as she might be, those dears should +not be pursued and cruelly balked of their young bliss! "To-morrow, +if you please, Mr. Harley: not to-day!" + +"A pleasant spot," Adrian observed, smiling at his easy prey. + +By a measurement of dates he discovered that the bridegroom had +brought his bride to the house on the day he had quitted Raynham, +and this was enough to satisfy Adrian's mind that there had been +concoction and chicanery. Chance, probably, had brought him to the +old woman: chance certainly had not brought him to the young one. + +"Very well, ma'am," he said, in answer to her petitions for his +favourable offices with Sir Austin in behalf of her little pension +and the bridal pair, "I will tell him you were only a blind agent in +the affair, being naturally soft, and that you trust he will bless +the consummation. He will be in town to-morrow morning; but one of +you two must see him to-night. An emetic kindly administered will +set our friend here on his legs. A bath and a clean shirt, and he +might go. I don't see why your name should appear at all. Brush him +up, and send him to Bellingham by the seven o'clock train. He will +find his way to Raynham; he knows the neighbourhood best in the +dark. Let him go and state the case. Remember, one of you must go." + +With this fair prospect of leaving a choice of a perdition between +the couple of unfortunates, for them to fight and lose all their +virtue over, Adrian said, "Good morning." + +Mrs. Berry touchingly arrested him. "You won't refuse a piece of his +cake, Mr. Harley?" + +"Oh, dear, no, ma'am," Adrian turned to the cake with alacrity. "I +shall claim a very large piece. Richard has a great many friends who +will rejoice to eat his wedding-cake. Cut me a fair quarter, Mrs. +Berry. Put it in paper, if you please. I shall be delighted to carry +it to them, and apportion it equitably according to their several +degrees of relationship." + +Mrs. Berry cut the cake. Somehow, as she sliced through it, the +sweetness and hapless innocence of the bride was presented to her, +and she launched into eulogies of Lucy, and clearly showed how +little she regretted her conduct. She vowed that they seemed made +for each other; that both were beautiful; both had spirit; both were +innocent; and to part them, or make them unhappy, would be, Mrs. +Berry wrought herself to cry aloud, oh, such a pity! + +Adrian listened to it as the expression of a matter-of-fact opinion. +He took the huge quarter of cake, nodded multitudinous promises, and +left Mrs. Berry to bless his good heart. + +"So dies the System!" was Adrian's comment in the street. "And now +let prophets roar! He dies respectably in a marriage-bed, which is +more than I should have foretold of the monster. Meantime," he gave +the cake a dramatic tap, "I'll go sow nightmares." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +PROCESSION OF THE CAKE + + +Adrian really bore the news he had heard with creditable +disinterestedness, and admirable repression of anything beneath the +dignity of a philosopher. When one has attained that felicitous +point of wisdom from which one sees all mankind to be fools, the +diminutive objects may make what new moves they please, one does not +marvel at them: their sedateness is as comical as their frolic, and +their frenzies more comical still. On this intellectual eminence the +wise youth had built his castle, and he had lived in it from an +early period. Astonishment never shook the foundations, nor did envy +of greater heights tempt him to relinquish the security of his +stronghold, for he saw none. Jugglers he saw running up ladders that +overtopped him, and air-balloons scaling the empyrean; but the +former came precipitately down again, and the latter were at the +mercy of the winds; while he remained tranquil on his solid +unambitious ground, fitting his morality to the laws, his conscience +to his morality, his comfort to his conscience. Not that voluntarily +he cut himself off from his fellows: on the contrary, his sole +amusement was their society. Alone he was rather dull, as a man who +beholds but one thing must naturally be. Study of the animated +varieties of that one thing excited him sufficiently to think life a +pleasant play; and the faculties he had forfeited to hold his +elevated position he could serenely enjoy by contemplation of them +in others. Thus:--wonder at Master Richard's madness: though he +himself did not experience it, he was eager to mark the effect on +his beloved relatives. As he carried along his vindictive hunch of +cake, he shaped out their different attitudes of amaze, +bewilderment, horror; passing by some personal chagrin in the +prospect. For his patron had projected a journey, commencing with +Paris, culminating on the Alps, and lapsing in Rome: a delightful +journey to show Richard the highways of History and tear him from +the risk of further ignoble fascinations, that his spirit might be +altogether bathed in freshness and revived. This had been planned +during Richard's absence to surprise him. + +Now the dream of travel was to Adrian what the love of woman is to +the race of young men. It supplanted that foolishness. It was his +Romance, as we say; that buoyant anticipation on which in youth we +ride the airs, and which, as we wax older and too heavy for our +atmosphere, hardens to the Hobby, which, if an obstinate animal, is +a safer horse, and conducts man at a slower pace to the sexton. +Adrian had never travelled. He was aware that his romance was +earthly and had discomforts only to be evaded by the one potent +talisman possessed by his patron. His Alp would hardly be grand to +him without an obsequious landlord in the foreground: he must +recline on Mammon's imperial cushions in order to moralize +becomingly on the ancient world. The search for pleasure at the +expense of discomfort, as frantic lovers woo their mistresses to +partake the shelter of a hut and batten on a crust, Adrian deemed +the bitterness of beggarliness. Let his sweet mistress be given him +in the pomp and splendour due to his superior emotions, or not at +all. Consequently the wise youth had long nursed an ineffectual +passion, and it argued a great nature in him, that at the moment +when his wishes were to be crowned, he should look with such slight +touches of spleen at the gorgeous composite fabric of Parisian +cookery and Roman antiquities crumbling into unsubstantial mockery. +Assuredly very few even of the philosophers would have turned away +uncomplainingly to meaner delights the moment after. + +Hippias received the first portion of the cake. + +He was sitting by the window in his hotel, reading. He had fought +down his breakfast with more than usual success, and was looking +forward to his dinner at the Foreys' with less than usual timidity. + +"Ah! glad you've come, Adrian," he said, and expanded his chest. "I +was afraid I should have to ride down. This is kind of you. We'll +walk down together through the park. It's absolutely dangerous to +walk alone in these streets. My opinion is, that orange-peel lasts +all through the year now, and will till legislation puts a stop to +it. I give you my word I slipped on a piece of orange-peel yesterday +afternoon in Piccadilly, and I thought I was down! I saved myself by +a miracle." + +"You have an appetite, I hope?" asked Adrian. + +"I think I shall get one, after a bit of a walk," chirped Hippias. +"Yes. I think I feel hungry now." + +"Charmed to hear it," said Adrian, and began unpinning his parcel on +his knees. "How should you define Folly?" he checked the process to +inquire. + +"Hm!" Hippias meditated; he prided himself on being oracular when +such questions were addressed to him. "I think I should define it to +be a slide." + +"Very good definition. In other words, a piece of orange-peel; once +on it, your life and limbs are in danger, and you are saved by a +miracle. You must present that to the PILGRIM. And the monument of +folly, what would that be?" + +Hippias meditated anew. "All the human race on one another's +shoulders." He chuckled at the sweeping sourness of the instance. + +"Very good," Adrian applauded, "or in default of that, some symbol +of the thing, say; such as this of which I have here brought you a +chip." + +Adrian displayed the quarter of the cake. + +"This is the monument made portable--eh?" + +"Cake!" cried Hippias, retreating to his chair to dramatize his +intense disgust. "You're right of them that eat it. If I--if I don't +mistake," he peered at it, "the noxious composition bedizened in +that way is what they call wedding-cake. It's arrant poison! Who is +it you want to kill? What are you carrying such stuff about for?" + +Adrian rang the bell for a knife. "To present you with your due and +proper portion. You will have friends and relatives, and can't be +saved from them, not even by miracle. It is a habit which exhibits, +perhaps, the unconscious inherent cynicism of the human mind, for +people who consider that they have reached the acme of mundane +felicity, to distribute this token of esteem to their friends, with +the object probably" (he took the knife from a waiter and went to +the table to slice the cake) "of enabling those friends (these +edifices require very delicate incision--each particular currant and +subtle condiment hangs to its neighbour--a wedding-cake is evidently +the most highly civilized of cakes, and partakes of the evils as +well as the advantages of civilization!)--I was saying, they send us +these love-tokens, no doubt (we shall have to weigh out the crumbs, +if each is to have his fair share) that we may the better estimate +their state of bliss by passing some hours in purgatory. This, as +far as I can apportion it without weights and scales, is your share, +my uncle!" + +He pushed the corner of the table bearing the cake towards Hippias. + +"Get away!" Hippias vehemently motioned, and started from his chair. +"I'll have none of it, I tell you! It's death! It's fifty times +worse than that beastly compound Christmas pudding! What fool has +been doing this, then? Who dares send me cake? Me! It's an insult." + +"You are not compelled to eat any before dinner," said Adrian, +pointing the corner of the table after him, "but your share you must +take, and appear to consume. One who has done so much to bring about +the marriage cannot in conscience refuse his allotment of the +fruits. Maidens, I hear, first cook it under their pillows, and +extract nuptial dreams therefrom--said to be of a lighter class, +taken that way. It's a capital cake, and, upon my honour, you have +helped to make it--you have indeed! So here it is." + +The table again went at Hippias. He ran nimbly round it, and flung +himself on a sofa exhausted, crying: "There!... My appetite's gone +for to-day!" + +"Then shall I tell Richard that you won't touch a morsel of his +cake?" said Adrian, leaning on his two hands over the table and +looking at his uncle. + +"Richard?" + +"Yes, your nephew: my cousin: Richard! Your companion since you've +been in town. He's married, you know. Married this morning at +Kensington parish church, by licence, at half-past eleven of the +clock, or twenty to twelve. Married, and gone to spend his honeymoon +in the Isle of Wight: a very delectable place for a month's +residence. I have to announce to you that, thanks to your +assistance, the experiment is launched, sir!"---- + +"Richard married!" + +There was something to think and to say in objection to it, but the +wits of poor Hippias was softened by the shock. His hand travelled +half-way to his forehead, spread out to smooth the surface of that +seat of reason, and then fell. + +"Surely you knew all about it? you were so anxious to have him in +town under your charge." + +"Married?" Hippias jumped up--he had it. "Why, he's under age! he's +an infant." + +"So he is. But the infant is not the less married. Fib like a man +and pay your fee--what does it matter? Any one who is breeched can +obtain a licence in our noble country. And the interests of morality +demand that it should not be difficult. Is it true--can you persuade +anybody that you have known nothing about it?" + +"Ha! infamous joke! I wish, sir, you would play your pranks on +somebody else," said Hippias, sternly, as he sank back on the sofa. +"You've done me up for the day, I can assure you." + +Adrian sat down to instil belief by gentle degrees, and put an +artistic finish to the work. He had the gratification of passing his +uncle through varied contortions, and at last Hippias perspired in +conviction, and exclaimed, "This accounts for his conduct to me. +That boy must have a cunning nothing short of infernal! I feel ... I +feel it just here," he drew a hand along his midriff. + +"I'm not equal to this world of fools," he added faintly, and shut +his eyes. "No, I can't dine. Eat? ha! ... no. Go without me!" + +Shortly after Hippias went to bed, saying to himself, as he +undressed, "See what comes of our fine schemes! Poor Austin!" and as +the pillow swelled over his ears, "I'm not sure that a day's fast +won't do me good." The Dyspepsy had bought his philosophy at a heavy +price; he had a right to use it. + +Adrian resumed the procession of the cake. + +He sighted his melancholy uncle Algernon hunting an appetite in the +Row, and looking as if the hope ahead of him were also one-legged. +The Captain did not pass without querying the ungainly parcel. + +"I hope I carry it ostentatiously enough?" said Adrian. "Enclosed is +wherewithal to quiet the alarm of the land. Now may the maids and +wives of Merry England sleep secure. I had half a mind to fix it on +a pole, and engage a band to parade it. This is our dear Richard's +wedding-cake. Married at half-past eleven this morning, by licence, +at the Kensington parish church; his own ring being lost he employed +the ring of his beautiful bride's lachrymose landlady, she standing +adjacent by the altar. His farewell to you as a bachelor, and hers +as a maid, you can claim on the spot, if you think proper, and +digest according to your powers." + +Algernon let off steam in a whistle. "Thompson, the solicitor's +daughter!" he said. "I met them the other day, somewhere about here. +He introduced me to her. A pretty little baggage." + +"No." Adrian set him right. "'Tis a Miss Desborough, a Roman +Catholic dairymaid. Reminds one of pastoral England in the time of +the Plantagenets! He's quite equal to introducing her as Thompson's +daughter, and himself as Beelzebub's son. However, the wild animal +is in Hymen's chains, and the cake is cut. Will you have your +morsel?" + +"Oh, by all means!--not now." Algernon had an unwonted air of +reflection.--"Father know it?" + +"Not yet. He will to-night by nine o'clock." + +"Then I must see him by seven. Don't say you met me." He nodded, and +pricked his horse. + +"Wants money!" said Adrian, putting the combustible he carried once +more in motion. + +The women were the crowning joy of his contemplative mind. He had +reserved them for his final discharge. Dear demonstrative creatures! +Dyspepsia would not weaken their poignant outcries, or self-interest +check their fainting fits. On the generic woman one could calculate. +Well might THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP say of her that, "She is always at +Nature's breast"; not intending it as a compliment. Each woman is +Eve throughout the ages; whereas the PILGRIM would have us believe +that the Adam in men has become warier, if not wiser; and weak as he +is, has learnt a lesson from time. Probably the PILGRIM'S meaning +may be taken to be, that Man grows, and Woman does not. + +At any rate, Adrian hoped for such natural choruses as you hear in +the nursery when a bauble is lost. He was awake to Mrs. Doria's +maternal predestinations, and guessed that Clare stood ready with +the best form of filial obedience. They were only a poor couple to +gratify his Mephistophelian humour, to be sure, but Mrs. Doria was +equal to twenty, and they would proclaim the diverse ways with which +maidenhood and womanhood took disappointment, while the surrounding +Forey girls and other females of the family assembly were expected +to develop the finer shades and tapering edges of an agitation to +which no woman could be cold. + +All went well. He managed cleverly to leave the cake unchallenged in +a conspicuous part of the drawing-room, and stepped gaily down to +dinner. Much of the conversation adverted to Richard. Mrs. Doria +asked him if he had seen the youth, or heard of him. + +"Seen him? no! Heard of him? yes!" said Adrian. "I have heard of +him. I heard that he was sublimely happy, and had eaten such a +breakfast that dinner was impossible; claret and cold chicken, cake +and"---- + +"Cake at breakfast!" they all interjected. + +"That seems to be his fancy just now." + +"What an extraordinary taste!" + +"You know, he is educated on a System." + +One fast young male Forey allied the System and the cake in a +miserable pun. Adrian, a hater of puns, looked at him, and held the +table silent, as if he were going to speak; but he said nothing, and +the young gentleman vanished from the conversation in a blush, +extinguished by his own spark. + +Mrs. Doria peevishly exclaimed, "Oh! fish-cake, I suppose! I wish he +understood a little better the obligations of relationship." + +"Whether he understands them, I can't say," observed Adrian, "but I +assure you he is very energetic in extending them." + +The wise youth talked innuendoes whenever he had an opportunity, +that his dear relative might be rendered sufficiently inflammable by +and by at the aspect of the cake; but he was not thought more than +commonly mysterious and deep. + +"Was his appointment at the house of those Grandison people?" Mrs. +Doria asked, with a hostile upper-lip. + +Adrian warmed the blindfolded parties by replying, "Do they keep a +beadle at the door?" + +Mrs. Doria's animosity to Mrs. Grandison made her treat this as a +piece of satirical ingenuousness. "I daresay they do," she said. + +"And a curate on hand?" + +"Oh, I should think a dozen!" + +Old Mr. Forey advised his punning grandson Clarence to give that +house a wide berth, where he might be disposed of and dished-up at a +moment's notice, and the scent ran off at a jest. + +The Foreys gave good dinners, and with the old gentleman the +excellent old fashion remained in permanence of trooping off the +ladies as soon as they had taken their sustenance and just exchanged +a smile with the flowers and the dessert, when they rose to fade +with a beautiful accord, and the gallant males breathed under easier +waistcoats, and settled to the business of the table, sure that an +hour for unbosoming and imbibing was their own. Adrian took a chair +by Brandon Forey, a barrister of standing. + +"I want to ask you," he said, "whether an infant in law can legally +bind himself." + +"If he's old enough to affix his signature to an instrument, I +suppose he can," yawned Brandon. + +"Is he responsible for his acts?" + +"I've no doubt we could hang him." + +"Then what he could do for himself, you could do for him?" + +"Not quite so much; pretty near." + +"For instance, he can marry?" + +"That's not a criminal case, you know." + +"And the marriage is valid?" + +"You can dispute it." + +"Yes, and the Greeks and the Trojans can fight. It holds then?" + +"Both water and fire!" + +The patriarch of the table sang out to Adrian that he stopped the +vigorous circulation of the claret. + +"Dear me, sir!" said Adrian, "I beg pardon. The circumstances must +excuse me. The fact is, my cousin Richard got married to a dairymaid +this morning, and I wanted to know whether it held in law." + +It was amusing to watch the manly coolness with which the +announcement was taken. Nothing was heard more energetic than, +"Deuce he has!" and, "A dairymaid!" + +"I thought it better to let the ladies dine in peace," Adrian +continued. "I wanted to be able to console my aunt"---- + +"Well, but--well, but," the old gentleman, much the most excited, +puffed--"eh, Brandon? He's a boy, this young ass! Do you mean to +tell me a boy can go and marry when he pleases, and any trull he +pleases, and the marriage is good? If I thought that I'd turn every +woman off my premises. I would! from the housekeeper to the +scullery-maid. I'd have no woman near him till--till"---- + +"Till the young greenhorn was grey, sir?" suggested Brandon. + +"Till he knew what women are made of, sir!" the old gentleman +finished his sentence vehemently. "What, d'ye think, will Feverel +say to it, Mr. Adrian?" + +"He has been trying the very System you have proposed, sir--one that +does not reckon on the powerful action of curiosity on the juvenile +intelligence. I'm afraid it's the very worst way of solving the +problem." + +"Of course it is," said Clarence. "None but a fool!"---- + +"At your age," Adrian relieved his embarrassment, "it is natural, my +dear Clarence, that you should consider the idea of an isolated or +imprisoned manhood something monstrous, and we do not expect you to +see what amount of wisdom it contains. You follow one extreme, and +we the other. I don't say that a middle course exists. The history +of mankind shows our painful efforts to find one, but they have +invariably resolved themselves into asceticism, or laxity, acting +and reacting. The moral question is, if a naughty little man, by +reason of his naughtiness, releases himself from foolishness, does a +foolish little man, by reason of his foolishness, save himself from +naughtiness?" + +A discussion, peculiar to men of the world, succeeded the laugh at +Mr. Clarence. Then coffee was handed round and the footman informed +Adrian, in a low voice, that Mrs. Doria Forey particularly wished to +speak with him. Adrian preferred not to go in alone. "Very well," he +said, and sipped his coffee. They talked on, sounding the depths of +law in Brandon Forey, and receiving nought but hollow echoes from +that profound cavity. He would not affirm that the marriage was +invalid: he would not affirm that it could not be annulled. He +thought not: still he thought it would be worth trying. A +consummated and a non-consummated union were two different +things.... + +"Dear me!" said Adrian, "does the Law recognize that? Why, that's +almost human!" + +Another message was brought to Adrian that Mrs. Doria Forey _very_ +particularly wished to speak with him. + +"What can be the matter?" he exclaimed, pleased to have his faith in +woman strengthened. The cake had exploded, no doubt. + +So it proved, when the gentlemen joined the fair society. All the +younger ladies stood about the table, whereon the cake stood +displayed, gaps being left for those sitting to feast their vision, +and intrude the comments and speculations continually arising from +fresh shocks of wonder at the unaccountable apparition. Entering +with the half-guilty air of men who know they have come from a +grosser atmosphere, the gallant males also ranged themselves round +the common object of curiosity. + +"Here! Adrian!" Mrs. Doria cried. "Where is Adrian? Pray, come here. +Tell me! Where did this cake come from? Whose is it? What does it do +here? You know all about it, for you brought it. Clare saw you bring +it into the room. What does it mean? I insist upon a direct answer. +Now do not make me impatient, Adrian." + +Certainly Mrs. Doria was equal to twenty. By her concentrated +rapidity and volcanic complexion it was evident that suspicion had +kindled. + +"I was really bound to bring it," Adrian protested. + +"Answer me!" + +The wise youth bowed: "Categorically. This cake came from the house +of a person, a female, of the name of Berry. It belongs to you +partly, partly to me, partly to Clare, and to the rest of our +family, on the principle of equal division: for which purpose it is +present...." + +"Yes! Speak!" + +"It means, my dear aunt, what that kind of cake usually does mean." + +"This, then, is the Breakfast! And the ring! Adrian! where is +Richard?" + +Mrs. Doria still clung to unbelief in the monstrous horror. + +But when Adrian told her that Richard had left town, her struggling +hope sank. "The wretched boy has ruined himself!" she said, and sat +down trembling. + +Oh! that System! The delicate vituperations gentle ladies use +instead of oaths, Mrs. Doria showered on that System. She hesitated +not to say that her brother had got what he deserved. Opinionated, +morbid, weak, justice had overtaken him. Now he would see! but at +what a price! at what a sacrifice! + +Mrs. Doria commanded Adrian to confirm her fears. + +Sadly the wise youth recapitulated Berry's words. "He was married +this morning at half-past eleven of the clock, or twenty to twelve, +by licence, at the Kensington parish church." + +"Then that was his appointment!" Mrs. Doria murmured. + +"That was the cake for breakfast!" breathed a second of her sex. + +"And it was his ring!" exclaimed a third. + +The men were silent, and made long faces. + +Clare stood cold and sedate. She and her mother avoided each other's +eyes. + +"Is it that abominable country person, Adrian?" + +"The happy damsel is, I regret to say, the Papist dairymaid," said +Adrian, in sorrowful but deliberate accents. + +Then arose a feminine hum, in the midst of which Mrs. Doria cried, +"Brandon!" She was a woman of energy. Her thoughts resolved to +action spontaneously. + +"Brandon," she drew the barrister a little aside, "can they not be +followed, and separated? I want your advice. Cannot we separate +them? A boy! it is really shameful if he should be allowed to fall +into the toils of a designing creature to ruin himself irrevocably. +Can we not, Brandon?" + +The worthy barrister felt inclined to laugh, but he answered her +entreaties: "From what I hear of the young groom I should imagine +the office perilous." + +"I'm speaking of law, Brandon. Can we not obtain an order from one +of your Courts to pursue them and separate them instantly?" + +"This evening?" + +"Yes!" + +Brandon was sorry to say she decidedly could not. + +"You might call on one of your Judges, Brandon." + +Brandon assured her that the Judges were a hard-worked race, and to +a man slept heavily after dinner. + +"Will you do so to-morrow, the first thing in the morning? Will you +promise me to do so, Brandon?--Or a magistrate! A magistrate would +send a policeman after them. My dear Brandon! I beg--I beg you to +assist us in this dreadful extremity. It will be the death of my +poor brother. I believe he would forgive anything but this. You have +no idea what his notions are of blood." + +Brandon tipped Adrian a significant nod to step in and aid. + +"What is it, aunt?" asked the wise youth. "You want them followed +and torn asunder by wild policemen?" + +"To-morrow;" Brandon queerly interposed. + +"Won't that be--just too late?" Adrian suggested. + +Mrs. Doria sighed out her last spark of hope. + +"You see," said Adrian.... + +"Yes! yes!" Mrs. Doria did not require any of his elucidations. +"Pray be quiet, Adrian, and let me speak. Brandon! it cannot be! +it's quite impossible! Can you stand there and tell me that boy is +legally married? I never will believe it! The law cannot be so +shamefully bad as to permit a boy--a mere child--to do such absurd +things. Grandpapa!" she beckoned to the old gentleman. "Grandpapa! +pray do make Brandon speak. These lawyers never will. He might stop +it, if he would. If I were a man, do you think I would stand here?" + +"Well, my dear," the old gentleman toddled to compose her, "I'm +quite of your opinion. I believe he knows no more than you or I. My +belief is they none of them know anything till they join issue and +go into Court. I want to see a few female lawyers." + +"To encourage the bankrupt perruquier, sir?" said Adrian. "They +would have to keep a large supply of wigs on hand." + +"And you can jest, Adrian!" his aunt reproached him. "But I will not +be beaten. I know--I am firmly convinced that no law would ever +allow a boy to disgrace his family and ruin himself like that, and +nothing shall persuade me that it is so. Now, tell me, Brandon, and +pray do speak in answer to my questions, and please to forget you +are dealing with a woman. _Can_ my nephew be rescued from the +consequences of his folly? _Is_ what he has done legitimate? _Is_ he +bound for life by what he has done while a boy?" + +"Well--a," Brandon breathed through his teeth. "A--hm! the matter's +so very delicate, you see, Helen." + +"You're to forget that," Adrian remarked. + +"A--hm! well!" pursued Brandon. "Perhaps if you could arrest and +divide them before nightfall, and make affidavit of certain +facts".... + +"Yes?" the eager woman hastened his lagging mouth. + +"Well ... hm! a ... in that case ... a.... Or if a lunatic, you +could prove him to have been of unsound mind."... + +"Oh! there's no doubt of his madness on _my_ mind, Brandon." + +"Yes! well! in that case.... Or if of different religious +persuasions".... + +"She _is_ a Catholic!" Mrs. Doria joyfully interjected. + +"Yes! well! in that case ... objections might be taken to the form +of the marriage.... Might be proved fictitious.... Or if he's under, +say, eighteen years." + +"He _can't_ be much more," cried Mrs. Doria. "I think," she appeared +to reflect, and then faltered imploringly to Adrian, "What is +Richard's age?" + +The kind wise youth could not find it in his heart to strike away +the phantom straw she caught at. + +"Oh! about that, I should fancy," he muttered, and found it +necessary at the same time to duck and turn his head for +concealment. Mrs. Doria surpassed his expectations. + +"Yes! well, then...." Brandon was resuming with a shrug, which was +meant to say he still pledged himself to nothing, when Clare's voice +was heard from out the buzzing circle of her cousins: "Richard is +nineteen years and six months old to-day, mama." + +"Nonsense, child." + +"He is, mama." Clare's voice was very steadfast. + +"Non_sense_, I tell you. How _can_ you know?" + +"Richard is one year and nine months older than me, mama." + +Mrs. Doria fought the fact by years and finally by months. Clare was +too strong for her. + +"Singular child!" she mentally apostrophized the girl who scornfully +rejected straws while drowning. + +"But there's the religion still!" she comforted herself, and sat +down to cogitate. + +The men smiled and looked vacuous. + +Music was proposed. There are times when soft music hath not charms; +when it is put to as base uses as Imperial Caesar's dust and is taken +to fill horrid pauses. Angelica Forey thumped the piano, and sang: +"_I'm a laughing Gitana, ha--ha! ha--ha!_" Matilda Forey and her +cousin Mary Bransburne wedded their voices, and songfully incited +all young people to _Haste to the bower that love has built_, and +defy the wise ones of the world; but the wise ones of the world were +in a majority there, and very few places of assembly will be found +where they are not; so the glowing appeal of the British +ballad-monger passed into the bosom of the emptiness he addressed. +Clare was asked to entertain the company. The singular child calmly +marched to the instrument, and turned over the appropriate +illustrations to the ballad-monger's repertory. + +Clare sang a little Irish air. Her duty done, she marched from the +piano. Mothers are rarely deceived by their daughters in these +matters; but Clare deceived her mother; and Mrs. Doria only +persisted in feeling an agony of pity for her child, that she might +the more warrantably pity herself--a not uncommon form of the +emotion, for there is no juggler like that heart the ballad-monger +puts into our mouths so boldly. Remember that she saw years of +self-denial, years of a ripening scheme, rendered fruitless in a +minute, and by the System which had almost reduced her to the +condition of constitutional hypocrite. She had enough of bitterness +to brood over, and some excuse for self-pity. + +Still, even when she was cooler, Mrs. Doria's energetic nature +prevented her from giving up. Straws were straws, and the frailer +they were the harder she clutched them. + +She rose from her chair, and left the room, calling to Adrian to +follow her. + +"Adrian," she said, turning upon him in the passage, "you mentioned +a house where this horrible cake ... where he was this morning. I +desire you to take me to that woman immediately." + +The wise youth had not bargained for personal servitude. He had +hoped he should be in time for the last act of the opera that night, +after enjoying the comedy of real life. + +"My dear aunt" ... he was beginning to insinuate. + +"Order a cab to be sent for, and get your hat," said Mrs. Doria. + +There was nothing for it but to obey. He stamped his assent to the +PILGRIM'S dictum, that Women are practical creatures, and now +reflected on his own account, that relationship to a young fool may +be a vexation and a nuisance. However, Mrs. Doria compensated him. + +What Mrs. Doria intended to do, the practical creature did not +plainly know; but her energy positively demanded to be used in some +way or other, and her instinct directed her to the offender on whom +she could use it in wrath. She wanted somebody to be angry with, +somebody to abuse. She dared not abuse her brother to his face: him +she would have to console. Adrian was a fellow-hypocrite to the +System, and would, she was aware, bring her into painfully delicate, +albeit highly philosophic, ground by a discussion of the case. So +she drove to Bessy Berry simply to inquire whither her nephew had +flown. + +When a soft woman, and that soft woman a sinner, is matched with a +woman of energy, she does not show much fight, and she meets no +mercy. Bessy Berry's creditor came to her in female form that night. +She then beheld it in all its terrors. Hitherto it had appeared to +her as a male, a disembodied spirit of her imagination possessing +male attributes, and the peculiar male characteristic of being +moved, and ultimately silenced, by tears. As female, her creditor +was terrible indeed. Still, had it not been a late hour, Bessy Berry +would have died rather than speak openly that her babes had sped to +make their nest in the Isle of Wight. They had a long start, they +were out of the reach of pursuers, they were safe, and she told what +she had to tell. She told more than was wise of her to tell. She +made mention of her early service in the family, and of her little +pension. Alas! her little pension! Her creditor had come expecting +no payment--come, as creditors are wont in such moods, just to take +it out of her--to employ the familiar term. At once Mrs. Doria +pounced upon the pension. + +"That, of course, you know is at an end," she said in the calmest +manner, and Berry did not plead for the little bit of bread to her. +She only asked a little consideration for her feelings. + +True admirers of women had better stand aside from the scene. +Undoubtedly it was very sad for Adrian to be compelled to witness +it. Mrs. Doria was not generous. The PILGRIM may be wrong about the +sex not growing; but its fashion of conducting warfare we must allow +to be barbarous, and according to what is deemed the pristine, or +wild cat, method. Ruin, nothing short of it, accompanied poor Berry +to her bed that night, and her character bled till morning on her +pillow. + +The scene over, Adrian reconducted Mrs. Doria to her home. Mice had +been at the cake during her absence apparently. The ladies and +gentlemen present put it on the greedy mice, who were accused of +having gorged and gone to bed. + +"I'm sure they're quite welcome," said Mrs. Doria. "It's a farce, +this marriage, and Adrian has quite come to my way of thinking. I +would not touch an atom of it. Why, they were married in a married +woman's ring! Can _that_ be legal, as you call it? Oh, I'm +convinced! Don't tell me. Austin will be in town to-morrow, and if +he is true to his principles, he will instantly adopt measures to +rescue his son from infamy. I want no legal advice. I go upon common +sense, common decency. This marriage is false." + +Mrs. Doria's fine scheme had become so much a part of her life, that +she could not give it up. She took Clare to her bed, and caressed +and wept over her, as she would not have done had she known the +singular child, saying, "Poor Richard! my dear poor boy! we must +save him, Clare! we must save him!" Of the two the mother showed the +greater want of iron on this occasion. Clare lay in her arms rigid +and emotionless, with one of her hands tight-locked. All she said +was: "I knew it in the morning, mama." She slept clasping Richard's +nuptial ring. + +By this time all specially concerned in the System knew it. The +honeymoon was shining placidly above them. Is not happiness like +another circulating medium? When we have a very great deal of it, +some poor hearts are aching for what is taken away from them. When +we have gone out and seized it on the highways, certain inscrutable +laws are sure to be at work to bring us to the criminal bar, sooner +or later. Who knows the honeymoon that did not steal somebody's +sweetness? Richard Turpin went forth, singing "Money or life" to the +world: Richard Feverel has done the same, substituting "Happiness" +for "Money," frequently synonyms. The coin he wanted he would have, +and was just as much a highway robber as his fellow Dick, so that +those who have failed to recognize him as a hero before, may now +regard him in that light. Meanwhile the world he has squeezed looks +exceedingly patient and beautiful. His coin chinks delicious music +to him. Nature and the order of things on earth have no warmer +admirer than a jolly brigand or a young man made happy by the Jews. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +NURSING THE DEVIL + + +And now the author of the System was on trial under the eyes of the +lady who loved him. What so kind as they? Yet are they very +rigorous, those soft watchful woman's eyes. If you are below the +measure they have made of you, you will feel it in the fulness of +time. She cannot but show you that she took you for a giant, and has +had to come down a bit. You feel yourself strangely diminishing in +those sweet mirrors, till at last they drop on you complacently +level. But, oh, beware, vain man, of ever waxing enamoured of that +wonderful elongation of a male creature you saw reflected in her +adoring upcast orbs! Beware of assisting to delude her! A woman who +is not quite a fool will forgive your being but a man, if you are +surely that: she will haply learn to acknowledge that no mortal +tailor could have fitted that figure she made of you respectably, +and that practically (though she sighs to think it) her ideal of +you was on the pattern of an overgrown charity-boy in the regulation +jacket and breech. For this she first scorns the narrow capacities +of the tailor, and then smiles at herself. But shouldst thou, when +the hour says plainly, Be thyself, and the woman is willing to take +thee as thou art, shouldst thou still aspire to be that thing of +shanks and wrists, wilt thou not seem contemptible as well as +ridiculous? And when the fall comes, will it not be flat on thy +face, instead of to the common height of men? You may fall miles +below her measure of you, and be safe: nothing is damaged save an +overgrown charity-boy; but if you fall below the common height of +men, you must make up your mind to see her rustle her gown, spy at +the looking-glass, and transfer her allegiance. The moral of which +is, that if we pretend to be what we are not, woman, for whose +amusement the farce is performed, will find us out and punish us for +it. And it is usually the end of a sentimental dalliance. + +Had Sir Austin given vent to the pain and wrath it was natural he +should feel, he might have gone to unphilosophic excesses, and, +however much he lowered his reputation as a sage, Lady Blandish +would have excused him: she would not have loved him less for seeing +him closer. But the poor gentleman tasked his soul and stretched his +muscles to act up to her conception of him. He, a man of science in +life, who was bound to be surprised by nothing in nature, it was not +for him to do more than lift his eyebrows and draw in his lips at +the news delivered by Ripton Thompson, that ill bird at Raynham. + +All he said, after Ripton had handed the letters and carried his +penitential headache to bed, was: "You see, Emmeline, it is useless +to base any system on a human being." + +A very philosophical remark for one who has been busily at work +building for nearly twenty years. Too philosophical to seem genuine. +It revealed where the blow struck sharpest. Richard was no longer +the Richard of his creation--his pride and his joy--but simply a +human being with the rest. The bright star had sunk among the mass. + +And yet, what had the young man done? And in what had the System +failed? + +The lady could not but ask herself this, while she condoled with the +offended father. + +"My friend," she said, tenderly taking his hand before she retired, +"I know how deeply you must be grieved. I know what your +disappointment must be. I do not beg of you to forgive him now. You +cannot doubt his love for this young person, and according to his +light, has he not behaved honourably, and as you would have wished, +rather than bring her to shame? You will think of that. It has been +an accident--a misfortune--a terrible misfortune".... + +"The God of this world is in the machine--not out of it," Sir Austin +interrupted her, and pressed her hand to get the good-night over. + +At any other time her mind would have been arrested to admire the +phrase; now it seemed perverse, vain, false, and she was tempted to +turn the meaning that was in it against himself, much as she pitied +him. + +"You know, Emmeline," he added, "I believe very little in the +fortune, or misfortune, to which men attribute their successes and +reverses. They are useful impersonations to novelists; but my +opinion is sufficiently high of flesh and blood to believe that we +make our own history without intervention. Accidents?--Terrible +misfortunes?--What are they?--Good-night." + +"Good-night," she said, looking sad and troubled. "When I said, +'misfortune,' I meant, of course, that he is to blame, but--shall I +leave you his letter to me?" + +"I think I have enough to meditate upon," he replied, coldly bowing. + +"God bless you," she whispered. "And--may I say it? do not shut your +heart." + +He assured her that he hoped not to do so, and the moment she was +gone he set about shutting it as tight as he could. + +If, instead of saying, Base no system on a human being, he had said, +Never experimentalize with one, he would have been nearer the truth +of his own case. He had experimented on humanity in the person of +the son he loved as his life, and at once, when the experiment +appeared to have failed, all humanity's failings fell on the +shoulders of his son. Richard's parting laugh in the train--it was +explicable now: it sounded in his ears like the mockery of this base +nature of ours at every endeavor to exalt and chasten it. The young +man had plotted this. From step to step Sir Austin traced the plot. +The curious mask he had worn since his illness; the selection of his +incapable uncle Hippias for a companion in preference to Adrian; it +was an evident, well-perfected plot. That hideous laugh would not be +silenced. Base, like the rest, treacherous, a creature of passions +using his abilities solely to gratify them--never surely had +humanity such chances as in him! A Manichaean tendency, from which +the sententious eulogist of nature had been struggling for years +(and which was partly at the bottom of the System), now began to +cloud and usurp dominion of his mind. As he sat alone in the forlorn +dead-hush of his library, he saw the devil. + +How are we to know when we are at the head and fountain of the fates +of them we love? + +There by the springs of Richard's future, his father sat: and the +devil said to him: "Only be quiet: do nothing: resolutely do +nothing: your object now is to keep a brave face to the world, so +that all may know you superior to this human nature that has +deceived you. For it is the shameless deception, not the marriage, +that has wounded you." + +"Ay!" answered the baronet, "the shameless deception, not the +marriage: wicked and ruinous as it must be; a destroyer of my +tenderest hopes! my dearest schemes! Not the marriage--the shameless +deception!" and he crumpled up his son's letter to him, and tossed +it into the fire. + +How are we to distinguish the dark chief of the Manichaeans when he +talks our own thoughts to us? + +Further he whispered, "And your System:--if you would be brave to +the world, have courage to cast the dream of it out of you: +relinquish an impossible project; see it as it is--dead: too good +for men!" + +"Ay!" muttered the baronet: "all who would save them perish on the +Cross!" + +And so he sat nursing the devil. + +By and by he took his lamp, and put on the old cloak and cap, and +went to gaze at Ripton. That exhausted debauchee and youth without a +destiny slept a dead sleep. A handkerchief was bound about his +forehead, and his helpless sunken chin and snoring nose projected up +the pillow, made him look absurdly piteous. The baronet remembered +how often he had compared his boy with this one: his own bright boy! +And where was the difference between them? + +"Mere outward gilding!" said his familiar. + +"Yes," he responded, "I daresay this one never positively plotted to +deceive his father: he followed his appetites unchecked, and is +internally the sounder of the two." + +Ripton, with his sunken chin and snoring nose under the light of the +lamp, stood for human nature, honest, however abject. + +"Miss Random, I fear very much, is a necessary establishment!" +whispered the monitor. + +"Does the evil in us demand its natural food, or it corrupts the +whole?" ejaculated Sir Austin. "And is no angel of avail till that +is drawn off? And is that our conflict--to see whether we can escape +the contagion of its embrace, and come uncorrupted out of that?" + +"The world is wise in its way," said the voice. + +"Though it look on itself through Port wine?" he suggested, +remembering his lawyer Thompson. + +"Wise in not seeking to be too wise," said the voice. + +"And getting intoxicated on its drug of comfort!" + +"Human nature is weak." + +"And Miss Random is an establishment, and Wild Oats an institution!" + +"It always has been so." + +"And always will be?" + +"So I fear! in spite of your very noble efforts." + +"And leads--whither? And ends--where?" + +Richard's laugh, taken up by horrid reverberations, as it were +through the lengths of the Lower Halls, replied. + +This colloquy of two voices in a brain was concluded by Sir Austin +asking again if there were no actual difference between the flower +of his hopes and yonder drunken weed, and receiving for answer that +there was a decided dissimilarity in the smell of the couple; +becoming cognizant of which he retreated. + +Sir Austin did not battle with the tempter. He took him into his +bosom at once, as if he had been ripe for him, and received his +suggestions and bowed to his dictates. Because he suffered, and +decreed that he would suffer silently, and be the only sufferer, it +seemed to him that he was great-minded in his calamity. He had stood +against the world. The world had beaten him. What then? He must shut +his heart and mask his face; that was all. To be far in advance of +the mass, is as fruitless to mankind, he reflected, as straggling in +the rear. For how do we know that they move behind us at all, or +move in our track? What we win for them is lost; and where we are +overthrown we lie! + +It was thus that a fine mind and a fine heart at the bounds of a +nature not great, chose to colour his retrogression and countenance +his shortcoming; and it was thus that he set about ruining the work +he had done. He might well say, as he once did, that there are hours +when the clearest soul becomes a cunning fox. For a grief that was +private and peculiar, he unhesitatingly cast the blame upon +humanity; just as he had accused it in the period of what he termed +his own ordeal. How had he borne that? By masking his face. And he +prepared the ordeal for his son by doing the same. This was by no +means his idea of a man's duty in tribulation, about which he could +be strenuously eloquent. But it was his instinct so to act, and in +times of trial great natures alone are not at the mercy of their +instincts. Moreover it would cost him pain to mask his face; pain +worse than that he endured when there still remained an object for +him to open his heart to in proportion; and he always reposed upon +the Spartan comfort of bearing pain and being passive. "Do nothing," +said the devil he nursed; which meant in his case, "Take me into you +and don't cast me out." Excellent and sane is the outburst of wrath +to men, when it stops short of slaughter. For who that locks it up +to eat in solitary, can say that it is consumed? Sir Austin had as +weak a digestion for wrath, as poor Hippias for a green duckling. +Instead of eating it, it ate him. The wild beast in him was not the +less deadly because it did not roar, and the devil in him not the +less active because he resolved to do nothing. + +He sat at the springs of Richard's future, in the forlorn dead-hush +of his library there, hearing the cinders click in the extinguished +fire, and that humming stillness in which one may fancy one hears +the midnight Fates busily stirring their embryos. The lamp glowed +mildly on the bust of Chatham. + +Toward morning a gentle knock fell at his door. Lady Blandish glided +in. With hasty step she came straight to him, and took both his +hands. + +"My friend," she said, speaking tearfully, and trembling, "I feared +I should find you here. I could not sleep. How is it with you?" + +"Well! Emmeline, well!" he replied, torturing his brows to fix the +mask. + +He wished it had been Adrian who had come to him. He had an +extraordinary longing for Adrian's society. He knew that the wise +youth would divine how to treat him, and he mentally confessed to +just enough weakness to demand a certain kind of management. +Besides, Adrian, he had not a doubt, would accept him entirely as he +seemed, and not pester him in any way by trying to unlock his heart; +whereas a woman, he feared, would be waxing too womanly, and +swelling from tears and supplications to a scene, of all things +abhorred by him the most. So he rapped the floor with his foot, and +gave the lady no very welcome face when he said it was well with +him. + +She sat down by his side, still holding one hand firmly, and softly +detaining the other. + +"Oh, my friend! may I believe you? May I speak to you?" She leaned +close to him. "You know my heart. I have no better ambition than to +be your friend. Surely I divide your grief, and may I not claim your +confidence? Who has wept more over your great and dreadful sorrows? +I would not have come to you, but I do believe that sorrow shared +relieves the burden, and it is now that you may feel a woman's aid, +and something of what a woman could be to you." ... + +"Be assured," he gravely said, "I thank you, Emmeline, for your +intentions." + +"No, no! not for my intentions! And do not thank me. Think of him ... +think of your dear boy.... Our Richard, as we have called him.--Oh! +do not think it a foolish superstition of mine, but I have had a +thought this night that has kept me in torment till I rose to speak +to you.... Tell me first you have forgiven him." + +"A father bears no malice to his son, Emmeline." + +"Your heart has forgiven him?" + +"My heart has taken what he gave." + +"And quite forgiven him?" + +"You will hear no complaints of mine." + +The lady paused despondingly, and looked at him in a wistful manner, +saying with a sigh, "Yes! I know how noble you are, and different +from others!" + +He drew one of his hands from her relaxed hold. + +"You ought to be in bed, Emmeline." + +"I cannot sleep." + +"Go, and talk to me another time." + +"No, it must be now. You have helped me when I struggled to rise +into a clearer world, and I think, humble as I am, I can help you +now. I have had a thought this night that if you do not pray for him +and bless him ... it will end miserably. My friend, have you done +so?" + +He was stung and offended, and could hardly help showing it in spite +of his mask. + +"Have you done so, Austin?" + +"This is assuredly a new way of committing fathers to the follies of +their sons, Emmeline!" + +"No, not that. But will you pray for your boy, and bless him, before +the day comes?" + +He restrained himself to pronounce his words calmly:--"And I must do +this, or it will end in misery? How else can it end? Can I save him +from the seed he has sown? Consider, Emmeline, what you say. He has +repeated his cousin's sin. You see the end of that."... + +"Oh, so different! This young person is _not_, is _not_ of the class +poor Austin Wentworth allied himself to. Indeed it is different. And +he--be just and admit his nobleness. I fancied you did. This young +person has great beauty, she has the elements of good breeding, +she--indeed I think, had she been in another position, you would not +have looked upon her unfavourably." + +"She may be too good for my son!" The baronet spoke with sublime +bitterness. + +"No woman is too good for Richard, and you know it." + +"Pass her." + +"Yes, I will speak only of him. He met her by a fatal accident. We +thought his love dead, and so did he till he saw her again. He met +her, he thought we were plotting against him, he thought he should +lose her for ever, and in the madness of an hour he did this." ... + +"My Emmeline pleads bravely for clandestine matches." + +"Ah! do not trifle, my friend. Say: would you have had him act as +young men in his position generally do to young women beneath them?" + +Sir Austin did not like the question. It probed him very severely. + +"You mean," he said, "that fathers must fold their arms, and either +submit to infamous marriages, or have these creatures ruined." + +"I do _not_ mean that," exclaimed the lady, striving for what she +did mean, and how to express it. "I mean that ... he loved her. Is +it not a madness at his age? But what I chiefly mean is--save him +from the consequences. No, you shall not withdraw your hand. Think +of his pride, his sensitiveness, his great wild nature--wild when he +is set wrong: think how intense it is, set upon love; think, my +friend, do not forget his love for you." + +Sir Austin smiled an admirable smile of pity. + +"That I should save him, or any one, from consequences, is asking +more than the order of things will allow to you, Emmeline, and is +not in the disposition of this world. I cannot. Consequences are the +natural offspring of acts. My child, you are talking sentiment, +which is the distraction of our modern age in everything--a +phantasmal vapour distorting the image of the life we live. You ask +me to give him a golden age in spite of himself. All that could be +done, by keeping him in the paths of virtue and truth, I did. He is +become a man, and as a man he must reap his own sowing." + +The baffled lady sighed. He sat so rigid: he spoke so securely, as +if wisdom were to him more than the love of his son. And yet he did +love his son. Feeling sure that he loved his son while he spoke so +loftily, she reverenced him still, baffled as she was, and sensible +that she had been quibbled with. + +"All I ask of you is to open your heart to him," she said. + +He kept silent. + +"Call him a man,--he is, and must ever be the child of your +education, my friend." + +"You would console me, Emmeline, with the prospect that, if he ruins +himself, he spares the world of young women. Yes, that is +something!" + +Closely she scanned the mask. It was impenetrable. He could meet her +eyes, and respond to the pressure of her hand, and smile, and not +show what he felt. Nor did he deem it hypocritical to seek to +maintain his elevation in her soft soul, by simulating supreme +philosophy over offended love. Nor did he know that he had an angel +with him then: a blind angel, and a weak one, but one who struck +upon his chance. + +"Am I pardoned for coming to you?" she said, after a pause. + +"Surely I can read my Emmeline's intentions," he gently replied. + +"Very poor ones. I feel my weakness. I cannot utter half I have been +thinking. Oh, if I could!" + +"You speak very well, Emmeline." + +"At least, I am pardoned!" + +"Surely so." + +"And before I leave you, dear friend, shall I be forgiven?--may I +beg it?--will you bless him?" + +He was again silent. + +"Pray for him, Austin! pray for him ere the night is over." + +As she spoke she slid down to his feet and pressed his hand to her +bosom. + +The baronet was startled. In very dread of the soft fit that wooed +him, he pushed back his chair, and rose, and went to the window. + +"It's day already!" he said with assumed vivacity, throwing open the +shutters, and displaying the young light on the lawn. + +Lady Blandish dried her tears as she knelt, and then joined him, and +glanced up silently at Richard's moon standing in wane toward the +West. She hoped it was because of her having been premature in +pleading so earnestly, that she had failed to move him, and she +accused herself more than the baronet. But in acting as she had +done, she had treated him as no common man, and she was compelled to +perceive that his heart was at present hardly superior to the hearts +of ordinary men, however composed his face might be, and apparently +serene his wisdom. From that moment she grew critical of him, and +began to study her idol--a process dangerous to idols. He, now that +she seemed to have relinquished the painful subject, drew to her, +and as one who wished to smooth a foregone roughness, murmured: +"God's rarest blessing is, after all, a good woman! My Emmeline +bears her sleepless night well. She does not shame the day." He +gazed down on her with a fondling tenderness. + +"I could bear many, many!" she replied, meeting his eyes, "and you +would see me look better and better, if ... if only ..." but she had +no encouragement to end the sentence. + +Perhaps he wanted some mute form of consolation; perhaps the +handsome placid features of the dark-eyed dame touched him: at any +rate their Platonism was advanced by his putting an arm about her. +She felt the arm and talked of the morning. + +Thus proximate, they by and by both heard something very like a +groan behind them, and looking round, beheld the Saurian eye. Lady +Blandish smiled, but the baronet's discomposure was not to be +concealed. By a strange fatality every stage of their innocent loves +was certain to have a human beholder. + +"Oh, I'm sure I beg pardon," Benson mumbled, arresting his head in a +melancholy pendulosity. He was ordered out of the room. + +"And I think I shall follow him, and try to get forty winks," said +Lady Blandish. They parted with a quiet squeeze of hands. + +The baronet then called in Benson. + +"Get me my breakfast as soon as you can," he said, regardless of the +aspect of injured conscience Benson sombrely presented to him. "I am +going to town early. And, Benson," he added, "you will also go to +town this afternoon, or to-morrow, if it suits you, and take your +book with you to Mr. Thompson. You will not return here. A provision +will be made for you. You can go." + +The heavy butler essayed to speak, but the tremendous blow and the +baronet's gesture choked him. At the door he made another effort +which shook the rolls of his loose skin pitiably. An impatient +signal sent him out dumb,--and Raynham was quit of the one believer +in the Great Shaddock dogma. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +CONQUEST OF AN EPICURE + + +It was the month of July. The Solent ran up green waves before a +full-blowing South-wester. Gay little yachts bounded out like foam, +and flashed their sails, light as sea-nymphs. A crown of deep Summer +blue topped the flying mountains of cloud. + +By an open window that looked on the brine through nodding roses, +our young bridal pair were at breakfast, regaling worthily, both of +them. Had the Scientific Humanist observed them, he could not have +contested the fact, that as a couple who had set up to be father and +mother of Britons, they were doing their duty. Files of egg-cups +with disintegrated shells bore witness to it, and they were still at +work, hardly talking from rapidity of exercise. Both were dressed +for an expedition. She had her bonnet on, and he his yachting-hat. +His sleeves were turned over at the wrists, and her gown showed its +lining on her lap. At times a chance word might spring a laugh, but +eating was the business of the hour, as I would have you to know it +always will be where Cupid is in earnest. Tribute flowed in to them +from the subject land. Neglected lies Love's penny-whistle on which +they played so prettily and charmed the spheres to hear them. What +do they care for the spheres, who have one another? Come, eggs! +come, bread and butter! come, tea with sugar in it and milk! and +welcome, the jolly hours. That is a fair interpretation of the music +in them just now. Yonder instrument was good only for the overture. +After all, what finer aspiration can lovers have, than to be free +man and woman in the heart of plenty? And is it not a glorious level +to have attained? Ah, wretched Scientific Humanist! not to be by and +mark the admirable sight of these young creatures feeding. It would +have been a spell to exorcise the Manichee, methinks. + +The mighty performance came to an end, and then, with a flourish of +his table-napkin, husband stood over wife, who met him on the +confident budding of her mouth. The poetry of mortals is their daily +prose. Is it not a glorious level to have attained? A short, +quick-blooded kiss, radiant, fresh, and honest as Aurora, and then +Richard says without lack of cheer, "No letter to-day, my Lucy!" +whereat her sweet eyes dwell on him a little seriously, but he +cries, "Never mind! he'll be coming down himself some morning. He +has only to know her, and all's well! eh?" and so saying he puts a +hand beneath her chin, and seems to frame her fair face in fancy, +she smiling up to be looked at. + +"But one thing I do want to ask my darling," says Lucy, and dropped +into his bosom with hands of petition. "Take me on board his yacht +with him to-day--not leave me with those people! Will he? I'm a good +sailor, he knows!" + +"The best afloat!" laughs Richard, hugging her, "but, you know, you +darling bit of a sailor, they don't allow more than a certain number +on board for the race, and if they hear you've been with me, +there'll be cries of foul play! Besides, there's Lady Judith to talk +to you about Austin, and Lord Mountfalcon's compliments for you to +listen to, and Mr. Morton to take care of you." + +Lucy's eyes fixed sideways an instant. + +"I hope I don't frown and blush as I did?" she said, screwing her +pliable brows up to him winningly, and he bent his cheek against +hers, and murmured something delicious. + +"And we shall be separated for--how many hours? one, two, three +hours!" she pouted to his flatteries. + +"And then I shall come on board to receive my bride's +congratulations." + +"And then my husband will talk all the time to Lady Judith." + +"And then I shall see my wife frowning and blushing at Lord +Mountfalcon." + +"Am I so foolish, Richard?" she forgot her trifling to ask in an +earnest way, and had another Aurorean kiss, just brushing the dew on +her lips, for answer. + +After hiding a month in shyest shade, the pair of happy sinners had +wandered forth one day to look on men and marvel at them, and had +chanced to meet Mr. Morton of Poer Hall, Austin Wentworth's friend, +and Ralph's uncle. Mr. Morton had once been intimate with the +baronet, but had given him up for many years as impracticable and +hopeless, for which reason he was the more inclined to regard +Richard's misdemeanour charitably, and to lay the faults of the son +on the father; and thinking society to be the one thing requisite to +the young man, he had introduced him to the people he knew in the +island; among others to the Lady Judith Felle, a fair young dame, +who introduced him to Lord Mountfalcon, a puissant nobleman; who +introduced him to the yachtsmen beginning to congregate; so that in +a few weeks he found himself in the centre of a brilliant company, +and for the first time in his life tasted what it was to have free +intercourse with his fellow-creatures of both sexes. The son of a +System was, therefore, launched; not only through the surf, but in +deep waters. + +Now the baronet had so far compromised between the recurrence of his +softer feelings and the suggestions of his new familiar, that he had +determined to act toward Richard with justness. The world called it +magnanimity, and even Lady Blandish had some thoughts of the same +kind when she heard that he had decreed to Richard a handsome +allowance, and had scouted Mrs. Doria's proposal for him to contest +the legality of the marriage; but Sir Austin knew well he was simply +just in not withholding money from a youth so situated. And here +again the world deceived him by embellishing his conduct. For what +is it to be just to whom we love! He knew it was not magnanimous, +but the cry of the world somehow fortified him in the conceit that +in dealing perfect justice to his son he was doing all that was +possible, because so much more than common fathers would have done. +He had shut his heart. + +Consequently Richard did not want money. What he wanted more, and +did not get, was a word from his father, and though he said nothing +to sadden his young bride, she felt how much it preyed upon him to +be at variance with the man whom, now that he had offended him and +gone against him, he would have fallen on his knees to; the man who +was as no other man to him. She heard him of nights when she lay by +his side, and the darkness, and the broken mutterings, of those +nights clothed the figure of the strange stern man in her mind. Not +that it affected the appetites of the pretty pair. We must not +expect that of Cupid enthroned and in condition; under the influence +of sea-air, too. The files of egg-cups laugh at such an idea. Still +the worm did gnaw them. Judge, then, of their delight when, on this +pleasant morning, as they were issuing from the garden of their +cottage to go down to the sea, they caught sight of Tom Bakewell +rushing up the road with a portmanteau on his shoulders, and, some +distance behind him, discerned Adrian. + +"It's all right!" shouted Richard, and ran off to meet him, and +never left his hand till he had hauled him up, firing questions at +him all the way, to where Lucy stood. + +"Lucy! this is Adrian, my cousin."--"Isn't he an angel?" his eyes +seemed to add; while Lucy's clearly answered, "That he is!" + +The full-bodied angel ceremoniously bowed to her, and acted with +reserved unction the benefactor he saw in their greetings. "I think +we are not strangers," he was good enough to remark, and very +quickly let them know he had not breakfasted; on hearing which they +hurried him into the house, and Lucy put herself in motion to have +him served. + +"Dear old Rady," said Richard, tugging at his hand again, "how glad +I am you've come! I don't mind telling you we've been horridly +wretched." + +"Six, seven, eight, nine eggs," was Adrian's comment on a survey of +the breakfast-table. + +"Why wouldn't he write? Why didn't he answer one of my letters? But +here you are, so I don't mind now. He wants to see us, does he? +We'll go up to-night. I've a match on at eleven; my little +yacht--I've called her the 'Blandish'--against Fred Currie's +'Begum.' I shall beat, but whether I do or not, we'll go up +to-night. What's the news? What are they all doing?" + +"My dear boy!" Adrian returned, sitting comfortably down, "let me +put myself a little more on an equal footing with you before I +undertake to reply. Half that number of eggs will be sufficient for +an unmarried man, and then we'll talk. They're all very well, as +well as I can recollect after the shaking my total vacuity has had +this morning. I came over by the first boat, and the sea, the sea +has made me love mother earth, and desire of her fruits." + +Richard fretted restlessly opposite his cool relative. + +"Adrian! what did he say when he heard of it? I want to know exactly +what words he said." + +"Well says the sage, my son! 'Speech is the small change of +Silence.' He said less than I do." + +"That's how he took it!" cried Richard, and plunged in meditation. + +Soon the table was cleared, and laid out afresh, and Lucy preceded +the maid bearing eggs on the tray, and sat down unbonneted, and like +a thorough-bred housewife, to pour out the tea for him. + +"Now, we'll commence," said Adrian, tapping his egg with meditative +cheerfulness; but his expression soon changed to one of pain, all +the more alarming for his benevolent efforts to conceal it. Could it +be possible the egg was bad? oh, horror! Lucy watched him, and +waited in trepidation. + +"This egg has boiled three minutes and three-quarters," he observed, +ceasing to contemplate it. + +"Dear, dear!" said Lucy, "I boiled them myself exactly that time. +Richard likes them so. And you like them hard, Mr. Harley?" + +"On the contrary, I like them soft. Two minutes and a half, or +three-quarters at the outside. An egg should never rashly verge upon +hardness--never. Three minutes is the excess of temerity." + +"If Richard had told me! If I had only known!" the lovely little +hostess interjected ruefully, biting her lip. + +"We mustn't expect him to pay attention to such matters," said +Adrian, trying to smile. + +"Hang it! there are more eggs in the house," cried Richard, and +pulled savagely at the bell. + +Lucy jumped up, saying, "Oh, yes! I will go and boil some exactly +the time you like. Pray let me go, Mr. Harley." + +Adrian restrained her departure with a motion of his hand. "No," he +said, "I will be ruled by Richard's tastes, and heaven grant me his +digestion!" + +Lucy threw a sad look at Richard, who stretched on a sofa, and left +the burden of the entertainment entirely to her. The eggs were a +melancholy beginning, but her ardour to please Adrian would not be +damped, and she deeply admired his resignation. If she failed in +pleasing this glorious herald of peace, no matter by what small +misadventure, she apprehended calamity; so there sat this fair dove +with brows at work above her serious smiling blue eyes, covertly +studying every aspect of the plump-faced epicure, that she might +learn to propitiate him. "He shall not think me timid and stupid," +thought this brave girl, and indeed Adrian was astonished to find +that she could both chat and be useful, as well as look ornamental. +When he had finished one egg, behold, two fresh ones came in, boiled +according to his prescription. She had quietly given her orders to +the maid, and he had them without fuss. Possibly his look of dismay +at the offending eggs had not been altogether involuntary, and her +woman's instinct, inexperienced as she was, may have told her that +he had come prepared to be not very well satisfied with anything in +Love's cottage. There was mental faculty in those pliable brows to +see through, and combat, an unwitting wise youth. + +How much she had achieved already she partly divined when Adrian +said: "I think now I'm in case to answer your questions, my dear +boy--thanks to Mrs. Richard," and he bowed to her his first direct +acknowledgment of her position. Lucy thrilled with pleasure. + +"Ah!" cried Richard, and settled easily on his back. + +"To begin, the Pilgrim has lost his Note-book, and has been +persuaded to offer a reward which shall maintain the happy finder +thereof in an asylum for life. Benson--superlative Benson--has +turned his shoulders upon Raynham. None know whither he has +departed. It is believed that the sole surviving member of the sect +of the Shaddock-Dogmatists is under a total eclipse of Woman." + +"Benson gone?" Richard exclaimed. "What a tremendous time it seems +since I left Raynham!" + +"So it is, my dear boy. The honeymoon is Mahomet's minute; or say, +the Persian King's water-pail that you read of in the story: You dip +your head in it, and when you draw it out, you discover that you +have lived a life. To resume: your uncle Algernon still roams in +pursuit of the lost one--I should say, hops. Your uncle Hippias has +a new and most perplexing symptom: a determination of bride-cake to +the nose. Ever since your generous present to him, though he +declares he never consumed a morsel of it, he has been under the +distressing illusion that his nose is enormous, and I assure you he +exhibits quite a maidenly timidity in following it--through a +doorway, for instance. He complains of its terrible weight. I have +conceived that Benson invisible might be sitting on it. His hand, +and the doctor's, are in hourly consultation with it, but I fear it +will not grow smaller. The Pilgrim has begotten upon it a new +Aphorism: that Size is a matter of opinion." + +"Poor uncle Hippy!" said Richard, "I wonder he doesn't believe in +magic. There's nothing supernatural to rival the wonderful +sensations he does believe in. Good God! fancy coming to that!" + +"I'm sure I'm very sorry," Lucy protested, "but I can't help +laughing." + +Charming to the wise youth her pretty laughter sounded. + +"The Pilgrim has your notion, Richard. Whom does he not forestall? +'Confirmed dyspepsia is the apparatus of illusions,' and he accuses +the Ages that put faith in sorcery, of universal indigestion, which +may have been the case, owing to their infamous cookery. He says +again, if you remember, that our own Age is travelling back to +darkness and ignorance through dyspepsia. He lays the seat of wisdom +in the centre of our system, Mrs. Richard: for which reason you will +understand how sensible I am of the vast obligation I am under to +you at the present moment, for your especial care of mine." + +Richard looked on at Lucy's little triumph, attributing Adrian's +subjugation to her beauty and sweetness. She had latterly received a +great many compliments on that score, which she did not care to +hear, and Adrian's homage to a practical quality was far pleasanter +to the young wife, who shrewdly guessed that her beauty would not +help her much in the struggle she had now to maintain. Adrian +continuing to lecture on the excelling virtues of wise cookery, a +thought struck her: Where, where had she tossed Mrs. Berry's book? + +"So that's all about the home-people?" said Richard. + +"All!" replied Adrian. "Or stay: you know Clare's going to be +married? Not? Your Aunt Helen"---- + +"Oh, bother my Aunt Helen! What do you think she had the +impertinence to write--but never mind! Is it to Ralph?" + +"Your Aunt Helen, I was going to say, my dear boy, is an +extraordinary woman. It was from her originally that the Pilgrim +first learnt to call the female the practical animal. He studies us +all, you know. THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP is the abstract portraiture of +his surrounding relatives. Well, your Aunt Helen"---- + +"Mrs. Doria Battledoria!" laughed Richard. + +"----being foiled in a little pet scheme of her own--call it a +System if you like--of some ten or fifteen years' standing, with +regard to Miss Clare!"---- + +"The fair Shuttlecockiana!" + +"----instead of fretting like a man, and questioning Providence, and +turning herself and everybody else inside out, and seeing the world +upside down, what does the practical animal do? She wanted to marry +her to somebody she couldn't marry her to, so she resolved instantly +to marry her to somebody she could marry her to: and as old +gentlemen enter into these transactions with the practical animal +the most readily, she fixed upon an old gentleman; an unmarried old +gentleman, a rich old gentleman, and now a captive old gentleman. +The ceremony takes place in about a week from the present time. No +doubt you will receive your invitation in a day or two." + +"And that cold, icy, wretched Clare has consented to marry an old +man!" groaned Richard. "I'll put a stop to that when I go to town." + +Richard got up and strode about the room. Then he bethought him it +was time to go on board and make preparations. + +"I'm off," he said. "Adrian, you'll take her. She goes in the Empress, +Mountfalcon's vessel. He starts us. A little schooner-yacht--such a +beauty! I'll have one like her some day. Good-bye, darling!" he +whispered to Lucy, and his hand and eyes lingered on her, and hers on +him, seeking to make up for the priceless kiss they were debarred +from. But she quickly looked away from him as he held her:--Adrian +stood silent: his brows were up, and his mouth dubiously contracted. +He spoke at last. + +"Go on the water?" + +"Yes. It's only to St. Helen's. Short and sharp." + +"Do you grudge me the nourishment my poor system has just received, +my son?" + +"Oh, bother your system! Put on your hat, and come along. I'll put +you on board in my boat." + +"Richard! I have already paid the penalty of them who are condemned +to come to an island. I will go with you to the edge of the sea, and +I will meet you there when you return, and take up the Tale of the +Tritons: but, though I forfeit the pleasure of Mrs. Richard's +company, I refuse to quit the land." + +"Yes, oh, Mr. Harley!" Lucy broke from her husband, "and I will stay +with you, if you please. I don't want to go among those people, and +we can see it all from the shore. Dearest! I don't want to go. You +don't mind? Of course, I will go if you wish, but I would so much +rather stay;" and she lengthened her plea in her attitude and look +to melt the discontent she saw gathering. + +Adrian protested that she had much better go; that he could amuse +himself very well till their return, and so forth; but she had +schemes in her pretty head, and held to it to be allowed to stay in +spite of Lord Mountfalcon's disappointment, cited by Richard, and at +the great risk of vexing her darling, as she saw. Richard pished, +and glanced contemptuously at Adrian. He gave way ungraciously. + +"There, do as you like. Get your things ready to leave this evening. +No, I'm not angry."--Who could be? he seemed as he looked up from +her modest fondling to ask Adrian, and seized the indemnity of a +kiss on her forehead, which, however, did not immediately disperse +the shade of annoyance he felt. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "Such a day as this, and a fellow +refuses to come on the water! Well, come along to the edge of the +sea." Adrian's angelic quality had quite worn off to him. He never +thought of devoting himself to make the most of the material there +was: but somebody else did, and that fair somebody succeeded +wonderfully in a few short hours. She induced Adrian to reflect that +the baronet had only to see her, and the family muddle would be +smoothed at once. He came to it by degrees; still the gradations +were rapid. Her manner he liked; she was certainly a nice picture: +best of all, she was sensible. He forgot the farmer's niece in her, +she was so very sensible. She appeared really to understand that it +was a woman's duty to know how to cook. + +But the difficulty was, by what means the baronet could be brought +to consent to see her. He had not yet consented to see his son, and +Adrian, spurred by Lady Blandish, had ventured something in coming +down. He was not inclined to venture more. The small debate in his +mind ended by his throwing the burden on time. Time would bring the +matter about. Christians as well as Pagans are in the habit of +phrasing this excuse for folding their arms; "forgetful," says THE +PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "that the devil's imps enter into no such +armistice." + +As she loitered along the shore with her amusing companion, Lucy had +many things to think of. There was her darling's match. The yachts +were started by pistol-shot by Lord Mountfalcon on board the +Empress, and her little heart beat after Richard's straining sails. +Then there was the strangeness of walking with a relative of +Richard's, one who had lived by his side so long. And the thought +that perhaps this night she would have to appear before the dreaded +father of her husband. + +"O Mr. Harley!" she said, "is it true--are we to go to-night? And +me," she faltered, "will he see me?" + +"Ah! that is what I wanted to talk to you about," said Adrian. "I +made some reply to our dear boy which he has slightly misinterpreted. +Our second person plural is liable to misconstruction by an ardent +mind. I said 'see you,' and he supposed--now, Mrs. Richard, I am +sure you will understand me. Just at present perhaps it would be +advisable--when the father and son have settled their accounts, the +daughter-in-law can't be a debtor."... + +Lucy threw up her blue eyes. A half-cowardly delight at the chance +of a respite from the awful interview made her quickly apprehensive. + +"O Mr. Harley! you think he should go alone first?" + +"Well, that is my notion. But the fact is, he is such an excellent +husband that I fancy it will require more than a man's power of +persuasion to get him to go." + +"But I will persuade him, Mr. Harley." + +"Perhaps, if you would...." + +"There is nothing I would not do for his happiness," murmured Lucy. + +The wise youth pressed her hand with lymphatic approbation. They +walked on till the yachts had rounded the point. + +"Is it to-night, Mr. Harley?" she asked with some trouble in her +voice now that her darling was out of sight. + +"I don't imagine your eloquence even will get him to leave you +to-night," Adrian replied gallantly. "Besides, I must speak for +myself. To achieve the passage to an island is enough for one day. +No necessity exists for any hurry, except in the brain of that +impetuous boy. You must correct it, Mrs. Richard. Men are made to be +managed, and women are born managers. Now, if you were to let him +know that you don't want to go to-night, and let him guess, after a +day or two, that you would very much rather ... you might affect a +peculiar repugnance. By taking it on yourself, you see, this wild +young man will not require such frightful efforts of persuasion. +Both his father and he are exceedingly delicate subjects, and his +father unfortunately is not in a position to be managed directly. +It's a strange office to propose to you, but it appears to devolve +upon you to manage the father through the son. Prodigal having made +his peace, you, who have done all the work from a distance, +naturally come into the circle of the paternal smile, knowing it due +to you. I see no other way. If Richard suspects that his father +objects for the present to welcome his daughter-in-law, hostilities +will be continued, the breach will be widened, bad will grow to +worse, and I see no end to it." + +Adrian looked in her face, as much as to say: Now are you capable of +this piece of heroism? And it did seem hard to her that she should +have to tell Richard she shrank from any trial. But the proposition +chimed in with her fears and her wishes: she thought the wise youth +very wise: the poor child was not insensible to his flattery, and +the subtler flattery of making herself in some measure a sacrifice +to the home she had disturbed. She agreed to simulate as Adrian had +suggested. + +Victory is the commonest heritage of the hero, and when Richard came +on shore proclaiming that the Blandish had beaten the Begum by seven +minutes and three-quarters, he was hastily kissed and congratulated +by his bride with her fingers among the leaves of Dr. Kitchener, and +anxiously questioned about wine. + +"Dearest! Mr. Harley wants to stay with us a little, and he thinks +we ought not to go immediately--that is, before he has had some +letters, and I feel ... I would so much rather...." + +"Ah! that's it, you coward!" said Richard. "Well, then, to-morrow. +We had a splendid race. Did you see us?" + +"Oh, yes! I saw you and was sure my darling would win." And again +she threw on him the cold water of that solicitude about wine. "Mr. +Harley must have the best, you know, and we never drink it, and I'm +so silly, I don't know good wine, and if you would send Tom where he +can get _good_ wine. I have seen to the dinner." + +"So that's why you didn't come to meet me?" + +"Pardon me, darling." + +"Well, I do, but Mountfalcon doesn't, and Lady Judith thinks you +ought to have been there." + +"Ah, but my heart was with you!" + +Richard put his hand to feel for the little heart: her eyelids +softened, and she ran away. + +It is to say much of the dinner that Adrian found no fault with it, +and was in perfect good humour at the conclusion of the service. He +did not abuse the wine they were able to procure for him, which was +also much. The coffee, too, had the honour of passing without +comment. These were sound first steps toward the conquest of an +epicure, and as yet Cupid did not grumble. + +After coffee they strolled out to see the sun set from Lady Judith's +grounds. The wind had dropped. The clouds had rolled from the +zenith, and ranged in amphitheatre with distant flushed bodies over +sea and land: Titanic crimson head and chest rising from the wave +faced Hyperion falling. There hung Briareus with deep-indented trunk +and ravined brows, stretching all his hands up to unattainable blue +summits. North-west the range had a rich white glow, as if shining +to the moon, and westward, streams of amber, melting into upper +rose, shot out from the dipping disk. + +"What Sandoe calls the passion-flower of heaven," said Richard under +his breath to Adrian, who was serenely chanting Greek hexameters, +and answered, in the swing of the caesura, "He might as well have +said cauliflower." + +Lady Judith, with a black lace veil tied over her head, met them in +the walk. She was tall and dark; dark-haired, dark-eyed, sweet and +persuasive in her accent and manner. "A second edition of the +Blandish," thinks Adrian. She welcomed him as one who had claims on +her affability. She kissed Lucy protectingly, and remarking on the +wonders of the evening, appropriated her husband. Adrian and Lucy +found themselves walking behind them. + +The sun was under. All the spaces of the sky were alight, and +Richard's fancy flamed. + +"So you're not intoxicated with your immense triumph this morning?" +said Lady Judith. + +"Don't laugh at me. When it's over I feel ashamed of the trouble +I've taken. Look at that glory!--I'm sure you despise me for it." + +"Was I not there to applaud you? I only think such energies should +be turned into some definitely useful channel. But you must not go +into the Army." + +"What else can I do?" + +"You are fit for so much that is better." + +"I never can be anything like Austin." + +"But I think you can do more." + +"Well, I thank you for thinking it, Lady Judith. Something I will +do. A man must deserve to live, as you say." + +"Sauces," Adrian was heard to articulate distinctly in the rear, +"Sauces are the top tree of this science. A woman who has mastered +sauces sits on the apex of civilization." + +Briareus reddened duskily seaward. The West was all a burning rose. + +"How can men see such sights as those, and live idle?" Richard +resumed. "I feel ashamed of asking my men to work for me.--Or I feel +so now." + +"Not when you're racing the Begum, I think. There's no necessity for +you to turn democrat like Austin. Do you write now?" + +"No. What is writing like mine? It doesn't deceive me. I know it's +only the excuse I'm making to myself for remaining idle. I haven't +written a line since--lately." + +"Because you are so happy." + +"No, not because of that. Of course I'm very happy...." He did not +finish. + +Vague, shapeless ambition had replaced love in yonder skies. No +Scientific Humanist was by to study the natural development, and +guide him. This lady would hardly be deemed a very proper guide to +the undirected energies of the youth, yet they had established +relations of that nature. She was five years older than he, and a +woman, which may explain her serene presumption. + +The cloud-giants had broken up: a brawny shoulder smouldered over +the sea. + +"We'll work together in town, at all events," said Richard. "Why +can't we go about together at night and find out people who want +help?" + +Lady Judith smiled, and only corrected his nonsense by saying, "I +think we mustn't be too romantic. You will become a knight-errant, I +suppose. You have the characteristics of one." + +"Especially at breakfast," Adrian's unnecessarily emphatic +gastronomical lessons to the young wife here came in. + +"You must be our champion," continued Lady Judith: "the rescuer and +succourer of distressed dames and damsels. We want one badly." + +"You do," said Richard, earnestly: "from what I hear: from what I +know!" His thoughts flew off with him as knight-errant hailed +shrilly at exceeding critical moments by distressed dames and +damsels. Images of airy towers hung around. His fancy performed +miraculous feats. The towers crumbled. The stars grew larger, seemed +to throb with lustre. His fancy crumbled with the towers of the +air, his heart gave a leap, he turned to Lucy. + +"My darling! what have you been doing?" And as if to compensate her +for his little knight-errant infidelity, he pressed very tenderly to +her. + +"We have been engaged in a charming conversation on domestic +cookery," interposed Adrian. + +"Cookery! such an evening as this?" His face was a handsome likeness +of Hippias at the presentation of bride-cake. + +"Dearest! you know it's very useful," Lucy mirthfully pleaded. + +"Indeed I quite agree with you, child," said Lady Judith, "and I +think you have the laugh of us. I certainly will learn to cook some +day." + +"Woman's mission, in so many words," ejaculated Adrian. + +"And pray, what is man's?" + +"To taste thereof, and pronounce thereupon." + +"Let us give it up to them," said Lady Judith to Richard. "You and I +never will make so delightful and beautifully balanced a world of +it." + +Richard appeared to have grown perfectly willing to give everything +up to the fair face, his bridal Hesper. + +Next day Lucy had to act the coward anew, and, as she did so, her +heart sank to see how painfully it affected him that she should +hesitate to go with him to his father. He was patient, gentle; he +sat down by her side to appeal to her reason, and used all the +arguments he could think of to persuade her. + +"If we go together and make him see us both: if he sees he has +nothing to be ashamed of in you--rather everything to be proud of; +if you are only near him, you will not have to speak a word, and I'm +certain--as certain as that I live--that in a week we shall be +settled happily at Raynham. I know my father so well, Lucy. Nobody +knows him but I." + +Lucy asked whether Mr. Harley did not. + +"Adrian? Not a bit. Adrian only knows a part of people, Lucy; and +not the best part." + +Lucy was disposed to think more highly of the object of her +conquest. + +"Is it he that has been frightening you, Lucy?" + +"No, no, Richard; oh, dear no;" she cried, and looked at him more +tenderly because she was not quite truthful. + +"He doesn't know my father at all," said Richard. But Lucy had +another opinion of the wise youth, and secretly maintained it. She +could not be won to imagine the baronet a man of human mould, +generous, forgiving, full of passionate love at heart, as Richard +tried to picture him, and thought him, now that he beheld him again +through Adrian's embassy. To her he was that awful figure, shrouded +by the midnight. "Why are you so harsh?" she had heard Richard cry +more than once. She was sure that Adrian must be right. + +"Well, I tell you I won't go without you," said Richard, and Lucy +begged for a little more time. + +Cupid now began to grumble, and with cause. Adrian positively +refused to go on the water unless that element were smooth as a +plate. The South-west still joked boisterously at any comparison of +the sort; the days were magnificent; Richard had yachting +engagements; and Lucy always petitioned to stay to keep Adrian +company, conceiving it her duty as hostess. Arguing with Adrian was +an absurd idea. If Richard hinted at his retaining Lucy, the wise +youth would remark: "It's a wholesome interlude to your extremely +Cupidinous behaviour, my dear boy." + +Richard asked his wife what they could possibly find to talk about. + +"All manner of things," said Lucy; "not only cookery. He is so +amusing, though he does make fun of THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, and I think +he ought not. And then, do you know, darling--you won't think me +vain?--I think he is beginning to like me a little." + +Richard laughed at the humble mind of his Beauty. + +"Doesn't everybody like you, admire you? Doesn't Lord Mountfalcon, +and Mr. Morton, and Lady Judith?" + +"But he is one of your family, Richard." + +"And they all will, if she isn't a coward." + +"Ah, no!" she sighs, and is chidden. + +The conquest of an epicure, or any young wife's conquest beyond her +husband, however loyally devised for their mutual happiness, may be +costly to her. Richard in his hours of excitement was thrown very +much with Lady Judith. He consulted her regarding what he termed +Lucy's cowardice. Lady Judith said: "I think she's wrong, but you +must learn to humour little women." + +"Then would you advise me to go up alone?" he asked, with a cloudy +forehead. + +"What else can you do? Be reconciled yourself as quickly as you can. +You can't drag her like a captive, you know?" + +It is not pleasant for a young husband, fancying his bride the +peerless flower of Creation, to learn that he must humour a little +woman in her. It was revolting to Richard. + +"What I fear," he said, "is, that my father will make it smooth with +me, and not acknowledge her: so that whenever I go to him, I shall +have to leave her, and tit for tat--an abominable existence, like a +ball on a billiard-table. I won't bear that ignominy. And this I +know, I know! she might prevent it at once, if she would only be +brave, and face it. You, you, Lady Judith, you wouldn't be a +coward?" + +"Where my old lord tells me to go, I go," the lady coldly replied. +"There's not much merit in that. Pray, don't cite me. Women are born +cowards, you know." + +"But I love the women who are not cowards." + +"The little thing--your wife has not refused to go?" + +"No--but tears! Who can stand tears?" + +Lucy had come to drop them. Unaccustomed to have his will thwarted, +and urgent where he saw the thing to do so clearly, the young +husband had spoken strong words: and she, who knew that she would +have given her life by inches for him; who knew that she was playing +a part for his happiness, and hiding for his sake the nature that +was worthy his esteem; the poor little martyr had been weak a +moment. + +She had Adrian's support. The wise youth was very comfortable. He +liked the air of the Island, and he liked being petted. "A nice +little woman! a very nice little woman!" Tom Bakewell heard him +murmur to himself according to a habit he had; and his air of rather +succulent patronage as he walked or sat beside the innocent Beauty, +with his head thrown back and a smile that seemed always to be in +secret communion with his marked abdominal prominence, showed that +she was gaining part of what she played for. Wise youths who buy +their loves, are not unwilling, when opportunity offers, to try and +obtain the commodity for nothing. Examinations of her hand, as for +some occult purpose, and unctuous pattings of the same, were not +infrequent. Adrian waxed now and then Anacreontic in his +compliments. Lucy would say: "That's worse than Lord Mountfalcon." + +"Better English than the noble lord deigns to employ--allow that?" +quoth Adrian. + +"He is very kind," said Lucy. + +"To all save to our noble vernacular," added Adrian. "He seems to +scent a rival to his dignity there." + +It may be that Adrian scented a rival to his lymphatic emotions. + +"We are at our ease here in excellent society," he wrote to Lady +Blandish. "I am bound to confess that the Huron has a happy fortune, +or a superlative instinct. Blindfold he has seized upon a suitable +mate. She can look at a lord, and cook for an epicure. Besides Dr. +Kitchener, she reads and comments on THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP. The 'Love' +chapter, of course, takes her fancy. That picture of Woman, '_Drawn +by Reverence and coloured by Love_,' she thinks beautiful, and +repeats it, tossing up pretty eyes. Also the lover's petition: +'_Give me purity to be worthy the good in her, and grant her +patience to reach the good in me._' 'Tis quite taking to hear her +lisp it. Be sure that I am repeating the petition! I make her read +me her choice passages. She has not a bad voice. + +"The Lady Judith I spoke of is Austin's Miss Menteith, married to +the incapable old Lord Felle, or Fellow, as the wits here call him. +Lord Mountfalcon is his cousin, and her--what? She has been trying +to find out, but they have both got over their perplexity, and act +respectively the bad man reproved and the chaste counsellor; a +position in which our young couple found them, and haply diverted +its perils. They had quite taken them in hand. Lady Judith +undertakes to cure the fair Papist of a pretty, modest trick of +frowning and blushing when addressed, and his lordship directs the +exuberant energies of the original man. 'Tis thus we fulfil our +destinies, and are content. Sometimes they change pupils; my lord +educates the little dame, and my lady the hope of Raynham. Joy and +blessings unto all! as the German poet sings. Lady Judith accepted +the hand of her decrepit lord that she might be of potent service to +her fellow-creatures. Austin, you know, had great hopes of her. + +"I have for the first time in my career a field of lords to study. I +think it is not without meaning that I am introduced to it by a +yeoman's niece. The language of the two social extremes is similar. +I find it to consist in an instinctively lavish use of vowels and +adjectives. My lord and Farmer Blaize speak the same tongue, only my +lord's has lost its backbone, and is limp, though fluent. Their +pursuits are identical; but that one has money, or, as the Pilgrim +terms it, _vantage_, and the other has not. Their ideas seem to have +a special relationship in the peculiarity of stopping where they +have begun. Young Tom Blaize with _vantage_ would be Lord +Mountfalcon. Even in the character of their parasites I see a +resemblance, though I am bound to confess that the Hon. Peter +Brayder, who is my lord's parasite, is by no means noxious. + +"This sounds dreadfully democratic. Pray, don't be alarmed. The +discovery of the affinity between the two extremes of the Royal +British Oak has made me thrice conservative. I see now that the +national love of a lord is less subservience than a form of +self-love; putting a gold-lace hat on one's image, as it were, to +bow to it. I see, too, the admirable wisdom of our system:--could +there be a finer balance of power than in a community where men +intellectually nil, have lawful vantage and a gold-lace hat on? How +soothing it is to intellect--that noble rebel, as the PILGRIM has +it--to stand, and bow, and know itself superior! This exquisite +compensation maintains the balance: whereas that period anticipated +by the PILGRIM, when science shall have produced an _intellectual +aristocracy_, is indeed horrible to contemplate. For what despotism +is so black as one the mind cannot challenge? 'Twill be an iron Age. +Wherefore, madam, I cry, and shall continue to cry, '_Vive_ Lord +Mountfalcon! long may he sip his Burgundy! long may the bacon-fed +carry him on their shoulders!' + +"Mr. Morton (who does me the honour to call me Young Mephisto, and +Socrates missed) leaves to-morrow to get Master Ralph out of a +scrape. Our Richard has just been elected member of a Club for the +promotion of nausea. Is he happy? you ask. As much so as one who has +had the misfortune to obtain what he wanted can be. Speed is his +passion. He races from point to point. In emulation of Leander and +Don Juan, he swam, I hear, to the opposite shores the other day, or +some world-shaking feat of the sort: himself the Hero whom he went +to meet: or, as they who pun say, his Hero was a Bet. A pretty +little domestic episode occurred this morning. He finds her +abstracted in the fire of his caresses: she turns shy and seeks +solitude: green jealousy takes hold of him: he lies in wait, and +discovers her with his new rival--a veteran edition of the culinary +Doctor! Blind to the Doctor's great national services, deaf to her +wild music, he grasps the intruder, dismembers him, and performs +upon him the treatment he has recommended for dressed cucumber. +Tears and shrieks accompany the descent of the gastronome. Down she +rushes to secure the cherished fragments: he follows: they find him, +true to his character, alighted and straggling over a bed of +blooming flowers. Yet ere a fairer flower can gather him, a heel +black as Pluto stamps him into earth, flowers and all:--happy +burial! Pathetic tribute to his merit is watering his grave, when by +saunters my Lord Mountfalcon. 'What's the mattah?' says his +lordship, soothing his moustache. They break apart, and 'tis left to +me to explain from the window. My lord looks shocked, Richard is +angry with her for having to be ashamed of himself, Beauty dries her +eyes, and after a pause of general foolishness, the business of life +is resumed. I may add that the Doctor has just been dug up, and we +are busy, in the enemy's absence, renewing old AEson with enchanted +threads. By the way, a Papist priest has blest them." + +A month had passed when Adrian wrote this letter. He was very +comfortable; so of course he thought Time was doing his duty. Not a +word did he say of Richard's return, and for some reason or other +neither Richard nor Lucy spoke of it now. + +Lady Blandish wrote back: "His father thinks he has refused to come +to him. By your utter silence on the subject, I fear that it must +be so. Make him come. Bring him by force. _Insist_ on his coming. Is +he mad? He must come _at once_." + +To this Adrian replied, after a contemplative comfortable lapse of a +day or two, which might be laid to his efforts to adopt the lady's +advice, "The point is that the half man declines to come without the +whole man. The terrible question of sex is our obstruction." + +Lady Blandish was in despair. She had no positive assurance that the +baronet would see his son; the mask put them all in the dark; but +she thought she saw in Sir Austin irritation that the offender, at +least when the opening to come and make his peace seemed to be +before him, should let days and weeks go by. She saw through the +mask sufficiently not to have any hope of his consenting to receive +the couple at present; she was sure that his equanimity was +fictitious; but she pierced no farther, or she might have started +and asked herself, Is this the heart of a woman? + +The lady at last wrote to Richard. She said: "Come instantly, and +come alone." Then Richard, against his judgment, gave way. "My +father is not the man I thought him!" he exclaimed sadly, and Lucy +felt his eyes saying to her: "And you, too, are not the woman I +thought you." Nothing could the poor little heart reply but strain +to his bosom and sleeplessly pray in his arms all the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +CLARE'S MARRIAGE + + +Three weeks after Richard arrived in town, his cousin Clare was +married, under the blessings of her energetic mother, and with the +approbation of her kinsfolk, to the husband that had been +expeditiously chosen for her. The gentleman, though something more +than twice the age of his bride, had no idea of approaching senility +for many long connubial years to come. Backed by his tailor and his +hairdresser, he presented no such bad figure at the altar, and none +would have thought that he was an ancient admirer of his bride's +mama, as certainly none knew he had lately proposed for Mrs. Doria +before there was any question of her daughter. These things were +secrets; and the elastic and happy appearance of Mr. John Todhunter +did not betray them at the altar. Perhaps he would rather have +married the mother. He was a man of property, well born, tolerably +well educated, and had, when Mrs. Doria rejected him for the first +time, the reputation of being a fool--which a wealthy man may have +in his youth; but as he lived on, and did not squander his +money--amassed it, on the contrary, and did not seek to go into +Parliament, and did other negative wise things, the world's opinion, +as usual, veered completely round, and John Todhunter was esteemed a +shrewd, sensible man--only not brilliant; that he was brilliant +could not be said of him. In fact, the man could hardly talk, and it +was a fortunate provision that no impromptu deliveries were required +of him in the marriage-service. + +Mrs. Doria had her own reasons for being in a hurry. She had +discovered something of the strange impassive nature of her child; +not from any confession of Clare's, but from signs a mother can read +when her eyes are not resolutely shut. She saw with alarm and +anguish that Clare had fallen into the pit she had been digging for +her so laboriously. In vain she entreated the baronet to break the +disgraceful, and, as she said, illegal alliance his son had +contracted. Sir Austin would not even stop the little pension to +poor Berry. "At least you will do that, Austin," she begged +pathetically. "You will show your sense of that horrid woman's +conduct?" He refused to offer up any victim to console her. Then +Mrs. Doria told him her thoughts,--and when an outraged energetic +lady is finally brought to exhibit these painfully hoarded +treasures, she does not use half words as a medium. His System, and +his conduct generally were denounced to him, without analysis. She +let him understand that the world laughed at him; and he heard this +from her at a time when his mask was still soft and liable to be +acted on by his nerves. "You are weak, Austin! weak, I tell you!" +she said, and, like all angry and self-interested people, prophecy +came easy to her. In her heart she accused him of her own fault, in +imputing to him the wreck of her project. The baronet allowed her +to revel in the proclamation of a dire future, and quietly +counselled her to keep apart from him, which his sister assured him +she would do. + +But to be passive in calamity is the province of no woman. Mark the +race at any hour. "What revolution and hubbub does not that little +instrument, the needle, avert from us!" says THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP. +Alas, that in calamity women cannot stitch! Now that she saw Clare +wanted other than iron, it struck her she must have a husband, and +be made secure as a woman and a wife. This seemed the thing to do: +and, as she had forced the iron down Clare's throat, so she forced +the husband, and Clare gulped at the latter as she had at the +former. On the very day that Mrs. Doria had this new track shaped +out before her, John Todhunter called at the Foreys'. "Old John!" +sang out Mrs. Doria, "show him up to me. I want to see him +particularly." He sat with her alone. He was a man multitudes of +women would have married--whom will they not?--and who would have +married any presentable woman: but women do want asking, and John +never had the word. The rape of such men is left to the practical +animal. So John sat alone with his old flame. He had become resigned +to her perpetual lamentation and living Suttee for his defunct +rival. But, ha! what meant those soft glances now--addressed to him? +His tailor and his hairdresser gave youth to John, but they had not +the art to bestow upon him distinction, and an undistinguished man +what woman looks at? John was an indistinguishable man. For that +reason he was dry wood to a soft glance. + +And now she said: "It is time you should marry; and you are the man +to be the guide and helper of a young woman, John. You are well +preserved--younger than most of the young men of our day. You are +eminently domestic, a good son, and will be a good husband and good +father. Some one you must marry.--What do you think of Clare for a +wife for you?" + +At first John Todhunter thought it would be very much like his +marrying a baby. However, he listened to it, and that was enough for +Mrs. Doria. + +She went down to John's mother, and consulted with her on the +propriety of the scheme of wedding her daughter to John in +accordance with his proposition. Mrs. Todhunter's jealousy of any +disturbing force in the influence she held over her son Mrs. Doria +knew to be one of the causes of John's remaining constant to the +impression she had aforetime produced on him. She spoke so kindly of +John, and laid so much stress on the ingrained obedience and passive +disposition of her daughter, that Mrs. Todhunter was led to admit +she did think it almost time John should be seeking a mate, and that +he--all things considered--would hardly find a fitter one. And this, +John Todhunter--old John no more--heard to his amazement when, a day +or two subsequently, he instanced the probable disapproval of his +mother. + +The match was arranged. Mrs. Doria did the wooing. It consisted in +telling Clare that she had come to years when marriage was +desirable, and that she had fallen into habits of moping which might +have the worse effect on her future life, as it had on her present +health and appearance, and which a husband would cure. Richard was +told by Mrs. Doria that Clare had instantaneously consented to +accept Mr. John Todhunter as lord of her days, and with more than +obedience--with alacrity. At all events, when Richard spoke to +Clare, the strange passive creature did not admit constraint on her +inclinations. Mrs. Doria allowed Richard to speak to her. She +laughed at his futile endeavours to undo her work, and the boyish +sentiments he uttered on the subject. "Let us see, child," she said, +"let us see which turns out the best; a marriage of passion, or a +marriage of common sense." + +Heroic efforts were not wanting to arrest the union. Richard made +repeated journeys to Hounslow, where Ralph was quartered, and if +Ralph could have been persuaded to carry off a young lady who did +not love him, from the bridegroom her mother averred she did love, +Mrs. Doria might have been defeated. But Ralph in his cavalry +quarters was cooler than Ralph in the Bursley meadows. "Women are +oddities, Dick," he remarked, running a finger right and left along +his upper lip. "Best leave them to their own freaks. She's a dear +girl, though she doesn't talk: I like her for that. If she cared for +me I'd go the race. She never did. It's no use asking a girl twice. +_She_ knows whether she cares a fig for a fellow." + +The hero quitted him with some contempt. As Ralph Morton was a young +man, and he had determined that John Todhunter was an old man, he +sought another private interview with Clare, and getting her alone, +said: "Clare, I've come to you for the last time. Will you marry +Ralph Morton?" + +To which Clare replied, "I cannot marry two husbands, Richard." + +"Will you refuse to marry this old man?" + +"I must do as mama wishes." + +"Then you're going to marry an old man--a man you don't love, and +can't love! Oh, good God! do you know what you're doing?" He flung +about in a fury. "Do you know what it is? Clare!" he caught her two +hands violently, "have you any idea of the horror you're going to +commit?" + +She shrank a little at his vehemence, but neither blushed nor +stammered: answering: "I see nothing wrong in doing what mama thinks +right, Richard." + +"Your mother! I tell you it's an infamy, Clare! It's a miserable +sin! I tell you, if I had done such a thing I would not live an hour +after it. And coldly to prepare for it! to be busy about your +dresses! They told me when I came in that you were with the +milliner. To be smiling over the horrible outrage! decorating +yourself!"... + +"Dear Richard," said Clare, "you will make me very unhappy." + +"That one of my blood should be so debased!" he cried, brushing +angrily at his face. "Unhappy! I beg you to feel for yourself, +Clare. But I suppose," and he said it scornfully, "girls don't feel +this sort of shame." + +She grew a trifle paler. + +"Next to mama, I would wish to please you, dear Richard." + +"Have you no will of your own?" he exclaimed. + +She looked at him softly; a look he interpreted for the meekness he +detested in her. + +"No, I believe you have none!" he added. "And what can I do? I can't +step forward and stop this accursed marriage. If you would but say a +word I would save you; but you tie my hands. And they expect me to +stand by and see it done!" + +"Will you not be there, Richard?" said Clare, following the question +with her soft eyes. It was the same voice that had so thrilled him +on his marriage morn. + +"Oh, my darling Clare!" he cried in the kindest way he had ever used +to her, "if you knew how I feel this!" and now as he wept she wept, +and came insensibly into his arms. "My darling Clare!" he repeated. + +She said nothing, but seemed to shudder, weeping. + +"You _will_ do it, Clare? You will be sacrificed? So lovely as you +are, too!... Clare! you cannot be quite blind. If I dared speak to +you, and tell you all.... Look up. Can you still consent?" + +"I must not disobey mama," Clare murmured, without looking up from +the nest her cheek had made on his bosom. + +"Then kiss me for the last time," said Richard. "I'll never kiss you +after it, Clare." + +He bent his head to meet her mouth, and she threw her arms wildly +round him, and kissed him convulsively, and clung to his lips, +shutting her eyes, her face suffused with a burning red. + +Then he left her, unaware of the meaning of those passionate kisses. + +Argument with Mrs. Doria was like firing paper-pellets against a +stone wall. To her indeed the young married hero spoke almost +indecorously, and that which his delicacy withheld him from speaking +to Clare. He could provoke nothing more responsive from the +practical animal than "Pooh-pooh! Tush, tush! and Fiddlededee!" + +"Really," Mrs. Doria said to her intimates, "that boy's education +acts like a disease on him. He cannot regard anything sensibly. He +is for ever in some mad excess of his fancy, and what he will come +to at last heaven only knows! I sincerely pray that Austin will be +able to bear it." + +Threats of prayer, however, that harp upon their sincerity, are not +very well worth having. Mrs. Doria had embarked in a practical +controversy, as it were, with her brother. Doubtless she did trust +he would be able to bear his sorrows to come, but one who has +uttered prophecy can barely help hoping to see it fulfilled: she had +prophesied much grief to the baronet. + +Poor John Todhunter, who would rather have married the mother, and +had none of your heroic notions about the sacred necessity for love +in marriage, moved as one guiltless of offence, and deserving his +happiness. Mrs. Doria shielded him from the hero. To see him smile +at Clare's obedient figure, and try not to look paternal, was +touching. + +Meantime Clare's marriage served one purpose. It completely occupied +Richard's mind, and prevented him from chafing at the vexation of +not finding his father ready to meet him when he came to town. A +letter had awaited Adrian at the hotel, which said, "Detain him till +you hear further from me. Take him about with you into every form of +society." No more than that. Adrian had to extemporize, that the +baronet had gone down to Wales on pressing business, and would be +back in a week or so. For ulterior inventions and devices wherewith +to keep the young gentleman in town, he applied to Mrs. Doria. +"Leave him to me," said Mrs. Doria, "I'll manage him." And she did. + +"Who can say," asks THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP, "when he is not walking a +puppet to some woman?" + +Mrs. Doria would hear no good of Lucy. "I believe," she observed, as +Adrian ventured a shrugging protest in her behalf,--"it is my firm +opinion, that a scullery-maid would turn any of you men round her +little finger--only give her time and opportunity." By dwelling on +the arts of women, she reconciled it to her conscience to do her +best to divide the young husband from his wife till it pleased his +father they should live their unhallowed union again. Without +compunction, or a sense of incongruity, she abused her brother and +assisted the fulfilment of his behests. + +So the puppets were marshalled by Mrs. Doria, happy, or sad, or +indifferent. Quite against his set resolve and the tide of his +feelings, Richard found himself standing behind Clare in the +church--the very edifice that had witnessed his own marriage, and +heard, "I, Clare Doria, take thee John Pemberton," clearly +pronounced. He stood, with black brows dissecting the arts of the +tailor and hairdresser on unconscious John. The back, and much of +the middle, of Mr. Todhunter's head was bald; the back shone like +an egg-shell, but across the middle the artist had drawn two long +dabs of hair from the sides, and plastered them cunningly, so that +all save wilful eyes would have acknowledged the head to be covered. +The man's only pretension was to a respectable juvenility. He had a +good chest, stout limbs, a face inclined to be jolly. Mrs. Doria had +no cause to be put out of countenance at all by the exterior of her +son-in-law: nor was she. Her splendid hair and gratified smile made +a light in the church. Playing puppets must be an immense pleasure +to the practical animal. The Forey bridesmaids, five in number, and +one Miss Doria, their cousin, stood as girls do stand at these +sacrifices, whether happy, sad, or indifferent; a smile on their +lips and tears in attendance. Old Mrs. Todhunter, an exceedingly +small ancient woman, was also there. "I can't have my boy John +married without seeing it done," she said, and throughout the +ceremony she was muttering audible encomiums on her John's manly +behaviour. + +The ring was affixed to Clare's finger; there was no ring lost in +this common-sense marriage. The instant the clergyman bade him +employ it, John drew the ring out, and dropped it on the finger of +the cold passive hand in a business-like way, as one who had studied +the matter. Mrs. Doria glanced aside at Richard. Richard observed +Clare spread out her fingers that the operation might be the more +easily effected. + +He did duty in the vestry a few minutes, and then said to his aunt: + +"Now I'll go." + +"You'll come to the breakfast, child? The Foreys"---- + +He cut her short. "I've stood for the family, and I'll do no more. I +won't pretend to eat and make merry over it." + +"Richard!" + +"Good-bye." + +She had attained her object and she wisely gave way. + +"Well. Go and kiss Clare, and shake his hand. Pray, pray be civil." + +She turned to Adrian, and said: "He is going. You must go with him, +and find some means of keeping him, or he'll be running off to that +woman. Now, no words--go!" + +Richard bade Clare farewell. She put up her mouth to him humbly, but +he kissed her on the forehead. + +"Do not cease to love me," she said in a quavering whisper in his +ear. + +Mr. Todhunter stood beaming and endangering the art of the +hairdresser with his pocket-handkerchief. Now he positively was +married, he thought he would rather have the daughter than the +mother, which is a reverse of the order of human thankfulness at a +gift of the Gods. + +"Richard, my boy!" he said heartily, "congratulate me." + +"I should be happy to, if I could," sedately replied the hero, to +the consternation of those around. Nodding to the bridesmaids and +bowing to the old lady, he passed out. + +Adrian, who had been behind him, deputed to watch for a possible +unpleasantness, just hinted to John: "You know, poor fellow, he has +got into a mess with his marriage." + +"Oh! ah! yes!" kindly said John, "poor fellow!" + +All the puppets then rolled off to the breakfast. + +Adrian hurried after Richard in an extremely discontented state of +mind. Not to be at the breakfast and see the best of the fun, +disgusted him. However, he remembered that he was a philosopher, and +the strong disgust he felt was only expressed in concentrated +cynicism on every earthly matter engendered by the conversation. +They walked side by side into Kensington Gardens. The hero was +mouthing away to himself, talking by fits. + +Presently he faced Adrian, crying: "And I might have stopped it! I +see it now! I might have stopped it by going straight to him, and +asking him if he dared marry a girl who did not love him. And I +never thought of it. Good heavens! I feel this miserable affair on +my conscience." + +"Ah!" groaned Adrian. "An unpleasant cargo for the conscience, that! +I would rather carry anything on mine than a married couple. Do you +purpose going to him now?" + +The hero soliloquized: "He's not a bad sort of man."... + +"Well, he's not a Cavalier," said Adrian, "and that's why you wonder +your aunt selected him, no doubt? He's decidedly of the Roundhead +type, with the Puritan extracted, or inoffensive, if latent." + +"There's the double infamy!" cried Richard, "that a man you can't +call bad, should do this damned thing!" + +"Well, it's hard we can't find a villain." + +"He would have listened to me, I'm sure." + +"Go to him now, Richard, my son. Go to him now. It's not yet too late. +Who knows? If he really has a noble elevated superior mind--though not a +Cavalier in person, he may be one at heart--he might, to please you, and +since you put such stress upon it, abstain ... perhaps with some loss of +dignity, but never mind. And the request might be singular, or seem so, +but everything has happened before in this world, you know, my dear boy. +And what an infinite consolation it is for the eccentric, that +reflection!" + +The hero was impervious to the wise youth. He stared at him as if he +were but a speck in the universe he visioned. + +It was provoking that Richard should be Adrian's best subject for +cynical pastime, in the extraordinary heterodoxies he started, and +his worst in the way he took it; and the wise youth, against his +will, had to feel as conscious of the young man's imaginative mental +armour, as he was of his muscular physical. + +"The same sort of day!" mused Richard, looking up. "I suppose my +father's right. We make our own fates, and nature has nothing to do +with it." + +Adrian yawned. + +"Some difference in the trees, though," Richard continued +abstractedly. + +"Growing bald at the top," said Adrian. + +"Will you believe that my aunt Helen compared the conduct of that +wretched slave Clare to Lucy's, who, she had the cruel insolence to +say, entangled me into marriage?" the hero broke out loudly and +rapidly. "You know--I told you, Adrian--how I had to threaten and +insist, and how she pleaded, and implored me to wait." + +"Ah! hum!" mumbled Adrian. + +"You remember my telling you?" Richard was earnest to hear her +exonerated. + +"Pleaded and implored, my dear boy? Oh, no doubt she did. Where's +the lass that doesn't." + +"Call my wife by another name, if you please." + +"The generic title can't be cancelled because of your having married +one of the body, my son." + +"She did all she could to persuade me to wait!" emphasized Richard. + +Adrian shook his head with a deplorable smile. + +"Come, come, my good Ricky; not all! not all!" + +Richard bellowed: "What more could she have done?" + +"She could have shaved her head, for instance." + +This happy shaft did stick. With a furious exclamation Richard shot +in front, Adrian following him; and asking him (merely to have his +assumption verified), whether he did not think she might have shaved +her head? and, presuming her to have done so, whether, in candour, +he did not think he would have waited--at least till she looked less +of a rank lunatic? + +After a minute or so, the wise youth was but a fly buzzing about +Richard's head. Three weeks of separation from Lucy, and an +excitement deceased, caused him to have soft yearnings for the dear +lovely home-face. He told Adrian it was his intention to go down +that night. Adrian immediately became serious. He was at a loss what +to invent to detain him, beyond the stale fiction that his father +was coming to-morrow. He rendered homage to the genius of woman in +these straits. "My aunt," he thought, "would have the lie ready; and +not only that, but she would take care it did its work." + +At this juncture the voice of a cavalier in the Row hailed them, +proving to be the Honourable Peter Brayder, Lord Mountfalcon's +parasite. He greeted them very cordially; and Richard, remembering +some fun they had in the Island, asked him to dine with them; +postponing his return till the next day. Lucy was his. It was even +sweet to dally with the delight of seeing her. + +The Hon. Peter was one who did honour to the body he belonged to. +Though not so tall as a West of London footman, he was as shapely; +and he had a power of making his voice insinuating, or arrogant, as +it suited the exigencies of his profession. He had not a rap of +money in the world; yet he rode a horse, lived high, expended +largely. The world said that the Hon. Peter was salaried by his +Lordship, and that, in common with that of Parasite, he exercised +the ancient companion profession. This the world said, and still +smiled at the Hon. Peter; for he was an engaging fellow, and where +he went not Lord Mountfalcon would not go. + +They had a quiet little hotel dinner, ordered by Adrian, and made a +square at the table, Ripton Thompson being the fourth. Richard sent +down to his office to fetch him, and the two friends shook hands for +the first time since the great deed had been executed. Deep was the +Old Dog's delight to hear the praises of his Beauty sounded by such +aristocratic lips as the Hon. Peter Brayder's. All through the +dinner he was throwing out hints and small queries to get a fuller +account of her; and when the claret had circulated, he spoke a word +or two himself, and heard the Hon. Peter eulogize his taste, and +wish him a bride as beautiful; at which Ripton blushed, and said, he +had no hope of that, and the Hon. Peter assured him marriage did not +break the mould. + +After the wine this gentleman took his cigar on the balcony, and +found occasion to get some conversation with Adrian alone. + +"Our young friend here--made it all right with the governor?" he +asked carelessly. + +"Oh yes!" said Adrian. But it struck him that Brayder might be of +assistance in showing Richard a little of the "society in every +form," required by his chief's prescript. "That is," he continued, +"we are not yet permitted an interview with the august author of our +being, and I have rather a difficult post. 'Tis mine both to keep +him here, and also to find him the opportunity to measure himself +with his fellow-man. In other words, his father wants him to see +something of life before he enters upon housekeeping. Now I am proud +to confess that I'm hardly equal to the task. The demi, or +damnedmonde--if it's that he wants him to observe--is one that I +have not got the walk to." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed Brayder. "You do the keeping, I offer to parade +the demi. I must say, though, it's a queer notion of the old +gentleman." + +"It's the continuation of a philosophic plan," said Adrian. + +Brayder followed the curvings of the whiff of his cigar with his +eyes, and ejaculated, "Infernally philosophic!" + +"Has Lord Mountfalcon left the island?" Adrian inquired. + +"Mount? to tell the truth I don't know where he is. Chasing some +light craft, I suppose. That's poor Mount's weakness. It's his ruin, +poor fellow! He's so confoundedly in earnest at the game." + +"He ought to know it by this time, if fame speaks true," remarked +Adrian. + +"He's a baby about women, and always will be," said Brayder. "He's +been once or twice wanting to marry them. Now there's a +woman--you've heard of Mrs. Mount? All the world knows her.--If that +woman hadn't scandalized."--The young man joined them, and checked +the communication. Brayder winked to Adrian, and pitifully indicated +the presence of an innocent. + +"A married man, you know," said Adrian. + +"Yes, yes!--we won't shock him," Brayder observed. He appeared to +study the young man while they talked. + +Next morning Richard was surprised by a visit from his aunt. Mrs. +Doria took a seat by his side, and spoke as follows: + +"My dear nephew. Now you know I have always loved you, and thought +of your welfare as if you had been my own child. More than that, I +fear. Well, now, you are thinking of returning to--to that +place--are you not? Yes. It is as I thought. Very well now, let me +speak to you. You are in a much more dangerous position than you +imagine. I don't deny your father's affection for you. It would be +absurd to deny it. But you are of an age now to appreciate his +character. Whatever you may do he will always give you money. That +you are sure of; that you know. Very well. But you are one to want +more than money: you want his love. Richard, I am convinced you will +never be happy, whatever base pleasures you may be led into, if he +should withhold his love from you. Now, child, you know you have +grievously offended him. I wish not to animadvert on your +conduct.--You fancied yourself in love, and so on, and you were +rash. The less said of it the better now. But you must now--it is +your duty now to do something--to do everything that lies in your +power to show him you repent. No interruptions! Listen to me. You +must consider him. Austin is not like other men. Austin requires +the most delicate management. You must--whether you feel it or +no--present an appearance of contrition. I counsel it for the good +of all. He is just like a woman, and where his feelings are offended +he wants utter subservience. He has you in town, and he does not see +you:--now you know that he and I are not in communication: we have +likewise our differences:--Well, he has you in town, and he holds +aloof:--he is trying you, my dear Richard. No: he is not at Raynham: +I do not know where he is. He is trying you, child, and you must be +patient. You must convince him that you do not care utterly for your +own gratification. If this person--I wish to speak of her with +respect, for your sake--well, if she loves you _at all_--if, I say, +she loves you _one atom_, she will repeat my solicitations for you +to stay and patiently wait here till he consents to see you. I tell +you candidly, it's your only chance of ever getting him to receive +_her_. That you should know. And now, Richard, I may add that there +is something else you should know. You should know that it depends +entirely upon your conduct now, whether you are to see your father's +heart for ever divided from you, and a new family at Raynham. You do +not understand? I will explain. Brothers and sisters are excellent +things for young people, but a new brood of them can hardly be +acceptable to a young man. In fact, they are, and must be, aliens. I +only tell you what I have heard on good authority. Don't you +understand now? Foolish boy! if you do not humour him, he will marry +her. Oh! I am sure of it. I know it. And this you will drive him to. +I do not warn you on the score of your prospects, but of your +feelings. I should regard such a contingency, Richard, as a final +division between you. Think of the scandal! but alas, that is the +least of the evils." + +It was Mrs. Doria's object to produce an impression, and avoid an +argument. She therefore left him as soon as she had, as she +supposed, made her mark on the young man. Richard was very silent +during the speech, and save for an exclamation or so, had listened +attentively. He pondered on what his aunt said. He loved Lady +Blandish, and yet he did not wish to see her Lady Feverel. Mrs. +Doria laid painful stress on the scandal, and though he did not +give his mind to this, he thought of it. He thought of his mother. +Where was she? But most his thoughts recurred to his father, and +something akin to jealousy slowly awakened his heart to him. He had +given him up, and had not latterly felt extremely filial; but he +could not bear the idea of a division in the love of which he had +ever been the idol and sole object. And such a man, too! so good! so +generous! If it was jealousy that roused the young man's heart to +his father, the better part of love was also revived in it. He +thought of old days: of his father's forbearance, his own +wilfulness. He looked on himself, and what he had done, with the +eyes of such a man. He determined to do all he could to regain his +favour. + +Mrs. Doria learnt from Adrian in the evening that her nephew +intended waiting in town another week. + +"That will do," smiled Mrs. Doria. "He will be more patient at the +end of a week." + +"Oh! does patience beget patience?" said Adrian. "I was not aware it +was a propagating virtue. I surrender him to you. I shan't be able +to hold him in after one week more. I assure you, my dear aunt, he's +already".... + +"Thank you, no explanation," Mrs. Doria begged. + +When Richard saw her next, he was informed that she had received a +most satisfactory letter from Mrs. John Todhunter: quite a glowing +account of John's behaviour: but on Richard's desiring to know the +words Clare had written, Mrs. Doria objected to be explicit, and +shot into worldly gossip. + +"Clare seldom glows," said Richard. + +"No, I mean _for her_," his aunt remarked. "Don't look like your +father, child." + +"I should like to have seen the letter," said Richard. + +Mrs. Doria did not propose to show it. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +A DINNER-PARTY AT RICHMOND + + +A lady driving a pair of greys was noticed by Richard in his rides +and walks. She passed him rather obviously and often. She was very +handsome; a bold beauty, with shining black hair, red lips, and eyes +not afraid of men. The hair was brushed from her temples, leaving +one of those fine reckless outlines which the action of driving, and +the pace, admirably set off. She took his fancy. He liked the air of +petulant gallantry about her, and mused upon the picture, rare to +him, of a glorious dashing woman. He thought, too, she looked at +him. He was not at the time inclined to be vain, or he might have +been sure she did. Once it struck him she nodded slightly. + +He asked Adrian one day in the park--who she was. + +"I don't know her," said Adrian. "Probably a superior priestess of +Paphos." + +"Now that's my idea of Bellona," Richard exclaimed. "Not the fury +they paint, but a spirited, dauntless, eager-looking creature like +that." + +"Bellona?" returned the wise youth. "I don't think her hair was +black. Red, wasn't it? I shouldn't compare her to Bellona; though, +no doubt, she's as ready to spill blood. Look at her! She does seem +to scent carnage. I see your idea. No; I should liken her to Diana +emerged from the tutorship of Master Endymion, and at nice play +among the gods. Depend upon it--they tell us nothing of the +matter--Olympus shrouds the story--but you may be certain that when +she left the pretty shepherd she had greater vogue than Venus up +aloft." + +Brayder joined them. + +"See Mrs. Mount go by?" he said. + +"Oh, that's Mrs. Mount!" cried Adrian. + +"Who's Mrs. Mount?" Richard inquired. + +"A sister to Miss Random, my dear boy." + +"Like to know her?" drawled the Hon. Peter. + +Richard replied indifferently, "No," and Mrs. Mount passed out of +sight and out of the conversation. + +The young man wrote submissive letters to his father. "I have +remained here waiting to see you now five weeks," he wrote. "I have +written to you three letters, and you do not reply to them. Let me +tell you again how sincerely I desire and pray that you will come, +or permit me to come to you and throw myself at your feet, and beg +my forgiveness, and hers. She as earnestly implores it. Indeed, I am +very wretched, sir. Believe me, there is nothing I would not do to +regain your esteem and the love I fear I have unhappily forfeited. I +will remain another week in the hope of hearing from you, or seeing +you. I beg of you, sir, not to drive me mad. Whatever you ask of me +I will consent to." + +"Nothing he would not do!" the baronet commented as he read. "There +is nothing he would not do! He will remain another week and give me +that final chance! And it is I who drive him mad! Already he is +beginning to cast his retribution on my shoulders." + +Sir Austin had really gone down to Wales to be out of the way. A +Shaddock-Dogmatist does not meet misfortune without hearing of it, +and the author of THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP in trouble found London too +hot for him. He quitted London to take refuge among the mountains; +living there in solitary commune with a virgin Note-book. + +Some indefinite scheme was in his head in this treatment of his son. +Had he construed it, it would have looked ugly; and it settled to a +vague principle that the young man should be tried and tested. + +"Let him learn to deny himself something. Let him live with his +equals for a term. If he loves me he will read my wishes." Thus he +explained his principle to Lady Blandish. + +The lady wrote: "You speak of a term. Till when? May I name one to +him? It is the dreadful _uncertainty_ that reduces him to despair. +That, and nothing else. Pray be explicit." + +In return, he distantly indicated Richard's majority. + +How could Lady Blandish go and ask the young man to wait a year away +from his wife? Her instinct began to open a wide eye on the idol she +worshipped. + +When people do not themselves know what they mean, they succeed in +deceiving and imposing upon others. Not only was Lady Blandish +mystified; Mrs. Doria, who pierced into the recesses of everybody's +mind, and had always been in the habit of reading off her brother +from infancy, and had never known herself to be once wrong about +him, she confessed she was quite at a loss to comprehend Austin's +principle. "For principle he has," said Mrs. Doria; "he never acts +without one. But what it is, I cannot at present perceive. If he +would write, and command the boy to await his return, all would be +clear. He allows us to go and fetch him, and then leaves us all in a +quandary. It must be some woman's influence. That is the only way to +account for it." + +"Singular!" interjected Adrian, "what pride women have in their sex! +Well, I have to tell you, my dear aunt, that the day after to-morrow +I hand my charge over to your keeping. I can't hold him in an hour +longer. I've had to leash him with lies till my invention's +exhausted. I petition to have them put down to the chief's account, +but when the stream runs dry I can do no more. The last was, that I +had heard from him desiring me to have the South-west bedroom ready +for him on Tuesday proximate. 'So!' says my son, 'I'll wait till +then,' and from the gigantic effort he exhibited in coming to it, I +doubt any human power's getting him to wait longer." + +"We must, we must detain him," said Mrs. Doria. "If we do not, I am +convinced Austin will do something rash that he will for ever +repent. He will marry that woman, Adrian. Mark my words. Now with +any other young man!... But Richard's education! that ridiculous +System!... Has he no distraction? nothing to amuse him?" + +"Poor boy! I suppose he wants his own particular playfellow." + +The wise youth had to bow to a reproof. + +"I tell you, Adrian, he will marry that woman." + +"My dear aunt! Can a chaste man do aught more commendable?" + +"Has the boy no object we can induce him to follow?--If he had but a +profession!" + +"What say you to the regeneration of the streets of London, and the +profession of moral-scavenger, aunt? I assure you I have served a +month's apprenticeship with him. We sally forth on the tenth hour +of the night. A female passes. I hear him groan. 'Is _she_ one of +them, Adrian?' I am compelled to admit she is not the saint he deems +it the portion of every creature wearing petticoats to be. Another +groan; an evident internal, 'It cannot be--and yet!' ... that we +hear on the stage. Rollings of eyes: impious questionings of the +Creator of the universe; savage mutterings against brutal males; and +then we meet a second young person, and repeat the performance--of +which I am rather tired. It would be all very well, but he turns +upon me, and lectures me because I don't hire a house, and furnish +it for all the women one meets to live in in purity. Now that's too +much to ask of a quiet man. Master Thompson has latterly relieved +me, I'm happy to say." + +Mrs. Doria thought her thoughts. + +"Has Austin written to you since you were in town?" + +"Not an Aphorism!" returned Adrian. + +"I must see Richard to-morrow morning," Mrs. Doria ended the +colloquy by saying. + +The result of her interview with her nephew was, that Richard made +no allusion to a departure on the Tuesday; and for many days +afterward he appeared to have an absorbing business on his hands: +but what it was Adrian did not then learn, and his admiration of +Mrs. Doria's genius for management rose to a very high pitch. + + * * * * * + +On a morning in October they had an early visitor in the person of +the Hon. Peter, whom they had not seen for a week or more. + +"Gentlemen," he said, flourishing his cane in his most affable +manner, "I've come to propose to you to join us in a little +dinner-party at Richmond. Nobody's in town, you know. London's as +dead as a stock-fish. Nothing but the scrapings to offer you. But +the weather's fine: I flatter myself you'll find the company +agreeable. What says my friend Feverel?" + +Richard begged to be excused. + +"No, no: positively you must come," said the Hon. Peter. "I've had +some trouble to get them together to relieve the dulness of your +incarceration. Richmond's within the rules of your prison. You can +be back by night. Moonlight on the water--lovely woman. We've +engaged a city-barge to pull us back. Eight oars--I'm not sure it +isn't sixteen. Come--the word!" + +Adrian was for going. Richard said he had an appointment with +Ripton. + +"You're in for another rick, you two," said Adrian. "Arrange that we +go. You haven't seen the cockney's Paradise. Abjure Blazes, and +taste of peace, my son." + +After some persuasion, Richard yawned wearily, and got up, and threw +aside the care that was on him, saying, "Very well. Just as you +like. We'll take old Rip with us." + +Adrian consulted Brayder's eye at this. The Hon. Peter briskly +declared he should be delighted to have Feverel's friend, and +offered to take them all down in his drag. + +"If you don't get a match on to swim there with the tide--eh, +Feverel, my boy?" + +Richard replied that he had given up that sort of thing, at which +Brayder communicated a queer glance to Adrian, and applauded the +youth. + +Richmond was under a still October sun. The pleasant landscape, +bathed in Autumn, stretched from the foot of the hill to a red +horizon haze. The day was like none that Richard vividly remembered. +It touched no link in the chain of his recollection. It was quiet, +and belonged to the spirit of the season. + +Adrian had divined the character of the scrapings they were to meet. +Brayder introduced them to one or two of the men, hastily and in +rather an undervoice, as a thing to get over. They made their bow to +the first knot of ladies they encountered. Propriety was observed +strictly, even to severity. The general talk was of the weather. +Here and there a lady would seize a button-hole or any little bit of +the habiliments, of the man she was addressing; and if it came to +her to chide him, she did it with more than a forefinger. This, +however, was only here and there, and a privilege of intimacy. + +Where ladies are gathered together, the Queen of the assemblage may +be known by her Court of males. The Queen of the present gathering +leaned against a corner of the open window, surrounded by a stalwart +Court, in whom a practised eye would have discerned guardsmen, and +Ripton, with a sinking of the heart, apprehended lords. They were +fine men, offering inanimate homage. The trim of their whiskerage, +the cut of their coats, the high-bred indolence in their aspect, +eclipsed Ripton's sense of self-esteem. But they kindly looked over +him. Occasionally one committed a momentary outrage on him with an +eye-glass, seeming to cry out in a voice of scathing scorn, "Who's +this?" and Ripton got closer to his hero to justify his humble +pretensions to existence and an identity in the shadow of him. +Richard gazed about. Heroes do not always know what to say or do; +and the cold bath before dinner in strange company is one of the +instances. He had recognized his superb Bellona in the lady by the +garden window. For Brayder the men had nods and jokes, the ladies a +pretty playfulness. He was very busy, passing between the groups, +chatting, laughing, taking the feminine taps he received, and +sometimes returning them in sly whispers. Adrian sat down and +crossed his legs, looking amused and benignant. + +"Whose dinner is it?" Ripton heard a mignonne beauty ask of a +cavalier. + +"Mount's, I suppose," was the answer. + +"Where is he? Why don't he come?" + +"An affaire, I fancy." + +"There he is again! How shamefully he treats Mrs. Mount!" + +"She don't seem to cry over it." + +Mrs. Mount was flashing her teeth and eyes with laughter at one of +her Court, who appeared to be Fool. + +Dinner was announced. The ladies proclaimed extravagant appetites. +Brayder posted his three friends. Ripton found himself under the lee +of a dame with a bosom. On the other side of him was the mignonne. +Adrian was at the lower end of the table. Ladies were in profusion, +and he had his share. Brayder drew Richard from seat to seat. A +happy man had established himself next to Mrs. Mount. Him Brayder +hailed to take the head of the table. The happy man objected, +Brayder continued urgent, the lady tenderly insisted, the happy man +grimaced, dropped into the post of honour, strove to look placable. +Richard usurped his chair, and was not badly welcomed by his +neighbour. + +Then the dinner commenced, and had all the attention of the company, +till the flying of the first champagne-cork gave the signal, and a +hum began to spread. Sparkling wine, that looseneth the tongue, and +displayeth the verity, hath also the quality of colouring it. The +ladies laughed high; Richard only thought them gay and natural. They +flung back in their chairs and laughed to tears; Ripton thought only +of the pleasure he had in their society. The champagne-corks +continued a regular file-firing. + +"Where have you been lately? I haven't seen you in the park," said +Mrs. Mount to Richard. + +"No," he replied, "I've not been there." The question seemed odd: +she spoke so simply that it did not impress him. He emptied his +glass, and had it filled again. + +The Hon. Peter did most of the open talking, which related to +horses, yachting, opera, and sport generally: who was ruined, by +what horse, or by what woman. He told one or two of Richard's feats. +Fair smiles rewarded the hero. + +"Do you bet?" said Mrs. Mount. + +"Only on myself," returned Richard. + +"Bravo!" cried his Bellona, and her eye sent a lingering delirious +sparkle across her brimming glass at him. + +"I'm sure you're a safe one to back," she added, and seemed to scan +his points approvingly. + +Richard's cheeks mounted bloom. + +"Don't you adore champagne?" quoth the dame with a bosom to Ripton. + +"Oh, yes!" answered Ripton, with more candour than accuracy, "I +always drink it." + +"Do you indeed?" said the enraptured bosom, ogling him. "You would +be a friend, now! I hope you don't object to a lady joining you now +and then. Champagne's my folly." + +A laugh was circling among the ladies of whom Adrian was the centre; +first low, and as he continued some narration, peals resounded, till +those excluded from the fun demanded the cue, and ladies leaned +behind gentlemen to take it up, and formed an electric chain of +laughter. Each one, as her ear received it, caught up her +handkerchief, and laughed, and looked shocked afterwards, or looked +shocked and then spouted laughter. The anecdote might have been +communicated to the bewildered cavaliers, but coming to a lady of a +demurer cast, she looked shocked without laughing, and reproved the +female table, in whose breasts it was consigned to burial: but here +and there a man's head was seen bent, and a lady's mouth moved, +though her face was not turned toward him, and a man's broad laugh +was presently heard, while the lady gazed unconsciously before her, +and preserved her gravity if she could escape any other lady's eyes; +failing in which, handkerchiefs were simultaneously seized, and a +second chime arose, till the tickling force subsided to a few chance +bursts. + +What nonsense it is that my father writes about women! thought +Richard. He says they can't laugh, and don't understand humour. It +comes, he reflected, of his shutting himself from the world. And the +idea that he was seeing the world, and feeling wiser, flattered him. +He talked fluently to his dangerous Bellona. He gave her some +reminiscences of Adrian's whimsies. + +"Oh!" said she, "that's your tutor, is it!" She eyed the young man +as if she thought he must go far and fast. + +Ripton felt a push. "Look at that," said the bosom, fuming utter +disgust. He was directed to see a manly arm round the waist of the +mignonne. "Now that's what I don't like in company," the bosom +inflated to observe with sufficient emphasis. "She always will allow +it with everybody. Give her a nudge." + +Ripton protested that he dared not; upon which she said, "Then I +will"; and inclined her sumptuous bust across his lap, breathing +wine in his face, and gave the nudge. The mignonne turned an +inquiring eye on Ripton; a mischievous spark shot from it. She +laughed, and said: "Aren't you satisfied with the old bird?" + +"Impudence!" muttered the bosom, growing grander and redder. + +"Do, do fill her glass, and keep her quiet--she drinks port when +there's no more champagne," said the mignonne. + +The bosom revenged herself by whispering to Ripton scandal of the +mignonne, and between them he was enabled to form a correcter +estimate of the company, and quite recovered from his original awe: +so much so as to feel a touch of jealousy at seeing his lively +little neighbour still held in absolute possession. + +Mrs. Mount did not come out much; but there was a deferential manner +in the bearing of the men toward her, which those haughty creatures +accord not save to clever women; and she contrived to hold the talk +with three or four at the head of the table while she still had +passages aside with Richard. + +The port and claret went very well after the champagne. The ladies +here did not ignominiously surrender the field to the gentlemen; +they maintained their position with honour. Silver was seen far out +on Thames. The wine ebbed, and the laughter. Sentiment and cigars +took up the wondrous tale. + +"Oh, what a lovely night!" said the ladies, looking above. + +"Charming," said the gentlemen, looking below. + +The faint-smelling cool Autumn air was pleasant after the feast. +Fragrant weeds burned bright about the garden. + +"We are split into couples," said Adrian to Richard, who was +standing alone, eying the landscape. "'Tis the influence of the +moon! Apparently we are in Cyprus. How has my son enjoyed himself? +How likes he the society of Aspasia? I feel like a wise Greek +to-night." + +Adrian was jolly, and rolled comfortably as he talked. Ripton had +been carried off by the sentimental bosom. He came up to them and +whispered: "By Jove, Ricky! do you know what sort of women these +are?" + +Richard said he thought them a nice sort. + +"Puritan!" exclaimed Adrian, slapping Ripton on the back. "Why +didn't you get tipsy, sir? Don't you ever intoxicate yourself except +at lawful marriages? Reveal to us what you have done with the portly +dame?" + +Ripton endured his bantering that he might hang about Richard, and +watch over him. He was jealous of his innocent Beauty's husband +being in proximity with such women. Murmuring couples passed them to +and fro. + +"By Jove, Ricky!" Ripton favoured his friend with another hard +whisper, "there's a woman smoking!" + +"And why not, O Riptonus?" said Adrian. "Art unaware that woman +cosmopolitan is woman consummate? and dost grumble to pay the small +price for the splendid gem?" + +"Well, I don't like women to smoke," said plain Ripton. + +"Why mayn't they do what men do?" the hero cried impetuously. "I +hate that contemptible narrow-mindedness. It's that makes the ruin +and horrors I see. Why mayn't they do what men do? I like the women +who are brave enough not to be hypocrites. By heaven! if these women +are bad, I like them better than a set of hypocritical creatures who +are all show, and deceive you in the end." + +"Bravo!" shouted Adrian. "There speaks the regenerator." + +Ripton, as usual, was crushed by his leader. He had no argument. He +still thought women ought not to smoke; and he thought of one far +away, lonely by the sea, who was perfect without being cosmopolitan. + +THE PILGRIM'S SCRIP remarks that: "Young men take joy in nothing so +much as the thinking women Angels: and nothing sours men of +experience more than knowing that all are not quite so." + +The Aphorist would have pardoned Ripton Thompson his first Random +extravagance, had he perceived the simple warm-hearted worship of +feminine goodness Richard's young bride had inspired in the breast +of the youth. It might possibly have taught him to put deeper trust +in our nature. + +Ripton thought of her, and had a feeling of sadness. He wandered +about the grounds by himself, went through an open postern, and +threw himself down among some bushes on the slope of the hill. Lying +there, and meditating, he became aware of voices conversing. + +"What does he want?" said a woman's voice. "It's another of his +villainies, I know. Upon my honour, Brayder, when I think of what I +have to reproach him for, I think I must go mad, or kill him." + +"Tragic!" said the Hon. Peter. "Haven't you revenged yourself, +Bella, pretty often? Best deal openly. This is a commercial +transaction. You ask for money, and you are to have it--on the +conditions: double the sum, and debts paid." + +"He applies to me!" + +"You know, my dear Bella, it has long been all up between you. I +think Mount has behaved very well, considering all he knows. He's +not easily hoodwinked, you know. He resigns himself to his fate, and +follows other game." + +"Then the condition is, that I am to seduce this young man?" + +"My dear Bella! you strike your bird like a hawk. I didn't say +seduce. Hold him in--play with him. Amuse him." + +"I don't understand half-measures." + +"Women seldom do." + +"How I hate you, Brayder!" + +"I thank your ladyship." + +The two walked farther. Ripton had heard some little of the +colloquy. He left the spot in a serious mood, apprehensive of +something dark to the people he loved, though he had no idea of what +the Hon. Peter's stipulation involved. + +On the voyage back to town, Richard was again selected to sit by +Mrs. Mount. Brayder and Adrian started the jokes. The pair of +parasites got on extremely well together. Soft fell the plash of the +oars; softly the moonlight curled around them; softly the banks +glided by. The ladies were in a state of high sentiment. They sang +without request. All deemed the British ballad-monger an appropriate +interpreter of their emotions. After good wine, and plenty thereof, +fair throats will make men of taste swallow that remarkable +composer. Eyes, lips, hearts; darts and smarts and sighs; beauty, +duty; bosom, blossom; false one, farewell! To this pathetic strain +they melted. Mrs. Mount, though strongly requested, declined to +sing. She preserved her state. Under the tall aspens of +Brentford-ait, and on they swept, the white moon in their wake. +Richard's hand lay open by his side. Mrs. Mount's little white hand +by misadventure fell into it. It was not pressed, or soothed for its +fall, or made intimate with eloquent fingers. It lay there like a +bit of snow on the cold ground. A yellow leaf wavering down from the +aspens struck Richard's cheek, and he drew away the very hand to +throw back his hair and smooth his face, and then folded his arms, +unconscious of offence. He was thinking ambitiously of his life: his +blood was untroubled, his brain calmly working. + +"Which is the more perilous?" is a problem put by the PILGRIM: "To +meet the temptings of Eve, or to pique her?" + +Mrs. Mount stared at the young man as at a curiosity, and turned to +flirt with one of her Court. The Guardsmen were mostly sentimental. +One or two rattled, and one was such a good-humoured fellow that +Adrian could not make him ridiculous. The others seemed to give +themselves up to a silent waxing in length of limb. However far they +sat removed, everybody was entangled in their legs. Pursuing his +studies, Adrian came to the conclusion, that the same close +intellectual and moral affinity which he had discovered to exist +between our nobility and our yeomanry, is to be observed between the +Guardsman class, and that of the corps de ballet: they both live by +the strength of their legs, where also their wits, if they do not +altogether reside there, are principally developed: both are volage; +wine, tobacco, and the moon, influence both alike; and admitting the +one marked difference that does exist, it is, after all, pretty +nearly the same thing to be coquetting and sinning on two legs as on +the point of a toe. + +A long Guardsman with a deep bass voice sang a doleful song about +the twining tendrils of the heart ruthlessly torn, but required +urgent persuasions and heavy trumpeting of his lungs to get to the +end: before he had accomplished it, Adrian had contrived to raise a +laugh in his neighbourhood, so that the company was divided, and the +camp split: jollity returned to one-half, while sentiment held the +other. Ripton, blotted behind the bosom, was only lucky in securing +a higher degree of heat than was possible for the rest. "Are you +cold?" she would ask, smiling charitably. + +"_I_ am," said the mignonne, as if to excuse her conduct. + +"You always appear to be," the fat one sniffed and snapped. + +"Won't you warm two, Mrs. Mortimer?" said the naughty little woman. + +Disdain prevented any further notice of her. Those familiar with the +ladies enjoyed their sparring, which was frequent. The mignonne was +heard to whisper: "That poor fellow will certainly be stewed." + +Very prettily the ladies took and gave warmth, for the air on the +water was chill and misty. Adrian had beside him the demure one who +had stopped the circulation of his anecdote. She in nowise objected +to the fair exchange, but said "Hush!" betweenwhiles. + +Past Kew and Hammersmith, on the cool smooth water; across Putney +reach; through Battersea bridge; and the City grew around them, and +the shadows of great mill-factories slept athwart the moonlight. + +All the ladies prattled sweetly of a charming day when they alighted +on land. Several cavaliers crushed for the honour of conducting Mrs. +Mount to her home. + +"My brougham's here; I shall go alone," said Mrs. Mount. "Some one +arrange my shawl." + +She turned her back to Richard, who had a view of a delicate neck as +he manipulated with the bearing of a mailed knight. + +"Which way are you going?" she asked carelessly, and, to his reply +as to the direction, said: "Then I can give you a lift," and she +took his arm with a matter-of-course air, and walked up the stairs +with him. + +Ripton saw what had happened. He was going to follow: the portly +dame retained him, and desired him to get her a cab. + +"Oh, you happy fellow!" said the bright-eyed mignonne, passing by. + +Ripton procured the cab, and stuffed it full without having to get +into it himself. + +"Try and let him come in too?" said the persecuting creature, again +passing. + +"Take liberties with your men--you shan't with me," retorted the +angry bosom, and drove off. + +"So she's been and gone and run away and left him after all his +trouble!" cried the pert little thing, peering into Ripton's eyes. +"Now you'll never be so foolish as to pin your faith to fat women +again. There! he shall be made happy another time." She gave his +nose a comical tap, and tripped away with her possessor. + +Ripton rather forgot his friend for some minutes: Random thoughts +laid hold of him. Cabs and carriages rattled past. He was sure he +had been among members of the nobility that day, though when they +went by him now they only recognized him with an effort of the +eyelids. He began to think of the day with exultation, as an event. +Recollections of the mignonne were captivating. "Blue eyes--just +what I like! And such a little impudent nose, and red lips, +pouting--the very thing I like! And her hair? darkish, I think--say +brown. And so saucy, and light on her feet. And kind she is, or she +wouldn't have talked to me like that." Thus, with a groaning soul, +he pictured her. His reason voluntarily consigned her to the +aristocracy as a natural appanage: but he did amorously wish that +Fortune had made a lord of him. + +Then his mind reverted to Mrs. Mount, and the strange bits of the +conversation he had heard on the hill. He was not one to suspect +anybody positively. He was timid of fixing a suspicion. It hovered +indefinitely, and clouded people, without stirring him to any +resolve. Still the attentions of the lady toward Richard were queer. +He endeavoured to imagine they were in the nature of things, because +Richard was so handsome that any woman must take to him. "But he's +married," said Ripton, "and he mustn't go near these people if he's +married." Not a high morality, perhaps: better than none at all: +better for the world were it practised more. He thought of Richard +along with that sparkling dame, alone with her. The adorable beauty +of his dear bride, her pure heavenly face, swam before him. Thinking +of her, he lost sight of the mignonne who had made him giddy. + +He walked to Richard's hotel, and up and down the street there, +hoping every minute to hear his step; sometimes fancying he might +have returned and gone to bed. Two o'clock struck. Ripton could not +go away. He was sure he should not sleep if he did. At last the cold +sent him homeward, and leaving the street, on the moonlight side of +Piccadilly he met his friend patrolling with his head up and that +swing of the feet proper to men who are chanting verses. + +"Old Rip!" cried Richard, cheerily. "What on earth are you doing +here at this hour of the morning?" + +Ripton muttered of his pleasure at meeting him. "I wanted to shake +your hand before I went home." + +Richard smiled on him in an amused kindly way. "That all? You may +shake my hand any day, like a true man as you are, old Rip! I've +been speaking about you. Do you know, that--Mrs. Mount--never saw +you all the time at Richmond, or in the boat!" + +"Oh!" Ripton said, well assured that he was a dwarf: "you saw her +safe home?" + +"Yes. I've been there for the last couple of hours--talking. She +talks capitally: she's wonderfully clever. She's very like a man, +only much nicer. I like her." + +"But, Richard, excuse me--I'm sure I don't mean to offend you--but +now you're married ... perhaps you couldn't help seeing her home, +but I think you really indeed oughtn't to have gone upstairs." + +Ripton delivered this opinion with a modest impressiveness. + +"What do you mean?" said Richard. "You don't suppose I care for any +woman but my little darling down there." He laughed. + +"No; of course not. That's absurd. What I mean is, that people +perhaps will--you know, they do--they say all manner of things, and +that makes unhappiness, and ... I do wish you were going home +to-morrow, Ricky. I mean, to your dear wife." Ripton blushed and +looked away as he spoke. + +The hero gave one of his scornful glances. "So you're anxious about +my reputation. I hate that way of looking on women. Because they +have been once misled--look how much weaker they are!--because the +world has given them an ill fame, you would treat them as +contagious, and keep away from them for the sake of your character!" + +"It would be different with me," quoth Ripton. + +"How?" asked the hero. + +"Because I'm worse than you," was all the logical explanation Ripton +was capable of. + +"I do hope you will go home soon," he added. + +"Yes," said Richard, "and I, so do I hope so. But I've work to do +now. I dare not, I cannot, leave it. Lucy would be the last to ask +me;--you saw her letter yesterday. Now listen to me, Rip. I want to +make you be just to women." + +Then he read Ripton a lecture on erring women, speaking of them as +if he had known them and studied them for years. Clever, beautiful, +but betrayed by love, it was the first duty of all true men to +cherish and redeem them. "We turn them into curses, Rip; these +divine creatures." And the world suffered for it. That--that was the +root of all the evil in the world! + +"I don't feel anger or horror at these poor women, Rip! It's +strange. I knew what they were when we came home in the boat. But I +do--it tears my heart to see a young girl given over to an old +man--a man she doesn't love. That's shame!--Don't speak of it." + +Forgetting to contest the premise, that all betrayed women are +betrayed by love, Ripton was quite silenced. He, like most young +men, had pondered somewhat on this matter, and was inclined to be +sentimental when he was not hungry. They walked in the moonlight by +the railings of the park. Richard harangued at leisure, while +Ripton's teeth chattered. Chivalry might be dead, but still there +was something to do, went the strain. The lady of the day had not +been thrown in the hero's path without an object, he said; and he +was sadly right there. He did not express the thing clearly; +nevertheless Ripton understood him to mean, he intended to rescue +that lady from further transgressions, and show a certain scorn of +the world. That lady, and then other ladies unknown, were to be +rescued. Ripton was to help. He and Ripton were to be the knights of +this enterprise. When appealed to, Ripton acquiesced, and shivered. +Not only were they to be knights, they would have to be Titans, for +the powers of the world, the spurious ruling Social Gods, would have +to be defied and overthrown. And Titan number one flung up his +handsome bold face as if to challenge base Jove on the spot; and +Titan number two strained the upper button of his coat to meet +across his pocket-handkerchief on his chest, and warmed his fingers +under his coat-tails. The moon had fallen from her high seat and was +in the mists of the West, when he was allowed to seek his blankets, +and the cold acting on his friend's eloquence made Ripton's flesh +very contrite. The poor fellow had thinner blood than the hero; but +his heart was good. By the time he had got a little warmth about +him, his heart gratefully strove to encourage him in the conception +of becoming a knight and a Titan; and so striving Ripton fell asleep +and dreamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +MRS. BERRY ON MATRIMONY + + +Behold the hero embarked in the redemption of an erring beautiful +woman. + + "Alas!" writes the Pilgrim at this very time to Lady Blandish, + "I cannot get that legend of the Serpent from me, the more I + think. Has he not caught you, and ranked you foremost in his + legions? For see: till you were fashioned, the fruits hung + immobile on the boughs. They swayed before us, glistening and + cold. The hand must be eager that plucked them. They did not + come down to us, and smile, and speak our language, and read + our thoughts, and know when to fly, when to follow! how surely + to have us! + + "Do but mark one of you standing openly in the track of the + Serpent. What shall be done with her? I fear the world is wiser + than its judges! Turn from her, says the world. By day the sons + of the world do. It darkens, and they dance together downward. + Then comes there one of the world's elect who deems old counsel + devilish; indifference to the end of evil worse than its + pursuit. He comes to reclaim her. From deepest bane will he + bring her back to highest blessing. Is not that a bait already? + Poor fish! 'tis wondrous flattering. The Serpent has slimed her + so to secure him! With slow weary steps he draws her into + light: she clings to him; she is human; part of his work, and + he loves it. As they mount upward, he looks on her more, while + she, it may be, looks above. What has touched him? What has + passed out of her, and into him? The Serpent laughs below. At + the gateways of the Sun they fall together!" + +This alliterative production was written without any sense of the +peril that makes prophecy. + +It suited Sir Austin to write thus. It was a channel to his acrimony +moderated through his philosophy. The letter was a reply to a +vehement entreaty from Lady Blandish for him to come up to Richard +and forgive him thoroughly: Richard's name was not mentioned in it. + +"He tries to be more than he is," thought the lady: and she began +insensibly to conceive him less than he was. + +The baronet was conscious of a certain false gratification in his +son's apparent obedience to his wishes and complete submission; a +gratification he chose to accept as his due, without dissecting or +accounting for it. The intelligence reiterating that Richard waited, +and still waited; Richard's letters, and more his dumb abiding and +practical penitence; vindicated humanity sufficiently to stop the +course of virulent aphorisms. He could speak, we have seen, in +sorrow for this frail nature of ours, that he had once stood forth +to champion. "But how long will this last?" he demanded, with the +air of Hippias. He did not reflect how long it had lasted. Indeed, +his indigestion of wrath had made of him a moral Dyspepsy. + +It was not mere obedience that held Richard from the arms of his +young wife: nor was it this new knightly enterprise he had presumed +to undertake. Hero as he was, a youth, open to the insane promptings +of hot blood, he was not a fool. There had been talk between him and +Mrs. Doria of his mother. Now that he had broken from his father, +his heart spoke for her. She lived, he knew: he knew no more. Words +painfully hovering along the borders of plain speech had been +communicated to him, filling him with moody imaginings. If he +thought of her, the red was on his face, though he could not have +said why. But now, after canvassing the conduct of his father, and +throwing him aside as a terrible riddle, he asked Mrs. Doria to tell +him of his other parent. As softly as she could she told the story. +To her the shame was past: she could weep for the poor lady. Richard +dropped no tears. Disgrace of this kind is always present to a son, +and, educated as he had been, these tidings were a vivid fire in his +brain. He resolved to hunt her out, and take her from the man. Here +was work set to his hand. All her dear husband did was right to +Lucy. She encouraged him to stay for that purpose, thinking it also +served another. There was Tom Bakewell to watch over Lucy: there +was work for him to do. Whether it would please his father he did +not stop to consider. As to the justice of the act, let us say +nothing. + +On Ripton devolved the humbler task of grubbing for Sandoe's place +of residence; and as he was unacquainted with the name by which the +poet now went in private, his endeavours were not immediately +successful. The friends met in the evening at Lady Blandish's +town-house, or at the Foreys', where Mrs. Doria procured the reverer +of the Royal Martyr, and staunch conservative, a favourable +reception. Pity, deep pity for Richard's conduct Ripton saw +breathing out of Mrs. Doria. Algernon Feverel treated his nephew +with a sort of rough commiseration, as a young fellow who had run +off the road. + +Pity was in Lady Blandish's eyes, though for a different cause. She +doubted if she did well in seconding his father's unwise +scheme--supposing him to have a scheme. She saw the young husband +encompassed by dangers at a critical time. Not a word of Mrs. Mount +had been breathed to her, but the lady had some knowledge of life. +She touched on delicate verges to the baronet in her letters, and he +understood her well enough. "If he loves this person to whom he has +bound himself, what fear for him? Or are you coming to think it +something that bears the name of love because we have to veil the +rightful appellation?" So he responded, remote among the mountains. +She tried very hard to speak plainly. Finally he came to say, that +he denied himself the pleasure of seeing his son specially, that he +for a time might be put to the test the lady seemed to dread. This +was almost too much for Lady Blandish. Love's charity boy so loftily +serene now that she saw him half denuded--a thing of shanks and +wrists--was a trial for her true heart. + +Going home at night Richard would laugh at the faces made about his +marriage. "We'll carry the day, Rip, my Lucy and I! or I'll do it +alone--what there is to do." He slightly adverted to a natural want +of courage in women, which Ripton took to indicate that his Beauty +was deficient in that quality. Up leapt the Old Dog; "I'm sure there +never was a braver creature upon earth, Richard! She's as brave as +she's lovely, I'll swear she is! Look how she behaved that day! How +her voice sounded! She was trembling.... Brave? She'd follow you +into battle Richard!" + +And Richard rejoined: "Talk on, dear old Rip! She's my darling love, +whatever she is! And she is gloriously lovely. No eyes are like +hers. I'll go down to-morrow morning the first thing." + +Ripton only wondered the husband of such a treasure could remain +apart from it. So thought Richard for a space. + +"But if I go, Rip," he said despondently, "if I go for a day even I +shall have undone all my work with my father. She says it +herself--you saw it in her last letter." + +"Yes," Ripton assented, and the words "Please remember me to dear +Mr. Thompson," fluttered about the Old Dog's heart. + + * * * * * + +It came to pass that Mrs. Berry, having certain business that led +her through Kensington Gardens, spied a figure that she had once +dandled in long clothes, and helped make a man of, if ever woman +did. He was walking under the trees beside a lady, talking to her, +not indifferently. The gentleman was her bridegroom and her babe. "I +know his back," said Mrs. Berry, as if she had branded a mark on it +in infancy. But the lady was not her bride. Mrs. Berry diverged from +the path, and got before them on the left flank; she stared, +retreated, and came round upon the right. There was that in the +lady's face which Mrs. Berry did not like. Her innermost question +was, why he was not walking with his own wife? She stopped in front +of them. They broke, and passed about her. The lady made a laughing +remark to him, whereat he turned to look, and Mrs. Berry bobbed. She +had to bob a second time, and then he remembered the worthy +creature, and hailed her Penelope, shaking her hand so that he put +her in countenance again. Mrs. Berry was extremely agitated. He +dismissed her, promising to call upon her in the evening. She heard +the lady slip out something from a side of her lip, and they both +laughed as she toddled off to a sheltering tree to wipe a corner of +each eye. "I don't like the looks of that woman," she said, and +repeated it resolutely. + +"Why doesn't he walk arm-in-arm with her?" was her next inquiry. +"Where's his wife?" succeeded it. After many interrogations of the +sort, she arrived at naming the lady a bold-faced thing; adding +subsequently, brazen. The lady had apparently shown Mrs. Berry that +she wished to get rid of her, and had checked the outpouring of her +emotions on the breast of her babe. "I know a lady when I see one," +said Mrs. Berry. "I haven't lived with 'em for nothing; and if she's +a lady bred and born, I wasn't married in the church alive." + +Then, if not a lady, what was she? Mrs. Berry desired to know. +"She's imitation lady, I'm sure she is!" Berry vowed. "I say she +don't look proper." + +Establishing the lady to be a spurious article, however, what was +one to think of a married man in company with such? "Oh no! it ain't +that!" Mrs. Berry returned immediately on the charitable tack. +"Belike it's some one of his acquaintance 've married her for her +looks, and he've just met her.... Why it'd be as bad as my Berry!" +the relinquished spouse of Berry ejaculated, in horror at the idea +of a second man being so monstrous in wickedness. "Just coupled, +too!" Mrs. Berry groaned on the suspicious side of the debate. "And +such a sweet young thing for his wife! But no, I'll never believe +it. Not if he tell me so himself! And men don't do that," she +whimpered. + +Women are swift at coming to conclusions in these matters; soft +women exceedingly swift: and soft women who have been betrayed are +rapid beyond measure. Mrs. Berry had not cogitated long ere she +pronounced distinctly and without a shadow of dubiosity: "My opinion +is--married or not married, and wheresomever he pick her up--she's +nothin' more nor less than a Bella Donna!" as which poisonous plant +she forthwith registered the lady in the botanical note-book of her +brain. It would have astonished Mrs. Mount to have heard her person +so accurately hit off at a glance. + +In the evening Richard made good his promise, accompanied by Ripton. +Mrs. Berry opened the door to them. She could not wait to get him +into the parlour. "You're my own blessed babe; and I'm as good as +your mother,--though I didn't suck ye, bein' a maid!" she cried, +falling into his arms, while Richard did his best to support the +unexpected burden. Then reproaching him tenderly for his guile--at +mention of which Ripton chuckled, deeming it his own most honourable +portion of the plot--Mrs. Berry led them into the parlour, and +revealed to Richard who she was, and how she had tossed him, and +hugged him, and kissed him all over, when he was only that +big--showing him her stumpy fat arm. "I kissed ye from head to tail, +I did," said Mrs. Berry, "and you needn't be ashamed of it. It's be +hoped you'll never have nothin' worse come t'ye, my dear!" + +Richard assured her he was not a bit ashamed, but warned her that +she must not do it now, Mrs. Berry admitting it was out of the +question now, and now that he had a wife, moreover. The young men +laughed, and Ripton laughing over-loudly drew on himself Mrs. +Berry's attention: "But that Mr. Thompson there--however he can look +me in the face after his inn'cence! helping blindfold an old +woman!--though I ain't sorry for what I did--that I'm free for to +say, and it's over, and blessed be all! Amen! So now where is she +and how is she, Mr. Richard, my dear--it's only cuttin' off the 's' +and you are as you was.--Why didn't ye bring her with ye to see her +old Berry?" + +Richard hurriedly explained that Lucy was still in the Isle of +Wight. + +"Oh! and you've left her for a day or two?" said Mrs. Berry. + +"Good God! I wish it had been a day or two," cried Richard. + +"Ah! and how long have it been?" asked Mrs. Berry, her heart +beginning to beat at his manner of speaking. + +"Don't talk about it," said Richard. + +"Oh! you never been dudgeonin' already? Oh! you haven't been peckin' +at one another yet?" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. + +Ripton interposed to tell her such fears were unfounded. + +"Then how long ha' you been divided?" + +In a guilty voice Ripton stammered "since September." + +"September!" breathed Mrs. Berry, counting on her fingers, +"September, October, Nov--two months and more! nigh three! A young +married husband away from the wife of his bosom nigh three months! +Oh my! Oh my! what do that mean?" + +"My father sent for me--I'm waiting to see him," said Richard. A few +more words helped Mrs. Berry to comprehend the condition of affairs. +Then Mrs. Berry spread her lap, flattened out her hands, fixed her +eyes, and spoke. + +"My dear young gentleman!--I'd like to call ye my darlin' babe! I'm +going to speak as a mother to ye, whether ye likes it or no; and +what old Berry says, you won't mind, for she's had ye when there was +no conventionals about ye, and she has the feelin's of a mother to +you, though humble her state. If there's one that know matrimony +it's me, my dear, though Berry did give me no more but nine months +of it: and I've known the worst of matrimony, which, if you wants to +be woful wise, there it is for ye. For what have been my gain? That +man gave me nothin' but his name; and Bessy Andrews was as good as +Bessy Berry, though both is 'Bs,' and says he, you was 'A,' and now +you's 'B,' so you're my A B, he says, write yourself down that, he +says, the bad man, with his jokes!--Berry went to service." Mrs. +Berry's softness came upon her. "So I tell ye, Berry went to +service. He left the wife of his bosom forlorn and he went to +service; because he were al'ays an ambitious man, and wasn't, so to +speak, happy out of his uniform--which was his livery--not even in +my arms: and he let me know it. He got among them kitchen sluts, +which was my mournin' ready made, and worse than a widow's cap to +me, which is no shame to wear, and some say becoming. There's no man +as ever lived known better than my Berry how to show his legs to +advantage, and gals look at 'em. I don't wonder now that Berry was +prostrated. His temptations was strong, and his flesh was weak. Then +what I say is, that for a young married man--be he whomsoever he may +be--to be separated from the wife of his bosom--a young sweet thing, +and he an innocent young gentleman!--so to sunder, in their state, +and be kep' from each other, I say it's as bad as bad can be! For +what is matrimony, my dears? We're told it's a holy Ordnance. And +why are ye so comfortable in matrimony? For that ye are not a +sinnin'! And they that severs ye they tempts ye to stray: and you +learn too late the meanin' o' them blessin's of the priest--as it was +ordained. Separate--what comes? Fust it's like the circulation of your +blood a-stoppin'--all goes wrong. Then there's misunderstandings--ye've +both lost the key. Then, behold ye, there's birds o' prey hoverin' over +each on ye, and it's which'll be snapped up fust. Then--Oh, dear! Oh, +dear! it be like the devil come into the world again." Mrs. Berry +struck her hands and moaned. "A day I'll give ye: I'll go so far as a +week: but there's the outside. Three months dwellin' apart! That's not +matrimony, it's divorcin'! what can it be to her but widowhood? +widowhood with no cap to show for it! And what can it be to you, my +dear? Think! you been a bachelor three months! and a bachelor man," +Mrs. Berry shook her head most dolefully, "he ain't a widow woman. +I don't go to compare you to Berry, my dear young gentleman. Some +men's hearts is vagabonds born--they must go astray--it's their natur' +to. But all men are men, and I know the foundation of 'em, by reason +of my woe." + +Mrs. Berry paused. Richard was humorously respectful to the sermon. +The truth in the good creature's address was not to be disputed, or +despised, notwithstanding the inclination to laugh provoked by her +quaint way of putting it. Ripton nodded encouragingly at every +sentence, for he saw her drift, and wished to second it. + +Seeking for an illustration of her meaning, Mrs. Berry solemnly +continued: "We all know what checked prespiration is." But neither +of the young gentlemen could resist this. Out they burst in a roar +of laughter. + +"Laugh away," said Mrs. Berry. "I don't mind ye. I say agin, we all +do know what checked prespiration is. It fly to the lungs, it gives +ye mortal inflammation, and it carries ye off. Then I say checked +matrimony is as bad. It fly to the heart, and it carries off the +virtue that's in ye, and you might as well be dead! Them that is +joined it's their salvation not to separate! It don't so much matter +before it. That Mr. Thompson there--if he go astray, it ain't from +the blessed fold. He hurt himself alone--not double, and belike +treble, for who can say now what may be? There's time for it. I'm +for holding back young people so that they knows their minds, +howsomever they rattles about their hearts. I ain't a speeder of +matrimony, and good's my reason! but where it's been done--where +they're lawfully joined, and their bodies made one, I do say this, +that to put division between 'em then, it's to make wanderin' comets +of 'em--creatures without a objeck, and no soul can say what they's +good for but to rush about!" + +Mrs. Berry here took a heavy breath, as one who has said her utmost +for the time being. + +"My dear old girl," Richard went up to her and, applauding her on +the shoulder, "you're a very wise old woman. But you mustn't speak +to me as if I wanted to stop here. I'm compelled to. I do it for her +good chiefly." + +"It's your father that's doin' it, my dear?" + +"Well, I'm waiting his pleasure." + +"A pretty pleasure! puttin' a snake in the nest of young +turtle-doves! And why don't she come up to you?" + +"Well, that you must ask her. The fact is, she's a little timid +girl--she wants me to see him first, and when I've made all right, +then she'll come." + +"A little timid girl!" cried Mrs. Berry. "Oh, lor', how she must ha' +deceived ye to make ye think that! Look at that ring," she held out +her finger, "he's a stranger: he's not my lawful! You know what ye +did to me, my dear. Could I get my own wedding-ring back from her? +'No!' says she, firm as a rock, 'he said, _with this ring_ I thee +wed'--I think I see her now, with her pretty eyes and lovesome +locks--a darlin'!--And that ring she'd keep to, come life, come +death. And she must ha' been a rock for me to give in to her in +that. For what's the consequence? Here am I," Mrs. Berry smoothed +down the back of her hand mournfully, "here am I in a strange ring, +that's like a strange man holdin' of me, and me a-wearin' of it just +to seem decent, and feelin' all over no better than a b---- a +big--that nasty name I can't abide!--I tell you, my dear, she ain't +soft, no!--except to the man of her heart; and the best of women's +too soft there--more's our sorrow!" + +"Well, well!" said Richard, who thought he knew. + +"I agree with you, Mrs. Berry," Ripton struck in, "Mrs. Richard +would do anything in the world her husband asked her, I'm quite +sure." + +"Bless you for your good opinion, Mr. Thompson! Why, see her! she +ain't frail on her feet; she looks ye straight in the eyes; she +ain't one of your hang-down misses. Look how she behaved at the +ceremony!" + +"Ah!" sighed Ripton. + +"And if you'd ha' seen her when she spoke to me about my ring! +Depend upon it, my dear Mr. Richard, if she blinded you about the +nerve she've got, it was somethin' she thought she ought to do for +your sake, and I wish I'd been by to counsel her, poor blessed +babe!--And how much longer, now, can ye stay divided from that +darlin'?" + +Richard paced up and down. + +"A father's will," urged Mrs. Berry, "that's a son's law; but he +mustn't go again' the laws of his nature to do it." + +"Just be quiet at present--talk of other things, there's a good +woman," said Richard. + +Mrs. Berry meekly folded her arms. + +"How strange, now, our meetin' like this! meetin' at all, too!" she +remarked contemplatively. "It's them advertisements! They brings +people together from the ends of the earth, for good or for bad. I +often say, there's more lucky accidents, or unlucky ones, since +advertisements was the rule, than ever there was before. They make a +number of romances, depend upon it! Do you walk much in the Gardens, +my dear?" + +"Now and then," said Richard. + +"Very pleasant it is there with the fine folks and flowers and +titled people," continued Mrs. Berry. "That was a handsome woman you +was a-walkin' beside, this mornin'." + +"Very," said Richard. + +"She was a handsome woman! or I should say, is, for her day ain't +past, and she know it. I thought at first--by her back--it might ha' +been your aunt, Mrs. Forey; for she do step out well and hold up her +shoulders: straight as a dart she be! But when I come to see her +face--Oh, dear me! says I, this ain't one of the family. They none +of 'em got such bold faces--nor no _lady_ as I know have. But she's +a fine woman--that nobody can gainsay." + +Mrs. Berry talked further of the fine woman. It was a liberty she +took to speak in this disrespectful tone of her, and Mrs. Berry was +quite aware that she was laying herself open to rebuke. She had her +end in view. No rebuke was uttered, and during her talk she observed +intercourse passing between the eyes of the young men. + +"Look here, Penelope," Richard stopped her at last. "Will it make +you comfortable if I tell you I'll obey the laws of my nature and go +down at the end of the week?" + +"I'll thank the Lord of heaven if you do!" she exclaimed. + +"Very well, then--be happy--I will. Now listen. I want you to keep +your rooms for me--those she had. I expect, in a day or two, to +bring a lady here"---- + +"A lady?" faltered Mrs. Berry. + +"Yes. A lady." + +"May I make so bold as to ask what lady?" + +"You may not. Not now. Of course you will know." + +Mrs. Berry's short neck made the best imitation it could of an +offended swan's action. She was very angry. She said she did not +like so many ladies, which natural objection Richard met by saying +that there was only one lady. + +"And Mrs. Berry," he added, dropping his voice. "You will treat her +as you did my dear girl, for she will require not only shelter but +kindness. I would rather leave her with you than with any one. She +has been very unfortunate." + +His serious air and habitual tone of command fascinated the softness +of Berry, and it was not until he had gone that she spoke out. +"Unfort'nate! He's going to bring me an unfort'nate female! Oh! not +from my babe can I bear that! Never will I have her here! I see it. +It's that bold-faced woman he's got mixed up in, and she've been and +made the young man think he'll go for to reform her. It's one o' +their arts--that is; and he's too innocent a young man to mean +anythin' else. But I ain't a house of Magdalens--no! and sooner than +have her here I'd have the roof fall over me, I would." + +She sat down to eat her supper on the sublime resolve. + +In love, Mrs. Berry's charity was all on the side of the law, and +this is the case with many of her sisters. The PILGRIM sneers at +them for it, and would have us credit that it is their admirable +instinct which, at the expense of every virtue save one, preserves +the artificial barrier simply to impose upon us. Men, I presume, are +hardly fair judges, and should stand aside and mark. + +Early next day Mrs. Berry bundled off to Richard's hotel to let him +know her determination. She did not find him there. Returning +homeward through the park, she beheld him on horseback riding by the +side of the identical lady. The sight of this public exposure +shocked her more than the secret walk under the trees. "You don't +look near your reform yet," Mrs. Berry apostrophized her. "You don't +look to me one that'd come the Fair Penitent till you've left off +bein' fair--if then you do, which some of ye don't. Laugh away and +show yer airs! Spite o' your hat and feather, and your ridin' habit, +you're a Bella Donna." Setting her down again absolutely for such, +whatever it might signify, Mrs. Berry had a virtuous glow. + +In the evening she heard the noise of wheels stopping at the door. +"Never!" she rose from her chair to exclaim. "He ain't rided her out +in the mornin', and been and made a Magdalen of her afore dark?" + +A lady veiled was brought into the house by Richard. Mrs. Berry +feebly tried to bar his progress in the passage. He pushed past her, +and conducted the lady into the parlour without speaking. Mrs. Berry +did not follow. She heard him murmur a few sentences within. Then he +came out. All her crest stood up, as she whispered vigorously, "Mr. +Richard! if that woman stay here, I go forth. My house ain't a +penitentiary for unfort'nate females, sir"---- + +He frowned at her curiously; but as she was on the point of renewing +her indignant protest, he clapped his hand across her mouth, and +spoke words in her ear that had awful import to her. She trembled, +breathing low: "My God, forgive me! Lady Feverel is it? Your mother, +Mr. Richard?" And her virtue was humbled. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +AN ENCHANTRESS + + +One may suppose that a prematurely aged, oily little man; a poet in +bad circumstances; a decrepit butterfly chained to a disappointed +inkstand, will not put out strenuous energies to retain his ancient +paramour when a robust young man comes imperatively to demand his +mother of him in her person. The colloquy was short between Diaper +Sandoe and Richard. The question was referred to the poor spiritless +lady, who, seeing that her son made no question of it, cast herself +on his hands. Small loss to her was Diaper; but he was the loss of +habit, and that is something to a woman who has lived. The blood of +her son had been running so long alien from her that the sense of +her motherhood smote her now with strangeness, and Richard's stern +gentleness seemed like dreadful justice come upon her. Her heart had +almost forgotten its maternal functions. She called him Sir, till he +bade her remember he was her son. Her voice sounded to him like that +of a broken-throated lamb, so painful and weak it was, with the +plaintive stop in the utterance. When he kissed her, her skin was +cold. Her thin hand fell out of his when his grasp relaxed. "Can sin +hunt one like this?" he asked, bitterly reproaching himself for the +shame she had caused him to endure, and a deep compassion filled his +breast. + +Poetic justice had been dealt to Diaper the poet. He thought of all +he had sacrificed for this woman--the comfortable quarters, the +friend, the happy flights. He could not but accuse her of +unfaithfulness in leaving him in his old age. Habit had legalized +his union with her. He wrote as pathetically of the break of habit +as men feel at the death of love; and when we are old and have no +fair hope tossing golden locks before us, a wound to this our second +nature is quite as sad. I know not even if it be not actually +sadder. + +Day by day Richard visited his mother. Lady Blandish and Ripton +alone were in the secret. Adrian let him do as he pleased. He +thought proper to tell him that the public recognition he accorded +to a particular lady was, in the present state of the world, +scarcely prudent. + +"'Tis a proof to me of your moral rectitude, my son, but the world +will not think so. No one character is sufficient to cover two--in a +Protestant country especially. The divinity that doth hedge a Bishop +would have no chance in contact with your Madam Danae. Drop the +woman, my son. Or permit _me_ to speak what you would have her +hear." + +Richard listened to him with disgust. + +"Well, you've had my doctorial warning," said Adrian, and plunged +back into his book. + +When Lady Feverel had revived to take part in the consultations Mrs. +Berry perpetually opened on the subject of Richard's matrimonial +duty, another chain was cast about him. "Do not, oh, do not offend +your father!" was her one repeated supplication. Sir Austin had +grown to be a vindictive phantom in her mind. She never wept but +when she said this. + +So Mrs. Berry, to whom Richard had once made mention of Lady +Blandish as the only friend he had among women, bundled off in her +black-satin dress to obtain an interview with her, and an ally. +After coming to an understanding on the matter of the visit, and +reiterating many of her views concerning young married people, Mrs. +Berry said: "My lady, if I may speak so bold, I'd say the sin that's +bein' done is the sin o' the lookers-on. And when everybody appear +frightened by that young gentleman's father, I'll say--hopin' your +pardon--they no cause be frighted at all. For though it's nigh +twenty year since I knew him, and I knew him then just sixteen +months--no more--I'll say his heart's as soft as a woman's, which +I've cause for to know. And that's it. That's where everybody's +deceived by him, and I was. It's because he keeps his face, and +makes ye think you're dealin' with a man of iron, and all the while +there's a woman underneath. And a man that's like a woman he's the +puzzle o' life! We can see through ourselves, my lady, and we can +see through men, but one o' that sort--he's like somethin' out of +nature. Then I say--hopin' be excused--what's to do is for to treat +him _like_ a woman, and not for to let him 'ave his own way--which +he don't know himself, and is why nobody else do. Let that sweet +young couple come together, and be wholesome in spite of him, I say; +and then give him time to come round, just like a woman; and round +he'll come, and give 'em his blessin', and we shall know we've made +him comfortable. He's angry because matrimony have come between him +and his son, and he, woman-like, he's wantin' to treat what is as if +it isn't. But matrimony's a holier than him. It began long long +before him, and it's be hoped will endoor long's the time after, if +the world's not coming to rack--wishin' him no harm." + +Now Mrs. Berry only put Lady Blandish's thoughts in bad English. The +lady took upon herself seriously to advise Richard to send for his +wife. He wrote, bidding her come. Lucy, however, had wits, and +inexperienced wits are as a little knowledge. In pursuance of her +sage plan to make the family feel her worth, and to conquer the +members of it one by one, she had got up a correspondence with +Adrian, whom it tickled. Adrian constantly assured her all was going +well: time would heal the wound if both the offenders had the +fortitude to be patient: he fancied he saw signs of the baronet's +relenting: they must do nothing to arrest those favourable symptoms. +Indeed the wise youth was languidly seeking to produce them. He +wrote, and felt, as Lucy's benefactor. So Lucy replied to her +husband a cheerful rigmarole he could make nothing of, save that she +was happy in hope, and still had fears. Then Mrs. Berry trained her +fist to indite a letter to her bride. Her bride answered it by +saying she trusted to time. "You poor marter," Mrs. Berry wrote +back, "I know what your sufferin's be. They is the only kind a wife +should never hide from her husband. He thinks all sorts of things if +she can abide being away. And you trusting to time, why it's like +trusting not to catch cold out of your natural clothes." There was +no shaking Lucy's firmness. + +Richard gave it up. He began to think that the life lying behind him +was the life of a fool. What had he done in it? He had burnt a rick +and got married! He associated the two acts of his existence. Where +was the hero he was to have carved out of Tom Bakewell!--a wretch he +had taught to lie and chicane: and for what? Great heavens! how +ignoble did a flash from the light of his aspirations make his +marriage appear! The young man sought amusement. He allowed his aunt +to drag him into society, and sick of that he made late evening +calls on Mrs. Mount, oblivious of the purpose he had in visiting her +at all. Her man-like conversation, which he took for honesty, was a +refreshing change on fair lips. + +"Call me Bella: I'll call you Dick," said she. And it came to be +Bella and Dick between them. No mention of Bella occurred in +Richard's letters to Lucy. + +Mrs. Mount spoke quite openly of herself. "I pretend to be no better +than I am," she said, "and I know I'm no worse than many a woman who +holds her head high." To back this she told him stories of blooming +dames of good repute, and poured a little social sewerage into his +ears. + +Also she understood him. "What you want, my dear Dick, is something +to do. You went and got married like a--hum!--friends must be +respectful. Go into the Army. Try the turf. I can put you up to a +trick or two--friends should make themselves useful." + +She told him what she liked in him. "You're the only man I was ever +alone with who don't talk to me of love and make me feel sick. I +hate men who can't speak to a woman sensibly.--Just wait a minute." +She left him and presently returned with, "Ah, Dick! old fellow! how +are you?"--arrayed like a cavalier, one arm stuck in her side, her +hat jauntily cocked, and a pretty oath on her lips to give reality +to the costume. "What do you think of me? Wasn't it a shame to make +a woman of me when I was born to be a man?" + +"I don't know that," said Richard, for the contrast in her attire to +those shooting eyes and lips, aired her sex bewitchingly. + +"What! you think I don't do it well?" + +"Charming! but I can't forget...." + +"Now that is too bad!" she pouted. + +Then she proposed that they should go out into the midnight streets +arm-in-arm, and out they went and had great fits of laughter at her +impertinent manner of using her eye-glass, and outrageous +affectation of the supreme dandy. + +"They take up men, Dick, for going about in women's clothes, and +vice versaw, I suppose. You'll bail me, old fellaa, if I have to +make my bow to the beak, won't you? Say it's becas I'm an honest +woman and don't care to hide the--a--unmentionables when I wear +them--as the t'others do," sprinkled with the dandy's famous +invocations. + +He began to conceive romance in that sort of fun. + +"You're a wopper, my brave Dick! won't let any peeler take me? by +Jove!" + +And he with many assurances guaranteed to stand by her, while she +bent her thin fingers trying the muscle of his arm, and reposed upon +it more. There was delicacy in her dandyism. She was a graceful +cavalier. + +"Sir Julius," as they named the dandy's attire, was frequently +called for on his evening visits to Mrs. Mount. When he beheld Sir +Julius he thought of the lady, and "vice versaw," as Sir Julius was +fond of exclaiming. + +Was ever hero in this fashion wooed? + +The woman now and then would peep through Sir Julius. Or she would +sit, and talk, and altogether forget she was impersonating that +worthy fop. + +She never uttered an idea or a reflection, but Richard thought her +the cleverest woman he had ever met. + +All kinds of problematic notions beset him. She was cold as ice, she +hated talk about love, and she was branded by the world. + +A rumour spread that reached Mrs. Doria's ears. She rushed to Adrian +first. The wise youth believed there was nothing in it. She sailed +down upon Richard. "Is this true? that you have been seen going +publicly about with an infamous woman, Richard? Tell me! pray, +relieve me!" + +Richard knew of no person answering to his aunt's description in +whose company he could have been seen. + +"Tell me, I say! Don't quibble. Do you know _any_ woman of bad +character?" + +The acquaintance of a lady very much misjudged and ill-used by the +world, Richard admitted to. + +Urgent grave advice Mrs. Doria tendered her nephew, both from the +moral and the worldly point of view, mentally ejaculating all the +while: "That ridiculous System! That disgraceful marriage!" Sir +Austin in his mountain solitude was furnished with serious stuff to +brood over. + +The rumour came to Lady Blandish. She likewise lectured Richard, and +with her he condescended to argue. But he found himself obliged to +instance something he had quite neglected. "Instead of her doing me +harm, it's I that will do her good." + +Lady Blandish shook her head and held up her finger. "This person +must be very clever to have given you that delusion, dear." + +"She _is_ clever. And the world treats her shamefully." + +"She complains of her position to you?" + +"Not a word. But I will stand by her. She has no friend but me." + +"My poor boy! has she made you think that?" + +"How unjust you all are!" cried Richard. + +"How mad and wicked is the man who can let him be tempted so!" +thought Lady Blandish. + +He would pronounce no promise not to visit her, not to address her +publicly. The world that condemned her and cast her out was no +better--worse for its miserable hypocrisy. He knew the world now, +the young man said. + +"My child! the world may be very bad. I am not going to defend it. +But you have some one else to think of. Have you forgotten you have +a wife, Richard?" + +"Ay! you all speak of her now. There's my aunt: 'Remember you have a +wife!' Do you think I love any one but Lucy? poor little thing! +Because I am married am I to give up the society of women?" + +"Of women!" + +"Isn't she a woman?" + +"Too much so!" sighed the defender of her sex. + +Adrian became more emphatic in his warnings. Richard laughed at him. +The wise youth sneered at Mrs. Mount. The hero then favoured him +with a warning equal to his own in emphasis, and surpassing it in +sincerity. + +"We won't quarrel, my dear boy," said Adrian. "I'm a man of peace. +Besides, we are not fairly proportioned for a combat. Ride your +steed to virtue's goal! All I say is, that I think he'll upset you, +and it's better to go a slow pace and in companionship with the +children of the sun. You have a very nice little woman for a +wife--well, good-bye!" + +To have his wife and the world thrown at his face, was unendurable +to Richard; he associated them somewhat after the manner of the rick +and the marriage. Charming Sir Julius, always gay, always honest, +dispersed his black moods. + +"Why, you're taller," Richard made the discovery. + +"Of course I am. Don't you remember you said I was such a little +thing when I came out of my woman's shell?" + +"And how have you done it?" + +"Grown to please you." + +"Now, if you can do that, you can do anything." + +"And so I would do anything." + +"You would?" + +"Honour!" + +"Then" ... his project recurred to him. But the incongruity of +speaking seriously to Sir Julius struck him dumb. + +"Then what?" asked she. + +"Then you're a gallant fellow." + +"That all?" + +"Isn't it enough?" + +"Not quite. You were going to say something. I saw it in your eyes." + +"You saw that I admired you." + +"Yes, but a man mustn't admire a man." + +"I suppose I had an idea you were a woman." + +"What! when I had the heels of my boots raised half an inch," Sir +Julius turned one heel, and volleyed out silver laughter. + +"I don't come much above your shoulder even now," she said, and +proceeded to measure her height beside him with arch up-glances. + +"You must grow more." + +"'Fraid I can't, Dick! Bootmakers can't do it." + +"I'll show you how," and he lifted Sir Julius lightly, and bore the +fair gentleman to the looking-glass, holding him there exactly on a +level with his head. "Will that do?" + +"Yes! Oh, but I can't stay here." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Why can't I?" + +He should have known then--it was thundered at a closed door in him, +that he played with fire. But the door being closed, he thought +himself internally secure. + +Their eyes met. He put her down instantly. + +Sir Julius, charming as he was, lost his vogue. Seeing that, the +wily woman resumed her shell. The memory of Sir Julius breathing +about her still, doubled the feminine attraction. + +"I ought to have been an actress," she said. + +Richard told her he found all natural women had a similar wish. + +"Yes! Ah! then! if I had been!" sighed Mrs. Mount, gazing on the +pattern of the carpet. + +He took her hand, and pressed it. + +"You are not happy as you are?" + +"No." + +"May I speak to you?" + +"Yes." + +Her nearest eye, setting a dimple of her cheek in motion, slid to +the corner toward her ear, as she sat with her head sideways to him, +listening. When he had gone, she said to herself: "Old hypocrites +talk in that way; but I never heard of a young man doing it, and not +making love at the same time." + +Their next meeting displayed her quieter: subdued as one who had +been set thinking. He lauded her fair looks. "Don't make me thrice +ashamed," she petitioned. + +But it was not only that mood with her. Dauntless defiance, that +splendidly befitted her gallant outline and gave a wildness to her +bright bold eyes, when she would call out: "Happy? who dares say I'm +not happy? D'you think if the world whips me I'll wince? D'you think +I care for what they say or do? Let them kill me! they shall never +get one cry out of me!" and flashing on the young man as if he were +the congregated enemy, add: "There! now you know me!"--that was a +mood that well became her, and helped the work. She ought to have +been an actress. + +"This must not go on," said Lady Blandish and Mrs. Doria in unison. +A common object brought them together. They confined their talk to +it, and did not disagree. Mrs. Doria engaged to go down to the +baronet. Both ladies knew it was a dangerous, likely to turn out a +disastrous, expedition. They agreed to it because it was something +to do, and doing anything is better than doing nothing. "Do it," +said the wise youth, when they made him a third, "do it, if you want +him to be a hermit for life. You will bring back nothing but his +dead body, ladies--a Hellenic, rather than a Roman, triumph. He will +listen to you--he will accompany you to the station--he will hand +you into the carriage--and when you point to his seat he will bow +profoundly, and retire into his congenial mists." + +Adrian spoke their thoughts. They fretted; they relapsed. + +"Speak to him, you, Adrian," said Mrs. Doria. "Speak to the boy +solemnly. It would be almost better he should go back to that little +thing he has married." + +"Almost?" Lady Blandish opened her eyes. "I have been advising it +for the last month and more." + +"A choice of evils," said Mrs. Doria's sour-sweet face and shake of +the head. + +Each lady saw a point of dissension, and mutually agreed, with +heroic effort, to avoid it by shutting their mouths. What was more, +they preserved the peace in spite of Adrian's artifices. + +"Well, I'll talk to him again," he said. "I'll try to get the Engine +on the conventional line." + +"Command him!" exclaimed Mrs. Doria. + +"Gentle means are, I think, the only means with Richard," said Lady +Blandish. + +Throwing banter aside, as much as he could, Adrian spoke to Richard. +"You want to reform this woman. Her manner is open--fair and +free--the traditional characteristic. We won't stop to canvass how +that particular honesty of deportment that wins your approbation has +been gained. In her college it is not uncommon. Girls, you know, are +not like boys. At a certain age they can't be quite natural. It's a +bad sign if they don't blush, and fib, and affect this and that. It +wears off when they're women. But a woman who speaks like a man, and +has all those excellent virtues you admire--where has she learned +the trick? She tells you. You don't surely approve of the school? +Well, what is there in it, then? Reform her, of course. The task is +worthy of your energies. But, if you are appointed to do it, don't +do it publicly, and don't attempt it just now. May I ask you whether +your wife participates in this undertaking?" + +Richard walked away from the interrogation. The wise youth, who +hated long unrelieved speeches and had healed his conscience, said +no more. + +Dear tender Lucy! Poor darling! Richard's eyes moistened. Her +letters seemed sadder latterly. Yet she never called to him to come, +or he would have gone. His heart leapt up to her. He announced to +Adrian that he should wait no longer for his father. Adrian placidly +nodded. + +The enchantress observed that her knight had a clouded brow and an +absent voice. + +"Richard--I can't call you Dick now, I really don't know why"--she +said, "I want to beg a favour of you." + +"Name it. I can still call you Bella, I suppose?" + +"If you care to. What I want to say is this: when you meet me +out--to cut it short--please not to recognize me." + +"And why?" + +"Do you ask to be told _that_?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Then look: I won't compromise you." + +"I see no harm, Bella." + +"No," she caressed his hand, "and there is none. I know that. But," +modest eyelids were drooped, "other people do," struggling eyes were +raised. + +"What do we care for other people?" + +"Nothing. I don't. Not that!" snapping her finger, "I care for you, +though." A prolonged look followed the declaration. + +"You're foolish, Bella." + +"Not quite so giddy--that's all." + +He did not combat it with his usual impetuosity. Adrian's abrupt +inquiry had sunk in his mind, as the wise youth intended it should. +He had instinctively refrained from speaking to Lucy of this lady. +But what a noble creature the woman was! + +So they met in the park; Mrs. Mount whipped past him; and secrecy +added a new sense to their intimacy. + +Adrian was gratified at the result produced by his eloquence. + +Though this lady never expressed an idea, Richard was not mistaken +in her cleverness. She could make evenings pass gaily, and one was +not the fellow to the other. She could make you forget she was a +woman, and then bring the fact startlingly home to you. She could +read men with one quiver of her half-closed eye-lashes. She could +catch the coming mood in a man, and fit herself to it. What does a +woman want with ideas, who can do thus much? Keenness of perception, +conformity, delicacy of handling, these be all the qualities +necessary to parasites. + +Love would have scared the youth: she banished it from her tongue. +It may also have been true that it sickened her. She played on his +higher nature. She understood spontaneously what would be most +strange and taking to him in a woman. Various as the Serpent of old +Nile, she acted fallen beauty, humorous indifference, reckless +daring, arrogance in ruin. And acting thus, what think you?--She did +it so well because she was growing half in earnest. + +"Richard! I am not what I was since I knew you. You will not give me +up quite?" + +"Never, Bella." + +"I am not so bad as I'm painted!" + +"You are only unfortunate." + +"Now that I know you I think so, and yet I am happier." + +She told him her history when this soft horizon of repentance seemed +to throw heaven's twilight across it. A woman's history, you know: +certain chapters expunged. It was dark enough to Richard. + +"Did you love the man?" he asked. "You say you love no one now." + +"Did I love him? He was a nobleman and I a tradesman's daughter. No. +I did not love him. I have lived to learn it. And now I should hate +him, if I did not despise him." + +"Can you be deceived in love?" said Richard, more to himself than to +her. + +"Yes. When we're young we can be very easily deceived. If there is +such a thing as love, we discover it after we have tossed about and +roughed it. Then we find the man, or the woman, that suits us:--and +then it's too late! we can't have him." + +"Singular!" murmured Richard, "she says just what my father said." + +He spoke aloud: "I could forgive you if you had loved him." + +"Don't be harsh, grave judge! How is a girl to distinguish?" + +"You had some affection for him? He was the first?" + +She chose to admit that. "Yes. And the first who talks of love to a +girl must be a fool if he doesn't blind her." + +"That makes what is called first love nonsense." + +"Isn't it?" + +He repelled the insinuation. "Because I know it is not, Bella." + +Nevertheless she had opened a wider view of the world to him, and a +colder. He thought poorly of girls. A woman--a sensible, brave, +beautiful woman seemed, on comparison, infinitely nobler than those +weak creatures. + +She was best in her character of lovely rebel accusing foul +injustice. "What am I to do? You tell me to be different. How can I? +What am I to do? Will virtuous people let me earn my bread? I could +not get a housemaid's place! They wouldn't have me--I see their +noses smelling! Yes: I can go to the hospital and sing behind a +screen! Do you expect me to bury myself alive? Why, man, I have +blood: I can't become a stone. You say I am honest, and I will be. +Then let me tell you that I have been used to luxuries, and I can't +do without them. I might have married men--lots would have had me. +But who marries one like me but a fool? and I could not marry a +fool. The man I marry I must respect. He could not respect me--I +should know him to be a fool, and I should be worse off than I am +now. As I am now, they may look as pious as they like--I laugh at +them!" + +And so forth: direr things. Imputations upon wives: horrible +exultation at the universal peccancy of husbands. This lovely +outcast almost made him think she had the right on her side, so +keenly her Parthian arrows pierced the holy centres of society, and +exposed its rottenness. + +Mrs. Mount's house was discreetly conducted: nothing ever occurred +to shock him there. The young man would ask himself where the +difference was between her and the women of society? How base, too, +was the army of banded hypocrites! He was ready to declare war +against them on her behalf. His casus belli, accurately worded, +would have read curiously. Because the world refused to lure the +lady to virtue with the offer of a housemaid's place, our knight +threw down his challenge. But the lady had scornfully rebutted this +prospect of a return to chastity. Then the form of the challenge +must be: Because the world declined to support the lady in luxury +for nothing! But what did that mean? In other words: she was to +receive the devil's wages without rendering him her services. Such +an arrangement appears hardly fair on the world or on the devil. +Heroes will have to conquer both before they will get them to +subscribe to it. + +Heroes, however, are not in the habit of wording their declarations +of war at all. Lance in rest they challenge and they charge. Like +women they trust to instinct, and graft on it the muscle of men. +Wide fly the leisurely-remonstrating hosts: institutions are +scattered, they know not wherefore, heads are broken that have not +the balm of a reason why. 'Tis instinct strikes! Surely there is +something divine in instinct. + +Still, war declared, where were these hosts? The hero could not +charge down on the ladies and gentlemen in a ballroom, and spoil the +quadrille. He had sufficient reticence to avoid sounding his +challenge in the Law Courts; nor could he well go into the Houses of +Parliament with a trumpet, though to come to a tussle with the +nation's direct representatives did seem the likelier method. It was +likewise out of the question that he should enter every house and +shop, and battle with its master in the cause of Mrs. Mount. Where, +then, was his enemy? Everybody was his enemy, and everybody was +nowhere. Shall he convoke multitudes on Wimbledon Common? Blue +Policemen, and a distant dread of ridicule, bar all his projects. +Alas for the hero in our day! + +Nothing teaches a strong arm its impotence so much as knocking at +empty air. + +"What can I do for this poor woman?" cried Richard, after fighting +his phantom enemy till he was worn out. + +"O Rip! old Rip!" he addressed his friend, "I'm distracted. I wish I +was dead! What good am I for? Miserable! selfish! What have I done +but make every soul I know wretched about me? I follow my own +inclinations--I make people help me by lying as hard as they +can--and I'm a liar. And when I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And +now when I do see something unselfish for me to do, I come upon +grins--I don't know where to turn--how to act--and I laugh at myself +like a devil!" + +It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went +for little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to +be ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth. Richard +added his customary comment of "Poor little thing!" + +He fought his duello with empty air till he was exhausted. A last +letter written to his father procured him no reply. Then, said he, I +have tried my utmost. I have tried to be dutiful--my father won't +listen to me. One thing I can do--I can go down to my dear girl, and +make her happy, and save her at least from some of the consequences +of my rashness. + +"There's nothing better for me!" he groaned. His great ambition must +be covered by a house-top: he and the cat must warm themselves on +the domestic hearth! The hero was not aware that his heart moved him +to this. His heart was not now in open communion with his mind. + +Mrs. Mount heard that her friend was going--would go. She knew he +was going to his wife. Far from discouraging him, she said nobly: +"Go--I believe I have kept you. Let us have an evening together, and +then go: for good, if you like. If not, then to meet again another +time. Forget me. I shan't forget you. You're the best fellow I ever +knew, Richard. You are, on my honour! I swear I would not step in +between you and your wife to cause either of you a moment's +unhappiness. When I can be another woman I will, and I shall think +of you then." + +Lady Blandish heard from Adrian that Richard was positively going to +his wife. The wise youth modestly veiled his own merit in bringing +it about by saying: "I couldn't see that poor little woman left +alone down there any longer." + +"Well! Yes!" said Mrs. Doria, to whom the modest speech was +repeated, "I suppose, poor boy, it's the best he can do now." + +Richard bade them adieu, and went to spend his last evening with +Mrs. Mount. + +The enchantress received him in state. + +"Do you know this dress? No? It's the dress I wore when I first met +you--not when I first saw you. I think I remarked you, sir, before +you deigned to cast an eye upon humble me. When we first met we +drank champagne together, and I intend to celebrate our parting in +the same liquor. Will you liquor with me, old boy?" + +She was gay. She revived Sir Julius occasionally. He, dispirited, +left the talking all to her. + +Mrs. Mount kept a footman. At a late hour the man of calves dressed +the table for supper. It was a point of honour for Richard to sit +down to it and try to eat. Drinking, thanks to the kindly mother +nature, who loves to see her children made fools of, is always an +easier matter. The footman was diligent; the champagne corks feebly +recalled the file-firing at Richmond. + +"We'll drink to what we might have been, Dick," said the +enchantress. + +Oh, the glorious wreck she looked. + +His heart choked as he gulped the buzzing wine. + +"What! down, my boy?" she cried. "They shall never see me hoist +signals of distress. We must all die, and the secret of the thing is +to die game, by Jove! Did you ever hear of Laura Fenn? a superb +girl! handsomer than your humble servant--if you'll believe it--a +'Miss' in the bargain, and as a consequence, I suppose, a much +greater rake. She was in the hunting-field. Her horse threw her, and +she fell plump on a stake. It went into her left breast. All the +fellows crowded round her, and one young man, who was in love with +her--he sits in the House of Peers now--we used to call him 'Duck' +because he was such a dear--he dropped from his horse to his knees: +'Laura! Laura! my darling! speak a word to me!--the last!' She +turned over all white and bloody! 'I--I shan't be in at the death!' +and gave up the ghost! Wasn't that dying game? Here's to the example +of Laura Fenn! Why, what's the matter? See! it makes a man turn pale +to hear how a woman can die. Fill the glasses, John. Why, you're as +bad!" + +"It's give me a turn, my lady," pleaded John, and the man's hand was +unsteady as he poured out the wine. + +"You ought not to listen. Go, and drink some brandy." + +John footman went from the room. + +"My brave Dick! Richard! what a face you've got!" + +He showed a deep frown on a colourless face. + +"Can't you bear to hear of blood? You know, it was only one naughty +woman out of the world. The clergyman of the parish didn't refuse to +give her decent burial. We are Christians! Hurrah!" + +She cheered, and laughed. A lurid splendour glanced about her like +lights from the pit. + +"Pledge me, Dick! Drink, and recover yourself. Who minds? We must +all die--the good and the bad. Ashes to ashes--dust to dust--and +wine for living lips! That's poetry--almost. Sentiment: 'May we +never say die till we've drunk our fill!' Not bad--eh? A little +vulgar, perhaps, by Jove! Do you think me horrid?" + +"Where's the wine?" Richard shouted. He drank a couple of glasses in +succession, and stared about. Was he in hell, with a lost soul +raving to him? + +"Nobly spoken! and nobly acted upon, my brave Dick! Now we'll be +companions. 'She wished that heaven had made her such a man.' Ah, +Dick! Dick! too late! too late!" + +Softly fell her voice. Her eyes threw slanting beams. + +"Do you see this?" + +She pointed to a symbolic golden anchor studded with gems and coiled +with a rope of hair in her bosom. It was a gift of his. + +"Do you know when I stole the lock? Foolish Dick! you gave me an +anchor without a rope. Come and see." + +She rose from the table, and threw herself on the sofa. + +"Don't you recognize your own hair! I should know a thread of mine +among a million." + +Something of the strength of Samson went out of him as he inspected +his hair on the bosom of Delilah. + +"And you knew nothing of it! You hardly know it now you see it! What +couldn't a woman steal from you? But you're not vain, and that's a +protection. You're a miracle, Dick: a man that's not vain! Sit +here." She curled up her feet to give him place on the sofa. "Now +let us talk like friends that part to meet no more. You found a ship +with fever on board, and you weren't afraid to come alongside and +keep her company. The fever isn't catching, you see. Let us mingle +our tears together. Ha! ha! a man said that once to me. The +hypocrite wanted to catch the fever, but he was too old. How old are +you, Dick?" + +Richard pushed a few months forward. + +"Twenty-one? You just look it, you blooming boy. Now tell me my age, +Adonis!--Twenty--_what_?" + +Richard had given the lady twenty-five years. + +She laughed violently. "You don't pay compliments, Dick. Best to be +honest; guess again. You don't like to? Not twenty-five, or twenty-four, +or twenty-three, or--see how he begins to start!--twenty-two. Just +twenty-one, my dear. I think, my birthday's somewhere in next month. +Why, look at me, close--closer. Have I a wrinkle?" + +"And when, in heaven's name!" ... he stopped short. + +"I understand you. When did I commence for to live? At the ripe age +of sixteen I saw a nobleman in despair because of my beauty. He +vowed he'd die. I didn't want him to do that. So to save the poor +man for his family, I ran away with him, and I dare say they didn't +appreciate the sacrifice, and he soon forgot to, if he ever did. +It's the way of the world!" + +Richard seized some dead champagne, emptied the bottle into a +tumbler, and drank it off. + +John footman entered to clear the table, and they were left without +further interruption. + +"Bella! Bella!" Richard uttered in a deep sad voice, as he walked +the room. + +She leaned on her arm, her hair crushed against a reddened cheek, +her eyes half-shut and dreamy. + +"Bella!" he dropped beside her. "You are unhappy." + +She blinked and yawned, as one who is awakened suddenly. "I think +you spoke," said she. + +"You are unhappy, Bella. You can't conceal it. Your laugh sounds +like madness. You must be unhappy. So young, too! Only twenty-one!" + +"What does it matter? Who cares for me?" + +The mighty pity falling from his eyes took in her whole shape. She +did not mistake it for tenderness, as another would have done. + +"Who cares for you, Bella? I do. What makes my misery now, but to +see you there, and know of no way of helping you? Father of mercy! +it seems too much to have to stand by powerless while such ruin is +going on!" + +Her hand was shaken in his by the passion of torment with which his +frame quaked. + +Involuntarily a tear started between her eyelids. She glanced up at +him quickly, then looked down, drew her hand from his, and smoothed +it, eying it. + +"Bella! you have a father alive!" + +"A linen draper, dear. He wears a white neck-cloth." + +This article of apparel instantaneously changed the tone of the +conversation, for he, rising abruptly, nearly squashed the lady's +lap-dog, whose squeaks and howls were piteous, and demanded the +most fervent caresses of its mistress. It was: "Oh, my poor pet +Mumpsy, and he didn't like a nasty great big ugly heavy foot on +his poor soft silky--mum--mum--back, he didn't, and he soodn't +that he--mum--mum--soodn't; and he cried out and knew the place +to come to, and was oh so sorry for what had happened to +him--mum--mum--mum--and now he was going to be made happy, his +mistress make him happy--mum--mum--mum--moo-o-o-o." + +"Yes!" said Richard, savagely, from the other end of the room, "you +care for the happiness of your dog." + +"A course se does," Mumpsy was simperingly assured in the thick of +his silky flanks. + +Richard looked for his hat. Mumpsy was deposited on the sofa in a +twinkling. + +"Now," said the lady, "you must come and beg Mumpsy's pardon, +whether you meant to do it or no, because little doggies can't tell +that--how should they? And there's poor Mumpsy thinking you're a +great terrible rival that tries to squash him all flat to nothing, +on purpose, pretending you didn't see; and he's trembling, poor dear +wee pet! And I may love my dog, sir, if I like; and I do; and I +won't have him ill-treated, for he's never been jealous of you, and +he is a darling, ten times truer than men, and I love him fifty +times better. So come to him with me." + +First a smile changed Richard's face; then laughing a melancholy +laugh, he surrendered to her humour, and went through the form of +begging Mumpsy's pardon. + +"The dear dog! I do believe he saw we were getting dull," said she. + +"And immolated himself intentionally? Noble animal!" + +"Well, we'll act as if we thought so. Let us be gay, Richard, and +not part like ancient fogies. Where's your fun? You can rattle; why +don't you? You haven't seen me in one of my characters--not Sir +Julius: wait a couple of minutes." She ran out. + +A white visage reappeared behind a spring of flame. Her black hair +was scattered over her shoulders and fell half across her brows. She +moved slowly, and came up to him, fastening weird eyes on him, +pointing a finger at the region of witches. Sepulchral cadences +accompanied the representation. He did not listen, for he was +thinking what a deadly charming and exquisitely horrid witch she +was. Something in the way her underlids worked seemed to remind him +of a forgotten picture; but a veil hung on the picture. There could +be no analogy, for this was beautiful and devilish, and that, if he +remembered rightly, had the beauty of seraphs. + +His reflections and her performance were stayed by a shriek. The +spirits of wine had run over the plate she held to the floor. She +had the coolness to put the plate down on the table, while he +stamped out the flame on the carpet. Again she shrieked: she thought +she was on fire. He fell on his knees and clasped her skirts all +round, drawing his arms down them several times. + +Still kneeling, he looked up, and asked, "Do you feel safe now?" + +She bent her face glaring down till the ends of her hair touched his +cheek. + +Said she, "Do you?" + +Was she a witch verily? There was sorcery in her breath; sorcery in +her hair: the ends of it stung him like little snakes. + +"How do I do it, Dick?" she flung back, laughing. + +"Like you do everything, Bella," he said, and took a breath. + +"There! I won't be a witch; I won't be a witch: they may burn me to +a cinder, but I won't be a witch!" + +She sang, throwing her hair about, and stamping her feet. + +"I suppose I look a figure. I must go and tidy myself." + +"No, don't change. I like to see you so." He gazed at her with a +mixture of wonder and admiration. "I can't think you the same +person--not even when you laugh." + +"Richard," her tone was serious, "you were going to speak to me of +my parents." + +"How wild and awful you looked, Bella!" + +"My father, Richard, was a very respectable man." + +"Bella, you'll haunt me like a ghost." + +"My mother died in my infancy, Richard." + +"Don't put up your hair, Bella." + +"I was an only child!" + +Her head shook sorrowfully at the glistening fire-irons. He followed +the abstracted intentness of her look, and came upon her words. + +"Ah, yes! speak of your father, Bella. Speak of him." + +"Shall I haunt you, and come to your bedside, and cry, ''Tis time'?" + +"Dear Bella! if you will tell me where he lives, I will go to him. +He shall receive you. He shall not refuse--he shall forgive you." + +"If I haunt you, you can't forget me, Richard." + +"Let me go to your father, Bella--let me go to him to-morrow. I'll +give you my time. It's all I can give. O Bella! let me save you." + +"So you like me best dishevelled, do you, you naughty boy! Ha! ha!" +and away she burst from him, and up flew her hair, as she danced +across the room, and fell at full length on the sofa. + +He felt giddy: bewitched. + +"We'll talk of everyday things, Dick," she called to him from the +sofa. "It's our last evening. Our last? Heigho! It makes me +sentimental. How's that Mr. Ripson, Pipson, Nipson?--it's not +complimentary, but I can't remember names of that sort. Why do you +have friends of that sort? He's not a gentleman. Better is he? Well, +he's rather _too_ insignificant for me. Why do you sit off there? +Come to me instantly. There--I'll sit up, and be proper, and you'll +have plenty of room. Talk, Dick!" + +He was reflecting on the fact that her eyes were brown. They had a +haughty sparkle when she pleased, and when she pleased a soft +languor circled them. Excitement had dyed her cheeks deep red. He +was a youth, and she an enchantress. He a hero; she a female +will-o'-the-wisp. + +The eyes were languid now, set in rosy colour. + +"You will not leave me yet, Richard? not yet?" + +He had no thought of departing. + +"It's our last night--I suppose it's our last hour together in this +world--and I don't want to meet you in the next, for poor Dick will +have to come to such a very, very disagreeable place to make the +visit." + +He grasped her hand at this. + +"Yes, he will! too true! can't be helped: they say I'm handsome." + +"You're lovely, Bella." + +She drank in his homage. + +"Well, we'll admit it. His Highness below likes lovely women, I hear +say. A gentleman of taste! You don't know all my accomplishments +yet, Richard." + +"I shan't be astonished at anything new, Bella." + +"Then hear, and wonder." Her voice trolled out some lively roulades. +"Don't you think he'll make me his prima donna below? It's nonsense +to tell me there's no singing there. And the atmosphere will be +favourable to the voice. No _damp_, you know. You saw the piano--why +didn't you ask me to sing before? I can sing Italian. I had a +master--who made love to me. I forgave him because of the +music-stool--men can't help it on a music-stool, poor dears!" + +She went to the piano, struck the notes, and sang-- + + "'My heart, my heart--I think 'twill break.' + +"Because I'm such a rake. I don't know any other reason. No; I hate +sentimental songs. Won't sing that. Ta-tiddy-tiddy-iddy--a ... e! +How ridiculous those women were, coming home from Richmond! + + 'Once the sweet romance of story + Clad thy moving form with grace; + Once the world and all its glory + Was but framework to thy face. + Ah, too fair!--what I remember, + Might my soul recall--but no! + To the winds this wretched ember + Of a fire that falls so low!' + +"Hum! don't much like that. Tum-te-tum-tum--accanto al +fuoco--heigho! I don't want to show off, Dick--or to break down--so +I won't try that. + + 'Oh! but for thee, oh! but for thee, + I might have been a happy wife, + And nursed a baby on my knee, + And never blushed to give it life.' + +"I used to sing that when I was a girl, sweet Richard, and didn't +know at all, at all, what it meant. Mustn't sing that sort of song +in company. We're oh! so proper--even we! + + 'If I had a husband, what think you I'd do? + I'd make it my business to keep him a lover; + For when a young gentleman ceases to woo, + Some other amusement he'll quickly discover.' + +"For such are young gentlemen made of--made of: such are young +gentlemen made of!" + +After this trifling she sang a Spanish ballad sweetly. He was in the +mood when imagination intensely vivifies everything. Mere suggestion +of music sufficed. The lady in the ballad had been wronged. Lo! it +was the lady before him; and soft horns blew; he smelt the languid +night-flowers; he saw the stars crowd large and close above the arid +plain: this lady leaning at her window desolate, pouring out her +abandoned heart. + +Heroes know little what they owe to champagne. + +The lady wandered to Venice. Thither he followed her at a leap. In +Venice she was not happy. He was prepared for the misery of any +woman anywhere. But, oh! to be with her! To glide with phantom-motion +through throbbing street; past houses muffled in shadow and gloomy +legends; under storied bridges; past palaces charged with full life in +dead quietness; past grand old towers, colossal squares, gleaming +quays, and out, and on with her, on into the silver infinity shaking +over seas! + +Was it the champagne? the music? or the poetry? Something of the two +former, perhaps: but most the enchantress playing upon him. How many +instruments cannot clever women play upon at the same moment! And +this enchantress was not too clever, or he might have felt her +touch. She was no longer absolutely bent on winning him, or he might +have seen a manoeuvre. She liked him--liked none better. She +wished him well. Her pique was satisfied. Still he was handsome, and +he was going. What she liked him for, she rather--very slightly--wished +to do away with, or see if it could be done away with: just as one +wishes to catch a pretty butterfly, without hurting its patterned +wings. No harm intended to the innocent insect, only one wants to +inspect it thoroughly, and enjoy the marvel of it, in one's tender +possession, and have the felicity of thinking one could crush it, +if one would. + +He knew her what she was, this lady. In Seville, or in Venice, the +spot was on her. Sailing the pathways of the moon it was not +celestial light that illumined her beauty. Her sin was there: but in +dreaming to save, he was soft to her sin--drowned it in deep +mournfulness. + +Silence, and the rustle of her dress, awoke him from his musing. She +swam wave-like to the sofa. She was at his feet. + +"I have been light and careless to-night, Richard. Of course I meant +it. I _must_ be happy with my best friend going to leave me." + +Those witch underlids were working brightly. + +"You will not forget me? and I shall try ... try...." + +Her lips twitched. She thought him such a very handsome fellow. + +"If I change--if I can change.... Oh! if you could know what a net +I'm in, Richard!" + +Now at those words, as he looked down on her haggard loveliness, not +divine sorrow but a devouring jealousy sprang like fire to his +breast, and set him rocking with horrid pain. He bent closer to her +pale beseeching face. Her eyes still drew him down. + +"Bella! No! no! promise me! swear it!" + +"Lost, Richard! lost for ever! give me up!" + +He cried: "I never will!" and strained her in his arms, and kissed +her passionately on the lips. + +She was not acting now as she sidled and slunk her half-averted head +with a kind of maiden shame under his arm, sighing heavily, weeping, +clinging to him. It was wicked truth. + +Not a word of love between them! + +Was ever hero in this fashion won? + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE LITTLE BIRD AND THE FALCON; A BERRY TO THE RESCUE! + + +At a season when the pleasant South-western Island has few +attractions to other than invalids and hermits enamoured of wind and +rain, the potent nobleman, Lord Mountfalcon, still lingered there to +the disgust of his friends and special parasite. "Mount's in for it +again," they said among themselves. "Hang the women!" was a natural +sequence. For, don't you see, what a shame it was of the women to be +always kindling such a very inflammable subject! All understood that +Cupid had twanged his bow, and transfixed a peer of Britain for the +fiftieth time: but none would perceive, though he vouched for it +with his most eloquent oaths, that this was a totally different case +from the antecedent ones. So it had been sworn to them too +frequently before. He was as a man with mighty tidings, and no +language: intensely communicative, but inarticulate. Good round +oaths had formerly compassed and expounded his noble emotions. They +were now quite beyond the comprehension of blasphemy, even when +emphasized, and by this the poor lord divinely felt the case was +different. There is something impressive in a great human hulk +writhing under the unutterable torments of a mastery he cannot +contend with, or account for, or explain by means of intelligible +words. At first he took refuge in the depths of his contempt for +women. Cupid gave him line. When he had come to vent his worst of +them, the fair face now stamped on his brain beamed the more +triumphantly: so the harpooned whale rose to the surface, and after +a few convulsions, surrendered his huge length. My lord was in love +with Richard's young wife. He gave proofs of it by burying himself +beside her. To her, could she have seen it, he gave further proofs +of a real devotion, in affecting, and in her presence feeling, +nothing beyond a lively interest in her well-being. This wonder, +that when near her he should be cool and composed, and when away +from her wrapped in a tempest of desires, was matter for what powers +of cogitation the heavy nobleman possessed. + +The Hon. Peter, tired of his journeys to and fro, urged him to press +the business. Lord Mountfalcon was wiser, or more scrupulous, than +his parasite. Almost every evening he saw Lucy. The inexperienced +little wife apprehended no harm in his visits. Moreover, Richard had +commended her to the care of Lord Mountfalcon, and Lady Judith. Lady +Judith had left the Island for London: Lord Mountfalcon remained. +There could be no harm. If she had ever thought so, she no longer +did. Secretly, perhaps, she was flattered. Lord Mountfalcon was as +well educated as it is the fortune of the run of titled elder sons +to be: he could talk and instruct: he was a lord: and he let her +understand that he was wicked, very wicked, and that she improved +him. The heroine, in common with the hero, has her ambition to be of +use in the world--to do some good; and the task of reclaiming a bad +man is extremely seductive to good women. Dear to their tender +bosoms as old china is a bad man they are mending! Lord Mountfalcon +had none of the arts of a libertine: his gold, his title, and his +person had hitherto preserved him from having long to sigh in vain, +or sigh at all, possibly: the Hon. Peter did his villainies for him. +No alarm was given to Lucy's pure instinct, as might have been the +case had my lord been over-adept. It was nice in her martyrdom to +have a true friend to support her, and really to be able to do +something for that friend. Too simple-minded to think much of his +lordship's position, she was yet a woman. "He, a great nobleman, +does not scorn to acknowledge me, and think something of me," may +have been one of the half-thoughts passing through her now and then, +as she reflected in self-defence on the proud family she had married +into. + +January was watering and freezing old earth by turns, when the Hon. +Peter travelled down to the sun of his purse with great news. He had +no sooner broached his lordship's immediate weakness, than +Mountfalcon began to plunge like a heavy dragoon in difficulties. He +swore by this and that he had come across an angel for his sins, and +would do her no hurt. The next moment he swore she must be his, +though she cursed like a cat. His lordship's illustrations were not +choice. "I haven't advanced an inch," he groaned. "Brayder! upon my +soul, that little woman could do anything with me. By heaven! I'd +marry her to-morrow. Here I am, seeing her every day in the week out +or in, and what do you think she gets me to talk about?--history! +Isn't it enough to make a fellow mad? and there am I lecturing like +a prig, and by heaven! while I'm at it I feel a pleasure in it; and +when I leave the house I should feel an immense gratification in +shooting somebody. What do they say in town?" + +"Not much," said Brayder, significantly. + +"When's that fellow--her husband--coming down?" + +"I rather hope we've settled him for life, Mount." + +Nobleman and parasite exchanged looks. + +"How d'ye mean?" + +Brayder hummed an air, and broke it to say, "He's in for Don Juan at +a gallop, that's all." + +"The deuce! Has Bella got him?" Mountfalcon asked with eagerness. + +Brayder handed my lord a letter. It was dated from the Sussex coast, +signed "Richard," and was worded thus: + +"My beautiful Devil!-- + +"Since we're both devils together, and have found each other out, +come to me at once, or I shall be going somewhere in a hurry. Come, +my bright hell-star! I ran away from you, and now I ask you to come +to me! You have taught me how devils love, and I can't do without +you. Come an hour after you receive this." + +Mountfalcon turned over the letter to see if there was any more. +"Complimentary love-epistle!" he remarked, and rising from his chair +and striding about, muttered, "The dog! how infamously he treats his +wife!" + +"Very bad," said Brayder. + +"How did you get hold of this?" + +"Strolled into Bella's dressing-room, waiting for her--turned over +her pincushion haphazard. You know her trick." + +"By Jove! I think that girl does it on purpose. Thank heaven, I +haven't written her any letters for an age. Is she going to him!" + +"Not she! But it's odd, Mount!--did you ever know her refuse money +before? She tore up the cheque in style, and presented me the +fragments with two or three of the delicacies of language she learnt +at your Academy. I rather like to hear a woman swear. It embellishes +her!" + +Mountfalcon took counsel of his parasite as to the end the letter +could be made to serve. Both conscientiously agreed that Richard's +behaviour to his wife was infamous, and that he at least deserved no +mercy. "But," said his lordship, "it won't do to show the letter. At +first she'll be swearing it's false, and then she'll stick to him +closer. I know the sluts." + +"The rule of contrary," said Brayder, carelessly. "She must see the +trahison with her eyes. They believe their eyes. There's your +chance, Mount. You step in: you give her revenge and consolation--two +birds at one shot. That's what they like." + +"You're an ass, Brayder," the nobleman exclaimed. "You're an +infernal blackguard. You talk of this little woman as if she and +other women were all of a piece. I don't see anything I gain by this +confounded letter. Her husband's a brute--that's clear." + +"Will you leave it to me, Mount?" + +"Be damned before I do!" muttered my lord. + +"Thank you. Now see how this will end. You're too soft, Mount. +You'll be made a fool of." + +"I tell you, Brayder, there's nothing to be done. If I carry her +off--I've been on the point of doing it every day--what'll come of +that? She'll look--I can't stand her eyes--I shall be a fool--worse +off with her than I am now." + +Mountfalcon yawned despondently. "And what do you think?" he pursued. +"Isn't it enough to make a fellow gnash his teeth? She's" ... he +mentioned something in an underbreath, and turned red as he said it. + +"Hm!" Brayder put up his mouth and rapped the handle of his cane on +his chin. "That's disagreeable, Mount. You don't exactly want to act +in that character. You haven't got a diploma. Bother!" + +"Do you think I love her a bit less?" broke out my lord in a frenzy. +"By heaven! I'd read to her by her bedside, and talk that infernal +history to her, if it pleased her, all day and all night." + +"You're evidently graduating for a midwife, Mount." + +The nobleman appeared silently to accept the imputation. + +"What do they say in town?" he asked again. + +Brayder said the sole question was, whether it was maid, wife, or +widow. + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon resumed, after--to judge +by the cast of his face--reflecting deeply. "I'll go to her this +evening. She shall know what infernal torment she makes me suffer." + +"Do you mean to say she don't know it?" + +"Hasn't an idea--thinks me a friend. And so, by heaven! I'll be to +her." + +"A--hm!" went the Honourable Peter. "This way to the sign of the +Green Man, ladies!" + +"Do you want to be pitched out of the window, Brayder?" + +"Once was enough, Mount. The Salvage Man is strong. I may have +forgotten the trick of alighting on my feet. There--there! I'll be +sworn she's excessively innocent, and thinks you a disinterested +friend." + +"I'll go to her this evening," Mountfalcon repeated. "She shall know +what damned misery it is to see her in such a position. I can't hold +out any longer. Deceit's horrible to such a girl as that. I'd rather +have her cursing me than speaking and looking as she does. Dear +little girl!--she's only a child. You haven't an idea how sensible +that little woman is." + +"Have you?" inquired the cunning one. + +"My belief is, Brayder, that there are angels among women," said +Mountfalcon, evading his parasite's eye as he spoke. + +To the world, Lord Mountfalcon was the thoroughly wicked man; his +parasite simply ingeniously dissipated. Full many a man of God had +thought it the easier task to reclaim the Hon. Peter. + +Lucy received her noble friend by firelight that evening, and sat +much in the shade. She offered to have the candles brought in. He +begged her to allow the room to remain as it was. "I have something +to say to you," he observed with a certain solemnity. + +"Yes--to me?" said Lucy, quickly. + +Lord Mountfalcon knew he had a great deal to say, but how to say it, +and what it exactly was, he did not know. + +"You conceal it admirably," he began, "but you must be very lonely +here--I fear, unhappy." + +"I should have been lonely, but for your kindness, my lord," said +Lucy. "I am not unhappy." Her face was in shade and could not belie +her. + +"Is there any help that one who would really be your friend might +give you, Mrs. Feverel?" + +"None indeed that I know of," Lucy replied. "Who can help us to pay +for our sins?" + +"At least you may permit me to endeavour to pay my debts, since you +have helped me to wash out some of _my_ sins." + +"Ah, my lord!" said Lucy, not displeased. It is sweet for a woman to +believe she has drawn the serpent's teeth. + +"I tell you the truth," Lord Mountfalcon went on. "What object could +I have in deceiving you? I know you quite above flattery--so +different from other women!" + +"Oh, pray, do not say that," interposed Lucy. + +"According to my experience, then." + +"But you say you have met such--such very bad women." + +"I have. And now that I meet a good one, it is my misfortune." + +"Your misfortune, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes, and I might say more." + +His lordship held impressively mute. + +"How strange men are!" thought Lucy. "He has some unhappy secret." + +Tom Bakewell, who had a habit of coming into the room on various +pretences during the nobleman's visits, put a stop to the +revelation, if his lordship intended to make any. + +When they were alone again, Lucy said, smiling: "Do you know, I am +always ashamed to ask you to begin to read." + +Mountfalcon stared. "To read?--oh! ha! yes!" he remembered his +evening duties. "Very happy, I'm sure. Let me see. Where were we?" + +"The life of the Emperor Julian. But indeed I feel quite ashamed to +ask you to read, my lord. It's new to me; like a new world--hearing +about Emperors, and armies, and things that really have been on the +earth we walk upon. It fills my mind. But it must have ceased to +interest you, and I was thinking that I would not tease you any +more." + +"Your pleasure is mine, Mrs. Feverel. 'Pon my honour, I'd read till +I was hoarse, to hear your remarks." + +"Are you laughing at me?" + +"Do I look so?" + +Lord Mountfalcon had fine full eyes, and by merely dropping the lids +he could appear to endow them with mental expression. + +"No, you are not," said Lucy. "I must thank you for your +forbearance." + +The nobleman went on his honour loudly. + +Now it was an object of Lucy's to have him reading; for his sake, +for her sake, and for somebody else's sake; which somebody else was +probably considered first in the matter. When he was reading to her, +he seemed to be legitimizing his presence there; and though she had +no doubts or suspicions whatever, she was easier in her heart while +she had him employed in that office. So she rose to fetch the book, +laid it open on the table at his lordship's elbow, and quietly +waited to ring for candles when he should be willing to commence. + +That evening Lord Mountfalcon could not get himself up to the farce, +and he felt a pity for the strangely innocent unprotected child with +anguish hanging over her, that withheld the words he wanted to +speak, or insinuate. He sat silent and did nothing. + +"What I do not like him for," said Lucy, meditatively, "is his +changing his religion. He would have been such a hero, but for that. +I could have loved him." + +"Who is it you could have loved, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon +asked. + +"The Emperor Julian." + +"Oh! the Emperor Julian! Well, he was an apostate: but then, you +know, he meant what he was about. He didn't even do it for a woman." + +"For a woman!" cried Lucy. "What man would for a woman?" + +"I would." + +"You, Lord Mountfalcon?" + +"Yes. I'd turn Catholic to-morrow." + +"You make me very unhappy if you say that, my lord." + +"Then I'll unsay it." + +Lucy slightly shuddered. She put her hand upon the bell to ring for +lights. + +"Do you reject a convert, Mrs. Feverel?" said the nobleman. + +"Oh yes! yes! I do. One who does not give his conscience I would not +have." + +"If he gives his heart and body, can he give more?" + +Lucy's hand pressed the bell. She did not like the doubtful light +with one who was so unscrupulous. Lord Mountfalcon had never spoken +in this way before. He spoke better, too. She missed the +aristocratic twang in his voice, and the hesitation for words, and +the fluid lordliness with which he rolled over difficulties in +speech. + +Simultaneously with the sounding of the bell the door opened, and +presented Tom Bakewell. There was a double knock at the same instant +at the street door. Lucy delayed to give orders. + +"Can it be a letter, Tom?--so late?" she said, changing colour. +"Pray run and see." + +"That an't a powst," Tom remarked, as he obeyed his mistress. + +"Are you very anxious for a letter, Mrs. Feverel?" Lord Mountfalcon +inquired. + +"Oh, no--yes, I am, very!" said Lucy. Her quick ear caught the tones +of a voice she remembered. "That dear old thing has come to see me," +she cried, starting up. + +Tom ushered a bunch of black satin into the room. + +"Mrs. Berry!" said Lucy, running up to her and kissing her. + +"Me, my darlin'!" Mrs. Berry, breathless and rosy with her journey, +returned the salute. "Me truly it is, in fault of a better, for I +ain't one to stand by and give the devil his licence--roamin'! and +the salt sure enough have spilte my bride-gown at the beginnin', +which ain't the best sign. Bless ye!--Oh, here he is." She beheld a +male figure in a chair by the half light, and swung round to address +him. "You bad man!" she held aloft one of her fat fingers, "I've +come on ye like a bolt, I have, and goin' to make ye do your duty, +naughty boy! But you're my darlin' babe," she melted, as was her +custom, "and I'll never meet you and not give to ye the kiss of a +mother." + +Before Lord Mountfalcon could find time to expostulate the soft +woman had him by the neck, and was down among his luxurious +whiskers. + +"Ha!" She gave a smothered shriek, and fell back. "What hair's +that?" + +Tom Bakewell just then illumined the transaction. + +"Oh, my gracious!" Mrs. Berry breathed with horror, "I been and kiss +a strange man!" + +Lucy, half-laughing, but in dreadful concern, begged the noble lord +to excuse the woful mistake. + +"Extremely flattered, highly favoured, I'm sure," said his lordship, +re-arranging his disconcerted moustache; "may I beg the pleasure of +an introduction?" + +"My husband's dear old nurse--Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, taking her +hand to lend her countenance. "Lord Mountfalcon, Mrs. Berry." + +Mrs. Berry sought grace while she performed a series of apologetic +bobs, and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. + +Lucy put her in a chair: Lord Mountfalcon asked for an account of +her passage over to the Island; receiving distressingly full +particulars, by which it was revealed that the softness of her heart +was only equalled by the weakness of her stomach. The recital calmed +Mrs. Berry down. + +"Well, and where's my--where's Mr. Richard? yer husband, my dear?" +Mrs. Berry turned from her tale to question. + +"Did you expect to see him here?" said Lucy, in a broken voice. + +"And where else, my love? since he haven't been seen in London a +whole fortnight." + +Lucy did not speak. + +"We will dismiss the Emperor Julian till to-morrow, I think," said +Lord Mountfalcon, rising and bowing. + +Lucy gave him her hand with mute thanks. He touched it distantly, +embraced Mrs. Berry in a farewell bow, and was shown out of the +house by Tom Bakewell. + +The moment he was gone, Mrs. Berry threw up her arms. "Did ye ever +know sich a horrid thing to go and happen to a virtuous woman!" she +exclaimed. "I could cry at it, I could! To be goin' and kissin' a +strange hairy man! Oh, dear me! what's comin' next, I wonder? +Whiskers! thinks I--for I know the touch o' whiskers--'t ain't like +other hair--what! have he growed a crop that sudden, I says to +myself; and it flashed on me I been and made a awful mistake! and +the lights come in, and I see that great hairy man--beggin' his +pardon--nobleman, and if I could 'a dropped through the floor out o' +sight o' men, drat 'em! they're al'ays in the way, that they +are!"---- + +"Mrs. Berry," Lucy checked her, "did you expect to find him here?" + +"Askin' that solemn?" retorted Berry. "What him? your husband? Of +course I did! and you got him--somewheres hid." + +"I have not heard from my husband for fifteen days," said Lucy, and +her tears rolled heavily off her cheeks. + +'Not heer from him!--fifteen days!" Berry echoed. + +"O Mrs. Berry! dear kind Mrs. Berry! have you no news? nothing to +tell me! I've borne it so long. They're cruel to me, Mrs. Berry. Oh, +do you know if I have offended him--my husband? While he wrote I did +not complain. I could live on his letters for years. But not to hear +from him! To think I have ruined him, and that he repents! Do they +want to take him from me? Do they want me dead? O Mrs. Berry! I've +had no one to speak out my heart to all this time, and I cannot, +cannot help crying, Mrs. Berry!" + +Mrs. Berry was inclined to be miserable at what she heard from +Lucy's lips, and she was herself full of dire apprehension; but it +was never this excellent creature's system to be miserable in +company. The sight of a sorrow that was not positive, and could not +refer to proof, set her resolutely the other way. + +"Fiddle-faddle," she said. "I'd like to see him repent! He won't +find anywheres a beauty like his own dear little wife, and he know +it. Now, look you here, my dear--you blessed weepin' pet--the man +that could see ye with that hair of yours there in ruins, and he +backed by the law, and not rush into your arms and hold ye squeezed +for life, he ain't got much man in him, I say; and no one can say +that of my babe! I was sayin', look here, to comfort ye--oh, why, +to be sure he've got some surprise for ye. And so've I, my lamb! +Hark, now! His father've come to town, like a good reasonable man at +last, to u-nite, ye both, and bring your bodies together, as your +hearts is, for ever-lastin'. Now ain't that news?" + +"Oh!" cried Lucy, "that takes my last hope away. I thought he had +gone to his father." She burst into fresh tears. + +Mrs. Berry paused, disturbed. + +"Belike he's travellin' after him," she suggested. + +"Fifteen days, Mrs. Berry!" + +"Ah, fifteen weeks, my dear, after sich a man as that. He's a +regular meteor, is Sir Austin Feverel, Raynham Abbey. Well, so hark +you here. I says to myself, that knows him--for I did think my babe +_was_ in his natural nest--I says, the bar'net'll never write for +you both to come up and beg forgiveness, so down I'll go and fetch +you up. For there was your mistake, my dear, ever to leave your +husband to go away from ye one hour in a young marriage. It's +dangerous, it's mad, it's wrong, and it's only to be righted by your +obeyin' of me, as I commands it: for I has my fits, though I _am_ a +soft 'un. Obey me, and ye'll be happy to-morrow--or the next to it." + +Lucy was willing to see comfort. She was weary of her self-inflicted +martyrdom, and glad to give herself up to somebody else's guidance +utterly. + +"But why does he not write to me, Mrs. Berry?" + +"'Cause, 'cause--who can tell the why of men, my dear? But that he +love ye faithful, I'll swear. Haven't he groaned in my arms that he +couldn't come to ye?--weak wretch! Hasn't he swore how he loved ye +to me, poor young man! But this is your fault, my sweet. Yes, it be. +You should 'a followed my 'dvice at the fust--'stead o' going into +your 'eroics about this and t'other." Here Mrs. Berry poured forth +fresh sentences on matrimony, pointed especially at young couples. +"I should 'a been a fool if I hadn't suffered myself," she +confessed, "so I'll thank my Berry if I makes you wise in season." + +Lucy smoothed her ruddy plump cheeks, and gazed up affectionately +into the soft woman's kind brown eyes. Endearing phrases passed +from mouth to mouth. And as she gazed Lucy blushed, as one who has +something very secret to tell, very sweet, very strange, but cannot +quite bring herself to speak it. + +"Well! there's three men in my life I kissed," said Mrs. Berry, too +much absorbed in her extraordinary adventure to notice the young +wife's struggling bosom, "three men, and one nobleman! He've got +more whisker than my Berry. I wonder what the man thought. Ten to +one he'll think, now, I was glad o' my chance--they're that vain, +whether they's lords or commons. How was I to know? I nat'ral thinks +none but her husband'd sit in that chair. Ha! and in the dark? and +alone with ye?" Mrs. Berry hardened her eyes, "and your husband +away? What do this mean? Tell to me, child, what it mean his bein' +here alone without ere a candle?" + +"Lord Mountfalcon is the only friend I have here," said Lucy. "He is +very kind. He comes almost every evening." + +"Lord Muntfalcon--that his name!" Mrs. Berry exclaimed. "I been that +flurried by the man, I didn't mind it at first. He comes every +evenin', and your husband out o' sight! My goodness me! it's gettin' +worse and worse. And what do he come for, now, ma'am? Now tell me +candid what ye do together here in the dark of an evenin'." + +Mrs. Berry glanced severely. + +"O Mrs. Berry! please not to speak in that way--I don't like it," +said Lucy, pouting. + +"What do he come for, I ask?" + +"Because he is kind, Mrs. Berry. He sees me very lonely, and wishes +to amuse me. And he tells me of things I know nothing about and"---- + +"And wants to be a-teachin' some of his things, mayhap," Mrs. Berry +interrupted with a ruffled breast. + +"You are a very ungenerous, suspicious, naughty old woman," said +Lucy, chiding her. + +"And you're a silly, unsuspectin' little bird," Mrs. Berry retorted, +as she returned her taps on the cheek. "You haven't told me what ye +do together, and what's his excuse for comin'." + +"Well, then, Mrs. Berry, almost every evening that he comes we read +History, and he explains the battles, and talks to me about the +great men. And _he_ says I'm not silly, Mrs. Berry." + +"That's one bit o' lime on your wings, my bird. History, indeed! +History to a young married lovely woman alone in the dark! a pretty +History! Why, I know that man's name, my dear. He's a notorious +living rake, that Lord Muntfalcon. No woman's safe with him." + +"Ah, but he hasn't deceived me, Mrs. Berry. He has not pretended he +was good." + +"More's his art," quoth the experienced dame. "So you read History +together in the dark, my dear!" + +"I was unwell to-night, Mrs. Berry. I wanted him not to see my face. +Look! there's the book open ready for him when the candles come in. +And now, you dear kind darling old thing, let me kiss you for coming +to me. I do love you. Talk of other things." + +"So we will," said Mrs. Berry softening to Lucy's caresses. "So let +us. A nobleman, indeed! alone with a young wife in the dark, and she +sich a beauty! I say this shall be put a stop to now and henceforth, +on the spot it shall! He won't meneuvele Bessy Berry with his arts. +There! I drop him. I'm dyin' for a cup o' tea, my dear." + +Lucy got up to ring the bell, and as Mrs. Berry, incapable of quite +dropping him, was continuing to say: "Let him go and boast I kiss +him; he ain't nothin' to be 'shamed of in a chaste woman's +kiss--unawares--which men don't get too often in their lives, I can +assure 'em;"--her eye surveyed Lucy's figure. + +Lo, when Lucy returned to her, Mrs. Berry surrounded her with her +arms, and drew her into feminine depths. "Oh, you blessed!" she +cried in most meaning tone, "you good, lovin', proper little wife, +you!" + +"What is it, Mrs. Berry!" lisps Lucy, opening the most innocent blue +eyes. + +"As if _I_ couldn't see, you pet! It was my flurry blinded me, or +I'd 'a marked ye the fust shock. Thinkin' to deceive me!" + +Mrs. Berry's eyes spoke generations. Lucy's wavered; she coloured +all over, and hid her face on the bounteous breast that mounted to +her. + +"You're a sweet one," murmured the soft woman, patting her back, and +rocking her. "You're a rose, you are! and a bud on your stalk. +Haven't told a word to your husband, my dear?" she asked quickly. + +Lucy shook her head, looking sly and shy. + +"That's right. We'll give him a surprise; let it come all at once on +him, and thinks he--losin' breath--'I'm a father!' Nor a hint even +you haven't give him?" + +Lucy kissed her, to indicate it was quite a secret. + +"Oh! you _are_ a sweet one," said Bessy Berry, and rocked her more +closely and lovingly. + +Then these two had a whispered conversation, from which let all of +male persuasion retire a space nothing under one mile. + +Returning, after a due interval, we see Mrs. Berry counting on her +fingers' ends. Concluding the sum, she cries prophetically: "Now +this right everything--a baby in the balance! Now I say this +angel-infant come from on high. It's God's messenger, my love! and +it's not wrong to say so. He thinks you worthy, or you wouldn't 'a +had one--not for all the tryin' in the world, you wouldn't, and some +tries hard enough, poor creatures! How let us rejice and make merry! +I'm for cryin' and laughin', one and the same. This is the blessed +seal of matrimony, which Berry never stamp on me. It's be hoped it's +a boy. Make that man a grandfather, and his grandchild a son, and +you got him safe. Oh! this is what I call happiness, and I'll have +my tea a little stronger in consequence. I declare I could get tipsy +to know this joyful news." + +So Mrs. Berry carolled. She had her tea a little stronger. She ate +and she drank; she rejoiced and made merry. The bliss of the chaste +was hers. + +Says Lucy demurely: "Now you know why I read History, and that sort +of books." + +"Do I?" replies Berry. "Belike I do. Since what you done's so good, +my darlin', I'm agreeable to anything. A fig for all the lords! They +can't come anigh a baby. You may read Voyages and Travels, my dear, +and Romances, and Tales of Love and War. You cut the riddle in your +own dear way, and that's all I cares for." + +"No, but you don't understand," persists Lucy. "I only read sensible +books, and talk of serious things, because I'm sure ... because I +have heard say ... dear Mrs. Berry! don't you understand now?" + +Mrs. Berry smacked her knees. "Only to think of her bein' that +thoughtful! and she a Catholic, too! Never tell me that people of +one religion ain't as good as another, after that. Why, you want to +make him a historian, to be sure! And that rake of a lord who've +been comin' here playin' at wolf, you been and made him--unbeknown +to himself--sort o' tutor to the unborn blessed! Ha! ha! say that +little women ain't got art ekal to the cunningest of 'em. Oh! I +understand. Why, to be sure, didn't I know a lady, a widow of a +clergyman: he was a postermost child, and afore his birth that woman +read nothin' but Blair's 'Grave' over and over again, from the end +to the beginnin';--that's a serious book!--very hard readin'!--and +at four years of age that child that come of it reelly was the +piusest infant!--he was like a little curate. His eyes was up; he +talked so solemn." Mrs. Berry imitated the little curate's +appearance and manner of speaking. "So she got her wish, for one!" + +But at this lady Lucy laughed. + +They chattered on happily till bedtime. Lucy arranged for Mrs. Berry +to sleep with her. "If it's not dreadful to ye, my sweet, sleepin' +beside a woman," said Mrs. Berry. "I know it were to me shortly +after my Berry, and I felt it. It don't somehow seem nat'ral after +matrimony--a woman in your bed! I was obliged to have somebody, for +the cold sheets do give ye the creeps when you've been used to that +that's different." + +Upstairs they went together, Lucy not sharing these objections. Then +Lucy opened certain drawers, and exhibited pretty caps, and laced +linen, all adapted for a very small body, all the work of her own +hands: and Mrs. Berry praised them and her. "You been guessing a +boy--woman-like," she said. Then they cooed, and kissed, and +undressed by the fire, and knelt at the bedside, with their arms +about each other, praying; both praying for the unborn child; and +Mrs. Berry pressed Lucy's waist the moment she was about to breathe +the petition to heaven to shield and bless that coming life; and +thereat Lucy closed to her, and felt a strong love for her. Then +Lucy got into bed first, leaving Berry to put out the light, and +before she did so, Berry leaned over her, and eyed her roguishly, +saying, "I never see ye like this, but I'm half in love with ye +myself, you blushin' beauty! Sweet's your eyes, and your hair do +take one so--lyin' back. I'd never forgive my father if he kep me +away from ye four-and-twenty hours just. Husband o' that!" Berry +pointed at the young wife's loveliness. "Ye look so ripe with +kisses, and there they are a-languishin'!-- ... You never look so +but in your bed, ye beauty!--just as it ought to be." Lucy had to +pretend to rise to put out the light before Berry would give up her +amorous chaste soliloquy. Then they lay in bed, and Mrs. Berry +fondled her, and arranged for their departure to-morrow, and +reviewed Richard's emotions when he came to hear he was going to be +made a father by her, and hinted at Lucy's delicious shivers when +Richard was again in his rightful place, which she, Bessy Berry, now +usurped; and all sorts of amorous sweet things; enough to make one +fancy the adage subverted, that stolen fruits are sweetest; she drew +such glowing pictures of bliss within the law and the limits of the +conscience, till at last, worn out, Lucy murmured "Peepy, dear +Berry," and the soft woman gradually ceased her chirp. + +Bessy Berry did not sleep. She lay thinking of the sweet brave heart +beside her, and listening to Lucy's breath as it came and went; +squeezing the fair sleeper's hand now and then, to ease her love as +her reflections warmed. A storm of wind came howling over the +Hampshire hills, and sprang white foam on the water, and shook the +bare trees. It passed, leaving a thin cloth of snow on the wintry +land. The moon shone brilliantly. Berry heard the house-dog bark. +His bark was savage and persistent. She was roused by the noise. By +and by she fancied she heard a movement in the house; then it seemed +to her that the house-door opened. She cocked her ears, and could +almost make out voices in the midnight stillness. She slipped from +the bed, locked and bolted the door of the room, assured herself of +Lucy's unconsciousness, and went on tiptoe to the window. The trees +all stood white to the north; the ground glittered; the cold was +keen. Berry wrapped her fat arms across her bosom, and peeped as +close over the garden as the situation of the window permitted. +Berry was a soft, not a timid, woman: and it happened this night +that her thoughts were above the fears of the dark. She was sure of +the voices; curiosity without a shade of alarm held her on the +watch; and gathering bundles of her day-apparel round her neck and +shoulders, she silenced the chattering of her teeth as well as she +could, and remained stationary. The low hum of the voices came to a +break; something was said in a louder tone; the house-door quietly +shut; a man walked out of the garden into the road. He paused +opposite her window, and Berry let the blind go back to its place, +and peeped from behind an edge of it. He was in the shadow of the +house, so that it was impossible to discern much of his figure. +After some minutes he walked rapidly away, and Berry returned to the +bed an icicle, from which Lucy's limbs sensitively shrank. + +Next morning Mrs. Berry asked Tom Bakewell if he had been disturbed +in the night. Tom, the mysterious, said he had slept like a top. +Mrs. Berry went to the garden. The snow was partially melted; all +save one spot just under the portal, and there she saw the print of +a man's foot. By some strange guidance it occurred to her to go and +find one of Richard's boots. She did so, and, unperceived, she +measured the sole of the boot in that solitary footmark. There could +be no doubt that it fitted. She tried it from heel to toe a dozen +times. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +CLARE'S DIARY + + +Sir Austin Feverel had come to town with the serenity of a +philosopher who says, 'Tis now time; and the satisfaction of a man +who has not arrived thereat without a struggle. He had almost +forgiven his son. His deep love for him had well-nigh shaken loose +from wounded pride and more tenacious vanity. Stirrings of a remote +sympathy for the creature who had robbed him of his son and hewed at +his System, were in his heart of hearts. This he knew; and in his +own mind he took credit for his softness. But the world must not +suppose him soft; the world must think he was still acting on his +System. Otherwise what would his long absence signify?--Something +highly unphilosophical. So, though love was strong, and was moving +him to a straightforward course, the last tug of vanity drew him +still aslant. + +The Aphorist read himself so well, that to juggle with himself was a +necessity. As he wished the world to see him, he beheld himself: one +who entirely put aside mere personal feelings: one in whom parental +duty, based on the science of life, was paramount: a Scientific +Humanist, in short. + +He was, therefore, rather surprised at a coldness in Lady Blandish's +manner when he did appear. "At last!" said the lady, in a sad way +that sounded reproachfully. Now the Scientific Humanist had, of +course, nothing to reproach himself with. + +But where was Richard? + +Adrian positively averred he was not with his wife. + +"If he had gone," said the baronet, "he would have anticipated me by +a few hours." + +This, when repeated to Lady Blandish, should have propitiated her, +and shown his great forgiveness. She, however, sighed, and looked at +him wistfully. + +Their converse was not happy and deeply intimate. Philosophy did not +seem to catch her mind; and fine phrases encountered a rueful +assent, more flattering to their grandeur than to their influence. + +Days went by. Richard did not present himself. Sir Austin's pitch of +self-command was to await the youth without signs of impatience. + +Seeing this, the lady told him her fears for Richard, and mentioned +the rumour of him that was about. + +"If," said the baronet, "this person, his wife, is what you paint +her, I do not share your fears for him. I think too well of him. If +she is one to inspire the sacredness of that union, I think too well +of him. It is impossible." + +The lady saw one thing to be done. + +"Call her to you," she said. "Have her with you at Raynham. +Recognize her. It is the disunion and doubt that so confuses him and +drives him wild. I confess to you I hoped he had gone to her. It +seems not. If she is with you his way will be clear. Will you do +that?" + +Science is notoriously of slow movement. Lady Blandish's +proposition was far too hasty for Sir Austin. Women, rapid by +nature, have no idea of science. + +"We shall see her there in time, Emmeline. At present let it be +between me and my son." + +He spoke loftily. In truth it offended him to be asked to do +anything, when he had just brought himself to do so much. + +A month elapsed, and Richard appeared on the scene. + +The meeting between him and his father was not what his father had +expected and had crooned over in the Welsh mountains. Richard shook +his hand respectfully, and inquired after his health with the common +social solicitude. He then said: "During your absence, sir, I have +taken the liberty, without consulting you, to do something in which +you are more deeply concerned than myself. I have taken upon myself +to find out my mother and place her under my care. I trust you will +not think I have done wrong. I acted as I thought best." + +Sir Austin replied: "You are of an age, Richard, to judge for +yourself in such a case. I would have you simply beware of deceiving +yourself in imagining that you considered any one but yourself in +acting as you did." + +"I have not deceived myself, sir," said Richard, and the interview +was over. Both hated an exposure of the feelings, and in that both +were satisfied: but the baronet, as one who loves, hoped and looked +for tones indicative of trouble and delight in the deep heart; and +Richard gave him none of those. The young man did not even face him +as he spoke: if their eyes met by chance, Richard's were defiantly +cold. His whole bearing was changed. + +"This rash marriage has altered him," said the very just man of +science in life: and that meant: "it has debased him." + +He pursued his reflections. "I see in him the desperate maturity of +a suddenly-ripened nature: and but for my faith that good work is +never lost, what should I think of the toil of my years? Lost, +perhaps to me! lost to him! It may show itself in his children." + +The Philosopher, we may conceive, has contentment in benefiting +embryos: but it was a somewhat bitter prospect to Sir Austin. +Bitterly he felt the injury to himself. + +One little incident spoke well of Richard. A poor woman called at +the hotel while he was missing. The baronet saw her, and she told +him a tale that threw Christian light on one part of Richard's +nature. But this might gratify the father in Sir Austin; it did not +touch the man of science. A Feverel, his son, would not do less, he +thought. He sat down deliberately to study his son. + +No definite observation enlightened him. Richard ate and drank; +joked and laughed. He was generally before Adrian in calling for a +fresh bottle. He talked easily of current topics; his gaiety did not +sound forced. In all he did, nevertheless, there was not the air of +a youth who sees a future before him. Sir Austin put that down. It +might be carelessness, and wanton blood, for no one could say he had +much on his mind. The man of science was not reckoning that Richard +also might have learned to act and wear a mask. Dead subjects--this +is to say, people not on their guard--he could penetrate and +dissect. It is by a rare chance, as scientific men well know, that +one has an opportunity of examining the structure of the living. + +However, that rare chance was granted to Sir Austin. They were +engaged to dine with Mrs. Doria at the Foreys', and walked down to +her in the afternoon, father and son arm-in-arm, Adrian beside them. +Previously the offended father had condescended to inform his son +that it would shortly be time for him to return to his wife, +indicating that arrangements would ultimately be ordered to receive +her at Raynham. Richard had replied nothing; which might mean excess +of gratitude, or hypocrisy in concealing his pleasure, or any one of +the thousand shifts by which gratified human nature expresses itself +when all is made to run smooth with it. Now Mrs. Berry had her +surprise ready charged for the young husband. She had Lucy in her +own house waiting for him. Every day she expected him to call and be +overcome by the rapturous surprise, and every day, knowing his habit +of frequenting the park, she marched Lucy thither, under the plea +that Master Richard, whom she had already christened, should have an +airing. + +The round of the red winter sun was behind the bare Kensington +chestnuts, when these two parties met. Happily for Lucy and the +hope she bore in her bosom, she was perversely admiring a fair +horsewoman galloping by at the moment. Mrs. Berry plucked at her +gown once or twice, to prepare her eyes for the shock, but Lucy's +head was still half averted, and thinks Mrs. Berry, "'Twon't hurt +her if she go into his arms head foremost." They were close; Mrs. +Berry performed the bob preliminary. Richard held her silent with a +terrible face; he grasped her arm, and put her behind him. Other +people intervened. Lucy saw nothing to account for Berry's excessive +flutter. Berry threw it on the air and some breakfast bacon, which, +she said, she knew in the morning while she ate it, was bad for the +bile, and which probably was the cause of her bursting into tears, +much to Lucy's astonishment. + +"What you ate makes you cry, Mrs. Berry?" + +"It's all----" Mrs. Berry pressed at her heart and leaned sideways, +"it's all stomach, my dear. Don't ye mind," and becoming aware of +her unfashionable behaviour, she trailed off to the shelter of the +elms. + +"You have a singular manner with old ladies," said Sir Austin to his +son, after Berry had been swept aside. "Scarcely courteous. She +behaved like a mad woman, certainly.--Are you ill, my son?" + +Richard was death-pale, his strong form smitten through with +weakness. The baronet sought Adrian's eye. Adrian had seen Lucy as +they passed, and he had a glimpse of Richard's countenance while +disposing of Berry. Had Lucy recognized them, he would have gone to +her unhesitatingly. As she did not, he thought it well, under the +circumstances, to leave matters as they were. He answered the +baronet's look with a shrug. + +"Are you ill, Richard?" Sir Austin again asked his son. + +"Come on, sir! come on!" cried Richard. + +His father's further meditations, as they stepped briskly to the +Foreys', gave poor Berry a character which one who lectures on +matrimony, and has kissed but three men in her life, shrieks to hear +the very title of. + +"Richard will go to his wife to-morrow," Sir Austin said to Adrian +some time before they went in to dinner. + +Adrian asked him if he had chanced to see a young fair-haired lady +by the side of the old one Richard had treated so peculiarly; and to +the baronet's acknowledgment that he remembered to have observed +such a person, Adrian said: "That was his wife, sir." + +Sir Austin could not dissect the living subject. As if a bullet had +torn open the young man's skull, and some blast of battle laid his +palpitating organization bare, he watched every motion of his brain +and his heart; and with the grief and terror of one whose mental +habit was ever to pierce to extremes. Not altogether conscious that +he had hitherto played with life, he felt that he was suddenly +plunged into the stormful reality of it. He projected to speak +plainly to his son on all points that night. + +"Richard is very gay," Mrs. Doria whispered her brother. + +"All will be right with him to-morrow," he replied; for the game had +been in his hands so long, so long had he been the God of the +machine, that having once resolved to speak plainly and to act, he +was to a certain extent secure, bad as the thing to mend might be. + +"I notice he has rather a wild laugh--I don't exactly like his +eyes," said Mrs. Doria. + +"You will see a change in him to-morrow," the man of science +remarked. + +It was reserved for Mrs. Doria herself to experience that change. In +the middle of the dinner a telegraphic message from her son-in-law, +worthy John Todhunter, reached the house, stating that Clare was +alarmingly ill, bidding her come instantly. She cast about for some +one to accompany her, and fixed on Richard. Before he would give his +consent for Richard to go, Sir Austin desired to speak with him +apart, and in that interview he said to his son: "My dear Richard! +it was my intention that we should come to an understanding together +this night. But the time is short--poor Helen cannot spare many +minutes. Let me then say that you deceived me, and that I forgive +you. We fix our seal on the past. You will bring your wife to me +when you return." And very cheerfully the baronet looked down on the +generous future he thus founded. + +"Will you have her at Raynham at once, sir?" said Richard. + +"Yes, my son, when you bring her." + +"Are you mocking me, sir?" "Pray, what do you mean?" + +"I ask you to receive her at once." + +"Well! the delay cannot be long. I do not apprehend that you will be +kept from your happiness many days." + +"I think it will be some time, sir!" said Richard, sighing deeply. + +"And what mental freak is this that can induce you to postpone it +and play with your first duty?" + +"What is my first duty, sir?" + +"Since you are married, to be with your wife." + +"I have heard that from an old woman called Berry!" said Richard to +himself, not intending irony. + +"Will you receive her at once?" he asked resolutely. + +The baronet was clouded by his son's reception of his graciousness. +His grateful prospect had formerly been Richard's marriage--the +culmination of his System. Richard had destroyed his participation +in that. He now looked for a pretty scene in recompense:--Richard +leading up his wife to him, and both being welcomed by him +paternally, and so held one ostentatious minute in his embrace. + +He said: "Before you return, I demur to receiving her." + +"Very well, sir," replied his son, and stood as if he had spoken +all. + +"Really you tempt me to fancy you already regret your rash +proceeding!" the baronet exclaimed; and the next moment it pained +him he had uttered the words, Richard's eyes were so sorrowfully +fierce. It pained him, but he divined in that look a history, and he +could not refrain from glancing acutely and asking: "Do you?" + +"Regret it, sir?" The question aroused one of those struggles in the +young man's breast which a passionate storm of tears may still, and +which sink like leaden death into the soul when tears come not. +Richard's eyes had the light of the desert. + +"Do you?" his father repeated. "You tempt me--I almost fear you do." +At the thought--for he expressed his mind--the pity that he had for +Richard was not pure gold. + +"Ask me what I think of her, sir! Ask me what she is! Ask me what it +is to have taken one of God's precious angels and chained her to +misery! Ask me what it is to have plunged a sword into her heart, +and to stand over her and see such a creature bleeding! Do I regret +that? Why, yes, I do! Would you?" + +His eyes flew hard at his father under the ridge of his eyebrows. + +Sir Austin winced and reddened. Did he understand? There is ever in +the mind's eye a certain wilfulness. We see and understand; we see +and won't understand. + +"Tell me why you passed by her as you did this afternoon," he said +gravely: and in the same voice Richard answered: "I passed her +because I could not do otherwise." + +"Your wife, Richard?" + +"Yes! my wife!" + +"If she had seen you, Richard?" + +"God spared her that!" + +Mrs. Doria, bustling in practical haste, and bearing Richard's hat +and greatcoat in her energetic hands, came between them at this +juncture. Dimples of commiseration were in her cheeks while she +kissed her brother's perplexed forehead. She forgot her trouble +about Clare, deploring his fatuity. + +Sir Austin was forced to let his son depart. As of old, he took +counsel with Adrian, and the wise youth was soothing. "Somebody has +kissed him, sir, and the chaste boy can't get over it." This absurd +suggestion did more to appease the baronet than if Adrian had given +a veritable reasonable key to Richard's conduct. It set him thinking +that it might be a prudish strain in the young man's mind, due to +the System in difficulties. + +"I may have been wrong in one thing," he said, with an air of the +utmost doubt of it. "I, perhaps, was wrong in allowing him so much +liberty during his probation." + +Adrian pointed out to him that he had distinctly commanded it. + +"Yes, yes; that is on me." + +His was an order of mind that would accept the most burdensome +charges, and by some species of moral usury make a profit out of +them. + +Clare was little talked of. Adrian attributed the employment of the +telegraph to John Todhunter's uxorious distress at a toothache, or +possibly the first symptoms of an heir to his house. + +"That child's mind has disease in it. She is not sound," said the +baronet. + +On the door-step of the hotel, when they returned, stood Mrs. Berry. +Her wish to speak a few words with the baronet reverentially +communicated, she was ushered upstairs into his room. + +Mrs. Berry compressed her person in the chair she was beckoned to +occupy. + +"Well, ma'am, you have something to say," observed the baronet, for +she seemed loath to commence. + +"Wishin' I hadn't:" Mrs. Berry took him up, and mindful of the good +rule to begin at the beginning, pursued: "I dare say, Sir Austin, +you don't remember me, and I little thought when last we parted our +meeting'd be like this. Twenty year don't go over one without +showin' it, no more than twenty ox. It's a might o' time,--twenty +year! Leastways not quite twenty, it ain't." + +"Round figures are best," Adrian remarked. + +"In them round figures a be-loved son have growed up, and got +himself married!" said Mrs. Berry, diving straight into the case. + +Sir Austin then learnt that he had before him the culprit who had +assisted his son in that venture. It was a stretch of his patience +to hear himself addressed on a family matter, but he was naturally +courteous. + +"He came to my house, Sir Austin, a stranger! If twenty year alters +us as have knowed each other on the earth, how must they alter they +that we parted with just come from heaven! And a heavenly babe he +were! se sweet! se strong! _so_ fat!" + +Adrian laughed aloud. + +Mrs. Berry bumped a curtsey to him in her chair, continuing: "I +wished afore I spoke to say how thankful am I bound to be for my +pension not cut short, as have offended so, but that I know Sir +Austin Feverel, Raynham Abbey, ain't one o' them that likes to hear +their good deeds published. And a pension to me now, it's something +more than it were. For a pension and pretty rosy cheeks in a maid, +which I was--that's a bait many a man'll bite, that won't so a +forsaken wife!" + +"If you will speak to the point, ma'am, I will listen to you," the +baronet interrupted her. + +"It's the beginnin' that's the worst, and that's over, thank the +Lord! So I'll speak, Sir Austin, and say my say:--Lord speed me! +Believin' our idees o' matrimony to be sim'lar, then, I'll say, once +married--married for life! Yes! I don't even like widows. For I +can't stop at the grave. Not at the tomb I can't stop. My husband's +my husband, and if I'm a body at the Resurrection, I say speaking +humbly, my Berry is the husband o' my body; and to think of two +claimin' of me then--it makes me hot all over. Such is my notion of +that state 'tween man and woman. No givin' in marriage, o' course I +know, and if so I'm single." + +The baronet suppressed a smile. "Really, my good woman, you wander +very much." + +"Beggin' pardon, Sir Austin; but I has my point before me all the +same, and I'm comin' to it. Ac-knowledgin' our error, it's done, and +bein' done, it's writ aloft. Oh! if you only knew what a sweet young +creature she be! Indeed 'taint all of humble birth that's unworthy, +Sir Austin. And she got her idees, too. She reads History! She talk +that sensible as would surprise ye. But for all that she's a prey to +the artful o' men--unpertected. And it's a young marriage--but +there's no fear for her, as far as she go. The fear's t'other way. +There's that in a man--at the commencement--which make of him Lord +knows what, if you any way interferes: whereas a woman bides quiet! +It's consolation catch her, which is what we mean by seducin'. +Whereas a man--he's a savage!" + +Sir Austin turned his face to Adrian, who was listening with huge +delight. + +"Well, ma'am, I see you have something in your mind, if you would +only come to it quickly." + +"Then here's my point, Sir Austin. I say you bred him so as there +ain't another young gentleman like him in England, and proud he make +me. And as for her, I'll risk sayin'--it's done, and no harm--you +might search England through, and nowhere will ye find a maid that's +his match like his own wife. Then there they be. Are they together +as should be? O Lord no! Months they been divided. Then she all +lonely and exposed, I went, and fetched her out of seducers' +ways--which they may say what they like, but the inn'cent is most +open to when they're healthy and confidin'--I fetch her, and--the +liberty--boxed her safe in my own house. So much for that sweet! +That you may do with women. But it's him--Mr. Richard--I _am_ bold, +I know, but there--I'm in for it, and the Lord'll help me! It's him, +Sir Austin, in this great metropolis, warm from a young marriage. +It's him, and--I say nothin' of her, and how sweet she bears it, and +it's eating her at a time when Natur' should have no other trouble +but the one that's goin' on--it's him, and I ask--so bold--shall +there--and a Christian gentleman his father--shall there be a tug +'tween him as a son and him as a husband--soon to be somethin' else? +I speak bold out--I'd have sons obey their fathers, but the priest's +words spoke over him, which they're now in my ears, I say I ain't a +doubt on earth--I'm sure there ain't one in heaven--which dooty's +the holier of the two." + +Sir Austin heard her to an end. Their views on the junction of the +sexes were undoubtedly akin. To be lectured on his prime subject, +however, was slightly disagreeable, and to be obliged mentally to +assent to this old lady's doctrine was rather humiliating, when it +could not be averred that he had latterly followed it out. He sat +cross-legged and silent, a finger to his temple. + +"One gets so addle-pated thinkin' many things," said Mrs. Berry, +simply. "That's why we see wonder clever people goin' wrong--to my +mind. I think it's al'ays the plan in a dielemmer to pray God and +walk forward." + +The keen-witted soft woman was tracking the baronet's thoughts, and +she had absolutely run him down and taken an explanation out of his +mouth, by which Mrs. Berry was to have been informed that he had +acted from a principle of his own, and devolved a wisdom she could +not be expected to comprehend. + +Of course he became advised immediately that it would be waste of +time to direct such an explanation to her inferior capacity. + +He gave her his hand, saying, "My son has gone out of town to see +his cousin, who is ill. He will return in two or three days, and +then they will both come to me at Raynham." + +Mrs. Berry took the tips of his fingers, and went half-way to the +floor perpendicularly. "He pass her like a stranger in the park this +evenin'," she faltered. + +"Ah?" said the baronet. "Yes, well! they will be at Raynham before +the week is over." + +Mrs. Berry was not quite satisfied. "Not of his own accord he pass +that sweet young wife of his like a stranger this day, Sir Austin!" + +"I must beg you not to intrude further, ma'am." + +Mrs. Berry bobbed her bunch of a body out of the room. + +"All's well as ends well," she said to herself. "It's bad inquirin' too +close among men. We must take 'em somethin' like Providence--_as_ +they come. Thank heaven! I kep' back the baby." + +In Mrs. Berry's eyes the baby was the victorious reserve. + +Adrian asked his chief what he thought of that specimen of women. + +"I think I have not met a better in my life," said the baronet, +mingling praise and sarcasm. + + * * * * * + +Clare lies in her bed as placid as in the days when she breathed; +her white hands stretched their length along the sheets, at peace +from head to feet. She needs iron no more. Richard is face to face +with death for the first time. He sees the sculpture of clay--the +spark gone. + +Clare gave her mother the welcome of the dead. This child would have +spoken nothing but kind commonplaces had she been alive. She was +dead, and none knew her malady. On her fourth finger were two +wedding-rings. + +When hours of weeping had silenced the mother's anguish, she, for +some comfort she saw in it, pointed out that strange thing to +Richard, speaking low in the chamber of the dead; and then he learnt +that it was his own lost ring Clare wore in the two worlds. He +learnt from her husband that Clare's last request had been that +neither of the rings should be removed. She had written it; she +would not speak it. + +"I beg of my husband, and all kind people who may have the care of +me between this and the grave, to bury me with my hands untouched." + +The tracing of the words showed the bodily torment she was +suffering, as she wrote them on a scrap of paper found beside her +pillow. + +In wonder, as the dim idea grew from the waving of Clare's dead +hand, Richard paced the house, and hung about the awful room; +dreading to enter it, reluctant to quit it. The secret Clare had +buried while she lived, arose with her death. He saw it play like +flame across her marble features. The memory of her voice was like a +knife at his nerves. His coldness to her started up accusingly: her +meekness was bitter blame. + +On the evening of the fourth day, her mother came to him in his +bedroom, with a face so white that he asked himself if aught worse +could happen to a mother than the loss of her child. Choking she +said to him, "Read this," and thrust a leather-bound pocket-book +trembling in his hand. She would not breathe to him what it was. She +entreated him not to open it before her. + +"Tell me," she said, "tell me what you think. John must not hear of +it. I have nobody to consult but you--O Richard!" + +"MY DIARY" was written in the round hand of Clare's childhood on the +first page. The first name his eye encountered was his own. + +"Richard's fourteenth birthday. I have worked him a purse and put it +under his pillow, because he is going to have plenty of money. He +does not notice me now because he has a friend now, and he is ugly, +but Richard is not, and never will be." + +The occurrences of that day were subsequently recorded, and a +childish prayer to God for him set down. Step by step he saw her +growing mind in his history. As she advanced in years she began to +look back, and made much of little trivial remembrances, all bearing +upon him. + +"We went into the fields and gathered cowslips together, and pelted +each other, and I told him he used to call them 'coals-sleeps' when +he was a baby, and he was angry at my telling him, for he does not +like to be told he was ever a baby." + +He remembered the incident, and remembered his stupid scorn of her +meek affection. Little Clare! how she lived before him in her white +dress and pink ribbons, and soft dark eyes! Upstairs she was lying +dead. He read on: + +"Mama says there is no one in the world like Richard, and I am sure +there is not, not in the whole world. He says he is going to be a +great General and going to the wars. If he does I shall dress myself +as a boy and go after him, and he will not know me till I am +wounded. Oh I pray he will never, never be wounded. I wonder what I +should feel if Richard was ever to die." + +Upstairs Clare was lying dead. + +"Lady Blandish said there was a likeness between Richard and me. +Richard said I hope I do not hang down my head as she does. He is +angry with me because I do not look people in the face and speak +out, but I know I am not looking after earthworms." + +Yes. He had told her that. A shiver seized him at the recollection. + +Then it came to a period when the words: "Richard kissed me," stood +by themselves, and marked a day in her life. + +Afterwards it was solemnly discovered that Richard wrote poetry. He +read one of his old forgotten compositions penned when he had that +ambition. + + "Thy truth to me is truer + Than horse, or dog, or blade; + Thy vows to me are fewer + Than ever maiden made. + + Thou steppest from thy splendour + To make my life a song: + My bosom shall be tender + As thine has risen strong." + +All the verses were transcribed. "It is he who is the humble +knight," Clare explained at the close, "and his lady is a Queen. Any +Queen would throw her crown away for him." + +It came to that period when Clare left Raynham with her mother. + +"Richard was not sorry to lose me. He only loves boys and men. +Something tells me I shall never see Raynham again. He was dressed +in blue. He said Good-bye, Clare, and kissed me on the cheek. +Richard never kisses me on the mouth. He did not know I went to his +bed and kissed him while he was asleep. He sleeps with one arm +under his head, and the other out on the bed. I moved away a bit of +his hair that was over his eyes. I wanted to cut it. I have one +piece. I do not let anybody see I am unhappy, not even mama. She +says I want iron. I am sure I do not. I like to write my name. Clare +Doria Forey. Richard's is Richard Doria Feverel." + +His breast rose convulsively. Clare Doria Forey! He knew the music +of that name. He had heard it somewhere. It sounded faint and mellow +now behind the hills of death. + +He could not read for tears. It was midnight. The hour seemed to +belong to her. The awful stillness and the darkness were Clare's. +Clare's voice clear and cold from the grave possessed it. + +Painfully, with blinded eyes, he looked over the breathless pages. +She spoke of his marriage, and her finding the ring. + +"I knew it was his. I knew he was going to be married that morning. +I saw him stand by the altar when they laughed at breakfast. His +wife must be so beautiful! Richard's wife! Perhaps he will love me +better now he is married. Mama says they must be separated. That is +shameful. If I can help him I will. I pray so that he may be happy. +I hope God hears poor sinners' prayers. I am very sinful. Nobody +knows it as I do. They say I am good, but I know. When I look on the +ground I am not looking after earthworms, as he said. Oh, do forgive +me, God!" + +Then she spoke of her own marriage, and that it was her duty to obey +her mother. A blank in the Diary ensued. + +"I have seen Richard. Richard despises me," was the next entry. + +But now as he read his eyes were fixed, and the delicate feminine +handwriting like a black thread drew on his soul to one terrible +conclusion. + +"I cannot live. Richard despises me. I cannot bear the touch of my +fingers or the sight of my face. Oh! I understand him now. He should +not have kissed me so that last time. I wished to die while his +mouth was on mine." + +Further: "I have no escape. Richard said he would die rather than +endure it. I know he would. Why should I be afraid to do what he +would do? I think if my husband whipped me I could bear it better. +He is so kind, and tries to make me cheerful. He will soon be very +unhappy. I pray to God half the night. I seem to be losing sight of +my God the more I pray." + +Richard laid the book open on the table. Phantom surges seemed to be +mounting and travelling for his brain. Had Clare taken his wild +words in earnest? Did she lie there dead--he shrouded the thought. + +He wrapped the thoughts in shrouds, but he was again reading. + +"A quarter to one o'clock. I shall not be alive this time to-morrow. +I shall never see Richard now. I dreamed last night we were in the +fields together, and he walked with his arm round my waist. We were +children, but I thought we were married, and I showed him I wore his +ring, and he said--if you always wear it, Clare, you are as good as +my wife. Then I made a vow to wear it for ever and ever.... It is +not mama's fault. She does not think as Richard and I do of these +things. He is not a coward, nor am I. He hates cowards. + +"I have written to his father to make him happy. Perhaps when I am +dead he will hear what I say. + +"I heard just now Richard call distinctly--Clari, come out to me. +Surely he has not gone. I am going I know not where. I cannot think. +I am very cold." + +The words were written larger, and staggered towards the close, as +if her hand had lost mastery over the pen. + +"I can only remember Richard now a boy. A little boy and a big boy. +I am not sure now of his voice. I can only remember certain words. +'Clari,' and 'Don Ricardo,' and his laugh. He used to be full of +fun. Once we laughed all day together tumbling in the hay. Then he +had a friend and began to write poetry, and be proud. If I had +married a young man he would have forgiven me, but I should not have +been happier. I must have died. God never looks on me. + +"It is past two o'clock. The sheep are bleating outside. It must be +very cold in the ground. Good-bye, Richard." + +With his name it began and ended. Even to herself Clare was not +over-communicative. The book was slender, yet her nineteen years of +existence left half the number of pages white. + +Those last words drew him irresistibly to gaze on her. There she +lay, the same impassive Clare. For a moment he wondered she had not +moved--to him she had become so different. She who had just filled +his ears with strange tidings--it was not possible to think her +dead! She seemed to have been speaking to him all through his life. +His image was on that still heart. + +He dismissed the night-watchers from the room, and remained with her +alone, till the sense of death oppressed him, and then the shock +sent him to the window to look for sky and stars. Behind a low broad +pine, hung with frosty mist, he heard a bell-wether of the flock in +the silent fold. Death in life it sounded. + +The mother found him praying at the foot of Clare's bed. She knelt +by his side, and they prayed, and their joint sobs shook their +bodies, but neither of them shed many tears. They held a dark +unspoken secret in common. They prayed God to forgive her. + +Clare was buried in the family vault of the Todhunters. Her mother +breathed no wish to have her lying at Lobourne. + +After the funeral, what they alone upon earth knew brought them +together. + +"Richard," she said, "the worst is over for me. I have no one to +love but you, dear. We have all been fighting against God, and +this.... Richard! you will come with me, and be united to your wife, +and spare my brother what I suffer." + +He answered the broken spirit: "I have killed one. She sees me as I +am. I cannot go with you to my wife, because I am not worthy to +touch her hand, and were I to go, I should do _this_ to silence my +self-contempt. Go you to her, and when she asks of me, say I have a +death upon my head that----No! say that I am abroad, seeking for +that which shall cleanse me. If I find it I shall come to claim her. +If not, God help us all!" + +She had no strength to contest his solemn words, or stay him, and he +went forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +AUSTIN RETURNS + + +A man with a beard saluted the wise youth Adrian in the full blaze +of Piccadilly with a clap on the shoulder. Adrian glanced leisurely +behind. + +"Do you want to try my nerves, my dear fellow? I'm not a man of +fashion, happily, or you would have struck the seat of them. How are +you?" + +That was his welcome to Austin Wentworth after his long absence. + +Austin took his arm, and asked for news, with the hunger of one who +had been in the wilderness five years. + +"The Whigs have given up the ghost, my dear Austin. The free Briton +is to receive Liberty's pearl, the Ballot. The Aristocracy has had a +cycle's notice to quit. The Monarchy and old Madeira are going out; +Demos and Cape wines are coming in. They call it Reform. So, you +see, your absence has worked wonders. Depart for another five years, +and you will return to ruined stomachs, cracked sconces, general +upset, an equality made perfect by universal prostration." + +Austin indulged him in a laugh. "I want to hear about ourselves. How +is old Ricky?" + +"You know of his--what do they call it when greenhorns are licenced +to jump into the milkpails of dairymaids?--a very charming little +woman she makes, by the way--presentable! quite old Anacreon's rose +in milk. Well! everybody thought the System must die of it. Not a +bit. It continued to flourish in spite. It's in a consumption now, +though--emaciated, lean, raw, spectral! I've this morning escaped +from Raynham to avoid the sight of it. I have brought our genial +uncle Hippias to town--a delightful companion! I said to him: 'We've +had a fine Spring.' 'Ugh!' he answers, 'there's a time when you come +to think the Spring old.' You should have heard how he trained out +the 'old.' I felt something like decay in my sap just to hear him. +In the prize-fight of life, my dear Austin, our uncle Hippias has +been unfairly hit below the belt. Let's guard ourselves there, and +go and order dinner." + +"But where's Ricky now, and what is he doing?" said Austin. + +"Ask what he has done. The miraculous boy has gone and got a baby!" + +"A child? Richard has one?" Austin's clear eyes shone with pleasure. + +"I suppose it's not common among your tropical savages. He has one: +one as big as two. That has been the death-blow to the System. It +bore the marriage--the baby was too much for it. Could it swallow +the baby, 'twould live. She, the wonderful woman, has produced a +large boy. I assure you it's quite amusing to see the System opening +its mouth every hour of the day, trying to gulp him down, aware that +it would be a consummate cure, or happy release." + +By degrees Austin learnt the baronet's proceedings, and smiled +sadly. + +"How has Ricky turned out?" he asked. "What sort of a character has +he?" + +"The poor boy is ruined by his excessive anxiety about it. +Character? he has the character of a bullet with a treble charge of +powder behind it. Enthusiasm is the powder. That boy could get up an +enthusiasm for the maiden days of Ops! He was going to reform the +world, after your fashion, Austin,--you have something to answer +for. Unfortunately he began with the feminine side of it. Cupid +proud of Phoebus newly slain, or Pluto wishing to people his +kingdom, if you like, put it into the soft head of one of the +guileless grateful creatures to kiss him for his good work. Oh, +horror! he never expected that. Conceive the System in the flesh, +and you have our Richard. The consequence is, that this male Peri +refuses to enter his Paradise, though the gates are open for him, +the trumpets blow, and the fair unspotted one awaits him fruitful +within. We heard of him last that he was trying the German +waters--preparatory to his undertaking the release of Italy from the +subjugation of the Teuton. Let's hope they'll wash him. He is in the +company of Lady Judith Felle--your old friend, the ardent female +Radical who married the decrepit lord to carry out her principles. +They always marry English lords, or foreign princes. I admire their +tactics." + +"Judith is bad for him in such a state. I like her, but she was +always too sentimental," said Austin. + +"Sentiment made her marry the old lord, I suppose? I like her _for_ +her sentiment, Austin. Sentimental people are sure to live long and +die fat. Feeling, that's the slayer, coz. Sentiment! 'tis the +cajolery of existence: the soft bloom which whoso weareth, he or she +is enviable. Would that I had more!" + +"You're not much changed, Adrian." + +"I'm not a Radical, Austin." + +Further inquiries, responded to in Adrian's figurative speech, +instructed Austin that the baronet was waiting for his son, in a +posture of statuesque offended paternity, before he would receive +his daughter-in-law and grandson. That was what Adrian meant by the +efforts of the System to swallow the baby. + +"We're in a tangle," said the wise youth. "Time will extricate us, I +presume, or what is the venerable signor good for?" + +Austin mused some minutes, and asked for Lucy's place of residence. + +"We'll go to her by and by," said Adrian. + +"I shall go and see her now," said Austin. + +"Well, we'll go and order the dinner first, coz." + +"Give me her address." + +"Really, Austin, you carry matters with too long a beard," Adrian +objected. "Don't you care what you eat?" he roared hoarsely, looking +humorously hurt. "I daresay not. A slice out of him that's +handy--sauce du ciel! Go, batten on the baby, cannibal. Dinner at +seven." + +Adrian gave him his own address, and Lucy's, and strolled off to do +the better thing. + +Overnight Mrs. Berry had observed a long stranger in her tea-cup. +Posting him on her fingers and starting him with a smack, he had +vaulted lightly and thereby indicated that he was positively coming +the next day. She forgot him in the bustle of her duties and the +absorption of her faculties in thoughts of the incomparable stranger +Lucy had presented to the world, till a knock at the street-door +reminded her. "There he is!" she cried, as she ran to open to him. +"There's my stranger come!" Never was a woman's faith in omens so +justified. The stranger desired to see Mrs. Richard Feverel. He +said his name was Mr. Austin Wentworth. Mrs. Berry clasped her +hands, exclaiming, "Come at last!" and ran bolt out of the house to +look up and down the street. Presently she returned with many +excuses for her rudeness, saying: "I expected to see her comin' +home, Mr. Wentworth. Every day twice a day she go out to give her +blessed angel an airing. No leavin' the child with nursemaids for +her! She _is_ a mother! and good milk, too, thank the Lord! though +her heart's so low." + +Indoors Mrs. Berry stated who she was, related the history of the +young couple, and her participation in it, and admired the beard. +"Though I'd swear you don't wear it for ornament, now!" she said, +having in the first impulse designed a stroke at man's vanity. + +Ultimately Mrs. Berry spoke of the family complication, and with +dejected head and joined hands threw out dark hints about Richard. + +While Austin was giving his cheerfuller views of the case, Lucy came +in, preceding the baby. + +"I am Austin Wentworth," he said, taking her hand. They read each +other's faces, these two, and smiled kinship. + +"Your name is Lucy?" + +She affirmed it softly. + +"And mine is Austin, as you know." + +Mrs. Berry allowed time for Lucy's charms to subdue him, and +presented Richard's representative, who, seeing a new face, suffered +himself to be contemplated before he commenced crying aloud and +knocking at the doors of Nature for something that was due to him. + +"Ain't he a lusty darlin'?" says Mrs. Berry. "Ain't he like his own +father? There can't be no doubt about zoo, zoo pitty pet. Look at +his fists. Ain't he got passion? Ain't he a splendid roarer? Oh!" +and she went off rapturously into baby-language. + +A fine boy, certainly. Mrs. Berry exhibited his legs for further +proof, desiring Austin's confirmation as to their being dumplings. + +Lucy murmured a word of excuse, and bore the splendid roarer out of +the room. + +"She might a done it here," said Mrs. Berry. "There's no prettier +sight, I say. If her dear husband could but see that! He's off in +his heroics--he want to be doin' all sort o' things: I say he'll +never do anything grander than that baby. You should 'a seen her +uncle over that baby--he came here, for I said, you _shall_ see your +own fam'ly, my dear, and so she thinks. He come, and he laughed over +the baby in the joy of his heart, poor man! he cried, he did. You +should see that Mr. Thompson, Mr. Wentworth--a friend o' Mr. +Richard's, and a very modest-minded young gentleman--he worships her +in his innocence. It's a sight to see him with that baby. My belief +is he's unhappy 'cause he can't anyways be nurse-maid to him. O Mr. +Wentworth! what _do_ you think of her, sir?" + +Austin's reply was as satisfactory as a man's poor speech could make +it. He heard that Lady Feverel was in the house, and Mrs. Berry +prepared the way for him to pay his respects to her. Then Mrs. Berry +ran to Lucy, and the house buzzed with new life. The simple +creatures felt in Austin's presence something good among them. "He +don't speak much," said Mrs. Berry, "but I see by his eye he mean a +deal. He ain't one o' yer long-word gentry, who's all gay deceivers, +every one of 'em." + +Lucy pressed the hearty suckling into her breast. "I wonder what he +thinks of me, Mrs. Berry? I could not speak to him. I loved him +before I saw him. I knew what his face was like." + +"He looks proper even with a beard, and that's a trial for a +virtuous man," said Mrs. Berry. "One sees straight _through_ the +hair with him. Think! he'll think what any _man_'d think--you +a-suckin' spite o' all your sorrow, my sweet,--and my Berry talkin' +of his Roman matrons!--here's a English wife'll match 'em all! +that's what he thinks. And now that leetle dark under yer eye'll +clear, my darlin', now he've come." + +Mrs. Berry looked to no more than that; Lucy to no more than the +peace she had in being near Richard's best friend. When she sat down +to tea it was with a sense that the little room that held her was +her home perhaps for many a day. + +A chop procured and cooked by Mrs. Berry formed Austin's dinner. +During the meal he entertained them with anecdotes of his travels. +Poor Lucy had no temptation to try to conquer Austin. That heroic +weakness of hers was gone. + +Mrs. Berry had said: "Three cups--I goes no further," and Lucy had +rejected the proffer of more tea, when Austin, who was in the thick +of a Brazilian forest, asked her if she was a good traveller. + +"I mean, can you start at a minute's notice?" + +Lucy hesitated, and then said, "Yes," decisively, to which Mrs. +Berry added, that she was not a "luggage-woman." + +"There used to be a train at seven o'clock," Austin remarked, +consulting his watch. + +The two women were silent. + +"Could you get ready to come with me to Raynham in ten minutes?" + +Austin looked as if he had asked a commonplace question. + +Lucy's lips parted to speak. She could not answer. + +Loud rattled the teaboard to Mrs. Berry's dropping hands. + +"Joy and deliverance!" she exclaimed with a foundering voice. + +"Will you come?" Austin kindly asked again. + +Lucy tried to stop her beating heart, as she answered, "Yes." Mrs. +Berry cunningly pretended to interpret the irresolution in her tones +with a mighty whisper: "She's thinking what's to be done with baby." + +"He must learn to travel," said Austin. + +"Oh!" cried Mrs. Berry, "and I'll be his nuss, and bear him, a +sweet! Oh! and think of it! me nurse-maid once more at Raynham +Abbey! but it's nurse-woman now, you must say. Let us be goin' on +the spot." + +She started up and away in hot haste, fearing delay would cool the +heaven-sent resolve. Austin smiled, eying his watch and Lucy +alternately. She was wishing to ask a multitude of questions. His +face reassured her, and saying: "I will be dressed instantly," she +also left the room. Talking, bustling, preparing, wrapping up my +lord, and looking to their neatnesses, they were nevertheless ready +within the time prescribed by Austin, and Mrs. Berry stood humming +over the baby. "He'll sleep it through," she said. "He's had enough +for an alderman, and goes to sleep sound after his dinner, he do, a +duck!" Before they departed, Lucy ran up to Lady Feverel. She +returned for the small one. + +"One moment, Mr. Wentworth!" + +"Just two," said Austin. + +Master Richard was taken up, and when Lucy came back her eyes were +full of tears. + +"She thinks she is never to see him again, Mr. Wentworth." + +"She shall," Austin said simply. + +Off they went, and with Austin near her, Lucy forgot to dwell at all +upon the great act of courage she was performing. + +"I do hope baby will not wake," was her chief solicitude. + +"He!" cries nurse-woman Berry from the rear, "his little tum-tum's +_as_ tight _as_ he can hold, a pet! a lamb! a bird! a beauty! and ye +may take yer oath he never wakes till that's slack. He've got +character of his own, a blessed!" + +There are some tremendous citadels that only want to be taken by +storm. The baronet sat alone in his library, sick of resistance, and +rejoicing in the pride of no surrender; a terror to his friends and +to himself. Hearing Austin's name sonorously pronounced by the man +of calves, he looked up from his book, and held out his hand. "Glad +to see you, Austin." His appearance betokened complete security. The +next minute he found himself escaladed. + +It was a cry from Mrs. Berry that told him others were in the room +besides Austin. Lucy stood a little behind the lamp; Mrs. Berry +close to the door. The door was half open, and passing through it +might be seen the petrified figure of a fine man. The baronet +glancing over the lamp rose at Mrs. Berry's signification of a +woman's personality. Austin stepped back and led Lucy to him by the +hand. "I have brought Richard's wife, sir," he said with a pleased, +perfectly uncalculating, countenance, that was disarming. Very pale +and trembling Lucy bowed. She felt her two hands taken, and heard a +kind voice. Could it be possible it belonged to the dreadful father +of her husband? She lifted her eyes nervously: her hands were still +detained. The baronet contemplated Richard's choice. Had he ever had +a rivalry with those pure eyes? He saw the pain of her position +shooting across her brows, and, uttering gentle inquiries as to her +health, placed her in a seat. Mrs. Berry had already fallen into a +chair. + +"What aspect do you like for your bedroom?--East?" said the baronet. + +Lucy was asking herself wonderingly: "Am I to stay?" + +"Perhaps you had better take to Richard's room at once," he pursued. +"You have the Lobourne valley there and a good morning air, and will +feel more at home." + +Lucy's colour mounted. Mrs. Berry gave a short cough, as one who +should say, "The day is ours!" Undoubtedly--strange as it was to +think it--the fortress was carried. + +"Lucy is rather tired," said Austin, and to hear her Christian name +thus bravely spoken brought grateful dew to her eyes. + +The baronet was about to touch the bell. "But have you come alone?" +he asked. + +At this Mrs. Berry came forward. Not immediately: it seemed to +require effort for her to move, and when she was within the region +of the lamp, her agitation could not escape notice. The blissful +bundle shook in her arms. + +"By the way, what is he to me?" Austin inquired generally as he went +and unveiled the younger hope of Raynham. "My relationship is not so +defined as yours, sir." + +An observer might have supposed that the baronet peeped at his +grandson with the courteous indifference of one who merely wished to +compliment the mother of anybody's child. + +"I really think he's like Richard," Austin laughed. Lucy looked: I +am sure he is! + +"As like as one to one," Mrs. Berry murmured feebly; but Grandpapa +not speaking she thought it incumbent on her to pluck up. "And he's +as healthy as his father was, Sir Austin--spite o' the might 'a +beens. Reg'lar as the clock! We never want a clock since he come. We +knows the hour o' the day, and _of_ the night." + +"You nurse him yourself, of course?" the baronet spoke to Lucy, and +was satisfied on that point. + +Mrs. Berry was going to display his prodigious legs. Lucy, fearing +the consequent effect on the prodigious lungs, begged her not to +wake him. "'T'd take a deal to do that," said Mrs. Berry, and +harped on Master Richard's health and the small wonder it was that +he enjoyed it, considering the superior quality of his diet, and the +lavish attentions of his mother, and then suddenly fell silent on a +deep sigh. + +"He looks healthy," said the baronet, "but I am not a judge of +babies." + +Thus, having capitulated, Raynham chose to acknowledge its new +commandant, who was now borne away, under the directions of the +housekeeper, to occupy the room Richard had slept in when an infant. + +Austin cast no thought on his success. The baronet said: "She is +extremely well-looking." He replied: "A person you take to at once." +There it ended. + +But a much more animated colloquy was taking place aloft, where Lucy +and Mrs. Berry sat alone. Lucy expected her to talk about the +reception they had met with, and the house, and the peculiarities of +the rooms, and the solid happiness that seemed in store. Mrs. Berry +all the while would persist in consulting the looking-glass. Her +first distinct answer was, "My dear! tell me candid, how do I look?" + +"Very nice indeed, Mrs. Berry; but could you have believed he would +be so kind, so considerate?" + +"I am sure I looked a frump," returned Mrs. Berry. "Oh dear! two +birds at a shot. What _do_ you think, now?" + +"I never saw so wonderful a likeness," says Lucy. + +"Likeness! look at me." Mrs. Berry was trembling and hot in the +palms. + +"You're very feverish, dear Berry. What can it be?" + +"Ain't it like the love-flutters of a young gal, my dear." + +"Go to bed, Berry, dear," says Lucy, pouting in her soft caressing +way. "I will undress you, and see to you, dear heart! You've had so +much excitement." + +"Ha! ha!" Berry laughed hysterically; "she thinks it's about this +business of hers. Why, it's child's-play, my darlin'. But I didn't +look for tragedy, to-night. Sleep in this house I can't, my love!" + +Lucy was astonished. "Not sleep here, Mrs. Berry?--Oh! why, you +silly old thing? I know." + +"Do ye!" said Mrs. Berry, with a sceptical nose. + +"You're afraid of ghosts." + +"Belike I am when they're six foot two in their shoes, and bellows +when you stick a pin into their calves. I seen my Berry!" + +"Your husband?" + +"Large as life!" + +Lucy meditated on optical delusions, but Mrs. Berry described him as +the Colossus who had marched them into the library, and vowed that +he had recognized her and quaked. "Time ain't aged him," said Mrs. +Berry, "whereas me! he've got his excuse now. I _know_ I look a +frump." + +Lucy kissed her: "You look the nicest, dearest old thing." + +"You may say an old thing, my dear." + +"And your husband is really here?" + +"Berry's below!" + +Profoundly uttered as this was, it chased every vestige of +incredulity. + +"What will you do, Mrs. Berry?" + +"Go, my dear. Leave him to be happy in his own way. It's over atween +us, I see that. When I entered the house I felt there was something +comin' over me, and lo and behold ye! no sooner was we in the +hall-passage--if it hadn't been for that blessed infant I should 'a +dropped. I must 'a known his step, for my heart began thumpin', and +I knew I hadn't got my hair straight--that Mr. Wentworth was in such +a hurry--nor my best gown. I knew he'd scorn me. He hates frumps." + +"Scorn you!" cried Lucy, angrily. "He who has behaved so wickedly!" + +Mrs. Berry attempted to rise. "I may as well go at once," she +whimpered. "If I see him I shall only be disgracin' of myself. I +feel it all on my side already. Did ye mark him, my dear? I know I +was vexin' to him at times, I was. Those big men are se touchy about +their dignity--nat'ral. Hark at me! I'm goin' all soft in a minute. +Let me leave the house, my dear. I daresay it was good half my +fault. Young women don't understand men sufficient--not +altogether--and I was a young woman then; and then what they goes +and does they ain't quite answerable for: they feel, I daresay, +pushed from behind. Yes. I'll go. I'm a frump. I'll go. 'Tain't in +natur' for me to sleep in the same house." + +Lucy laid her hands on Mrs. Berry's shoulders, and forcibly fixed +her in her seat. "Leave baby, naughty woman? I tell you he shall +come to you, and fall on his knees to you and beg your forgiveness." + +"Berry on his knees!" + +"Yes. And he shall beg and pray you to forgive him." + +"If you get more from Martin Berry than breath-away words, great'll +be my wonder!" said Mrs. Berry. + +"We will see," said Lucy, thoroughly determined to do something for +the good creature that had befriended her. + +Mrs. Berry examined her gown. "Won't it seem we're runnin' after +him?" she murmured faintly. + +"He is your husband, Mrs. Berry. He may be wanting to come to you +now." + +"Oh! Where is all I was goin' to say to that man when we met!" Mrs. +Berry ejaculated. Lucy had left the room. + +On the landing outside the door Lucy met a lady dressed in black, +who stopped her and asked if she was Richard's wife, and kissed her, +passing from her immediately. Lucy despatched a message for Austin, +and related the Berry history. Austin sent for the great man, and +said: "Do you know your wife is here?" Before Berry had time to draw +himself up to enunciate his longest, he was requested to step +upstairs, and as his young mistress at once led the way, Berry could +not refuse to put his legs in motion and carry the stately edifice +aloft. + +Of the interview Mrs. Berry gave Lucy a slight sketch that night. +"He began in the old way, my dear, and says I, a true heart and +plain words, Martin Berry. So there he cuts himself and his Johnson +short, and down he goes--down _on_ his knees. I never could 'a +believed it. I kep my dignity as a woman till I see that sight, but +that done for me. I was a ripe apple in his arms 'fore I knew where +I was. There's something about a fine man on his knees that's too +much for us women. And it reely was the penitent on his two knees, +not the lover on his one. If he mean it! But ah! what do you think +he begs of me, my dear?--not to make it known in the house just yet! +I can't, I can't say that look well." + +Lucy attributed it to his sense of shame at his conduct, and Mrs. +Berry did her best to look on it in that light. + +"Did the bar'net kiss ye when you wished him good-night?" she +asked. Lucy said he had not. "Then bide awake as long as ye can," +was Mrs. Berry's rejoinder. "And now let us pray blessings on that +simple-speaking gentleman who does so much 'cause he says so +little." + +Like many other natural people, Mrs. Berry was only silly where her +own soft heart was concerned. As she secretly anticipated, the +baronet came into her room when all was quiet. She saw him go and +bend over Richard the Second, and remain earnestly watching him. He +then went to the half-opened door of the room where Lucy slept, +leaned his ear a moment, knocked gently, and entered. Mrs. Berry +heard low words interchanging within. She could not catch a +syllable, yet she would have sworn to the context. "He've called her +his daughter, promised her happiness, and given a father's kiss to +her." When Sir Austin passed out she was in a deep sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +NATURE SPEAKS + + +Briareus reddening angrily over the sea--what is that vaporous +Titan? And Hesper set in his rosy garland--why looks he so +implacably sweet? It is that one has left that bright home to go +forth and do cloudy work, and he has got a stain with which he dare +not return. Far in the West fair Lucy beckons him to come. Ah, +heaven! if he might! How strong and fierce the temptation is! how +subtle the sleepless desire! it drugs his reason, his honour. For he +loves her; she is still the first and only woman to him. Otherwise +would this black spot be hell to him? otherwise would his limbs be +chained while her arms are spread open to him. And if he loves her, +why then what is one fall in the pit, or a thousand? Is not love the +password to that beckoning bliss? So may we say; but here is one +whose body has been made a temple to him, and it is desecrated. + +A temple, and desecrated! For what is it fit for but for a dance of +devils? His education has thus wrought him to think. + +He can blame nothing but his own baseness. But to feel base and +accept the bliss that beckons--he has not fallen so low as that. + +Ah, happy English home! sweet wife! what mad miserable Wisp of the +Fancy led him away from you, high in his conceit? Poor wretch! that +thought to be he of the hundred hands, and war against the absolute +Gods. Jove whispered a light commission to the Laughing Dame; she +met him; and how did he shake Olympus? with laughter? + +Sure it were better to be Orestes, the Furies howling in his ears, +than one called to by a heavenly soul from whom he is for ever +outcast. He has not the oblivion of madness. Clothed in the lights +of his first passion, robed in the splendour of old skies, she meets +him everywhere; morning, evening, night, she shines above him; +waylays him suddenly in forest depths; drops palpably on his heart. +At moments he forgets; he rushes to embrace her; calls her his +beloved, and lo, her innocent kiss brings agony of shame to his +face. + +Daily the struggle endured. His father wrote to him, begging him by +the love he had for him to return. From that hour Richard burnt +unread all the letters he received. He knew too well how easily he +could persuade himself: words from without might tempt him and quite +extinguish the spark of honourable feeling that tortured him, and +that he clung to in desperate self-vindication. + +To arrest young gentlemen on the downward slope is both a dangerous +and thankless office. It is, nevertheless, one that fair women +greatly prize, and certain of them professionally follow. Lady +Judith, as far as her sex would permit, was also of the Titans in +their battle against the absolute Gods; for which purpose, mark you, +she had married a lord incapable in all save his acres. Her +achievements she kept to her own mind: she did not look happy over +them. She met Richard accidentally in Paris; she saw his state; she +let him learn that she alone on earth understood him. The +consequence was that he was forthwith enrolled in her train. It +soothed him to be near a woman. Did she venture her guess as to the +cause of his conduct, she blotted it out with a facility women have, +and cast on it a melancholy hue he was taught to participate in. She +spoke of sorrows, personal sorrows, such as he might speak of +his--vaguely, and with self-blame. And she understood him. How the +dark unfathomed wealth within us gleams to a woman's eye! We are at +compound interest immediately: so much richer than we knew!--almost +as rich as we dreamed! But then the instant we are away from her we +find ourselves bankrupt, beggared. How is that? We do not ask. We +hurry to her and bask hungrily in her orbs. The eye must be feminine +to be thus creative: I cannot say why. Lady Judith understood +Richard, and he feeling infinitely vile, somehow held to her more +feverishly, as one who dreaded the worst in missing her. The spirit +must rest; he was weak with what he suffered. + +Austin found them among the hills of Nassau in Rhineland: Titans, +male and female, who had not displaced Jove, and were now adrift, +prone on floods of sentiment. The blue-frocked peasant swinging +behind his oxen of a morning, the gaily-kerchiefed fruit-woman, the +jackass-driver, even the doctor of those regions, have done more for +their fellows. Horrible reflection! Lady Judith is serene above it, +but it frets at Richard when he is out of her shadow. Often +wretchedly he watches the young men of his own age trooping to their +work. Not cloud-work theirs! Work solid, unambitious, fruitful! + +Lady Judith had a nobler in prospect for the hero. He gaped +blindfolded for anything, and she gave him the map of Europe in +tatters. He swallowed it comfortably. It was an intoxicating +cordial. Himself on horseback over-riding wrecks of Empires! Well +might common sense cower with the meaner animals at the picture. +Tacitly they agreed to recast the civilized globe. The quality of +vapour is to melt and shape itself anew; but it is never the quality +of vapour to reassume the same shapes. Briareus of the hundred +unoccupied hands may turn to a monstrous donkey with his hind legs +aloft, or twenty thousand jabbering apes. The phantasmic groupings +of the young brain are very like those we see in the skies, and +equally the sport of the wind. Lady Judith blew. There was plenty of +vapour in him, and it always resolved into some shape or other. You +that mark those clouds of eventide, and know youth, will see the +similitude: it will not be strange, it will barely seem foolish to +you, that a young man of Richard's age, Richard's education and +position, should be in this wild state. Had he not been nursed to +believe he was born for great things? Did she not say she was sure +of it? And to feel base, yet born for better, is enough to make one +grasp at anything cloudy. Suppose the hero with a game leg. How +intense is his faith in quacks! with what a passion of longing is he +not seized to break somebody's head! They spoke of Italy in low +voices. "The time will come," said she. "And I shall be ready," said +he. What rank was he to take in the liberating army? Captain, +colonel, general in chief, or simple private? Here, as became him, +he was much more positive and specific than she was. Simple private, +he said. Yet he saw himself caracoling on horseback. Private in the +cavalry, then, of course. Private in the cavalry over-riding wrecks +of Empires. She looked forth under her brows with mournful +indistinctness at that object in the distance. They read Petrarch to +get up the necessary fires. Italia mia! Vain indeed was this +speaking to those thick and mortal wounds in her fair body, but +their sighs went with the Tiber, and Arno, and the Po, and their +hands joined. Who has not wept for Italy? I see the aspirations of a +world arise for her, thick and frequent as the puffs of smoke from +cigars of Pannonian sentries! + +So when Austin came Richard said he could not leave Lady Judith, +Lady Judith said she could not part with him. For his sake, mind! +This Richard verified. Perhaps he had reason to be grateful. The +high road of Folly may have led him from one that terminates worse. +He is foolish, God knows; but for my part I will not laugh at the +hero because he has not got his occasion. Meet him when he is, as it +were, anointed by his occasion, and he is no laughing matter. + +Richard felt his safety in this which, to please the world, we must +term folly. Exhalation of vapours was a wholesome process to him, +and somebody who gave them shape and hue a beneficent Iris. He told +Austin plainly he could not leave her, and did not anticipate the +day when he could. + +"Why can't you go to your wife, Richard?" + +"For a reason you would be the first to approve, Austin." + +He welcomed Austin with every show of manly tenderness, and sadness +at heart. Austin he had always associated with his Lucy in that +Hesperian palace of the West. Austin waited patiently. Lady Judith's +old lord played on all the baths in Nassau without evoking the tune +of health. Whithersoever he listed she changed her abode. So +admirable a wife was to be pardoned for espousing an old man. She +was an enthusiast even in her connubial duties. She had the brows of +an enthusiast. With occasion she might have been a Charlotte Corday. +So let her also be shielded from the ban of ridicule. Nonsense of +enthusiasts is very different from nonsense of ninnies. She was +truly a high-minded person, of that order who always do what they +see to be right, and always have confidence in their optics. She was +not unworthy of a young man's admiration, if she was unfit to be his +guide. She resumed her ancient intimacy with Austin easily, while +she preserved her new footing with Richard. She and Austin were not +unlike, only Austin never dreamed, and had not married an old lord. + +The three were walking on the bridge at Limburg on the Lahn, where +the shadow of a stone bishop is thrown by the moonlight on the water +brawling over slabs of slate. A woman passed them bearing in her +arms a baby, whose mighty size drew their attention. + +"What a wopper!" Richard laughed. + +"Well, that is a fine fellow," said Austin, "but I don't think he's +much bigger than your boy." + +"He'll do for a nineteenth-century Arminius," Richard was saying. +Then he looked at Austin. + +"What was that you said?" Lady Judith asked of Austin. + +"What have I said that deserves to be repeated?" Austin +counterqueried quite innocently. + +"Richard has a son?" + +"You didn't know it?" + +"His modesty goes very far," said Lady Judith, sweeping the shadow +of a curtsey to Richard's paternity. + +Richard's heart throbbed with violence. He looked again in Austin's +face. Austin took it so much as a matter of course that he said +nothing more on the subject. + +"Well!" murmured Lady Judith. + +When the two men were alone, Richard said in a quick voice: "Austin! +you were in earnest?" + +"You didn't know it, Richard?" + +"No." + +"Why, they all wrote to you. Lucy wrote to you: your father, your +aunt. I believe Adrian wrote too." + +"I tore up their letters," said Richard. + +"He's a noble fellow, I can tell you. You've nothing to be ashamed +of. He'll soon be coming to ask about you. I made sure you knew." + +"No, I never knew." Richard walked away, and then said: "What is he +like?" + +"Well, he really is like you, but he has his mother's eyes." + +"And she's----" + +"Yes. I think the child has kept her well." + +"They're both at Raynham?" + +"Both." + +Hence fantastic vapours! What are ye to this! Where are the dreams +of the hero when he learns he has a child? Nature is taking him to +her bosom. She will speak presently. Every domesticated boor in +these hills can boast the same, yet marvels the hero at none of his +visioned prodigies as he does when he comes to hear of this most +common performance. A father? Richard fixed his eyes as if he were +trying to make out the lineaments of his child. + +Telling Austin he would be back in a few minutes, he sallied into +the air, and walked on and on. "A father!" he kept repeating to +himself: "a child!" And though he knew it not, he was striking the +key-notes of Nature. But he did know of a singular harmony that +suddenly burst over his whole being. + +The moon was surpassingly bright: the summer air heavy and still. He +left the high road and pierced into the forest. His walk was rapid: +the leaves on the trees brushed his cheeks; the dead leaves heaped +in the dells noised to his feet. Something of a religious joy--a +strange sacred pleasure--was in him. By degrees it wore; he +remembered himself: and now he was possessed by a proportionate +anguish. A father! he dared never see his child. And he had no +longer his phantasies to fall upon. He was utterly bare to his sin. +In his troubled mind it seemed to him that Clare looked down on +him--Clare who saw him as he was; and that to her eyes it would be +infamy for him to go and print his kiss upon his child. Then came +stern efforts to command his misery and make the nerves of his face +iron. + +By the log of an ancient tree half buried in dead leaves of past +summers, beside a brook, he halted as one who had reached his +journey's end. There he discovered he had a companion in Lady +Judith's little dog. He gave the friendly animal a pat of +recognition and both were silent in the forest-silence. + +It was impossible for Richard to return; his heart was surcharged. +He must advance, and on he footed, the little dog following. + +An oppressive slumber hung about the forest-branches. In the dells +and on the heights was the same dead heat. Here where the brook +tinkled it was no cool-lipped sound, but metallic, and without the +spirit of water. Yonder in a space of moonlight on lush grass, the +beams were as white fire to sight and feeling. No haze spread +around. The valleys were clear, defined to the shadows of their +verges; the distances sharply distinct, and with the colours of day +but slightly softened. Richard beheld a roe moving across a slope of +sward far out of rifle-mark. The breathless silence was significant, +yet the moon shone in a broad blue heaven. Tongue out of mouth +trotted the little dog after him; couched panting when he stopped an +instant; rose weariedly when he started afresh. Now and then a large +white night-moth flitted through the dusk of the forest. + +On a barren corner of the wooded highland looking inland stood grey +topless ruins set in nettles and rank grass-blades. Richard +mechanically sat down on the crumbling flints to rest, and listened +to the panting of the dog. Sprinkled at his feet were emerald +lights: hundreds of glow-worms studded the dark dry ground. + +He sat and eyed them, thinking not at all. His energies were +expended in action. He sat as a part of the ruins, and the moon +turned his shadow Westward from the South. Overhead, as she +declined, long ripples of silver cloud were imperceptibly stealing +toward her. They were the van of a tempest. He did not observe them +or the leaves beginning to chatter. When he again pursued his course +with his face to the Rhine, a huge mountain appeared to rise sheer +over him, and he had it in his mind to scale it. He got no nearer to +the base of it for all his vigorous outstepping. The ground began to +dip; he lost sight of the sky. Then heavy thunder-drops struck his +cheek, the leaves were singing, the earth breathed, it was black +before him and behind. All at once the thunder spoke. The mountain +he had marked was bursting over him. + +Up started the whole forest in violet fire. He saw the country at +the foot of the hills to the bounding Rhine gleam, quiver, +extinguished. Then there were pauses; and the lightning seemed as +the eye of heaven, and the thunder as the tongue of heaven, each +alternately addressing him; filling him with awful rapture. Alone +there--sole human creature among the grandeurs and mysteries of +storm--he felt the representative of his kind, and his spirits rose, +and marched, and exulted, let it be glory, let it be ruin! Lower +down the lightened abysses of air rolled the wrathful crash: then +white thrusts of light were darted from the sky, and great curving +ferns, seen steadfast in pallor a second, were supernaturally +agitated, and vanished. Then a shrill song roused in the leaves and +the herbage. Prolonged and louder it sounded, as deeper and heavier +the deluge pressed. A mighty force of water satisfied the desire of +the earth. Even in this, drenched as he was by the first outpouring, +Richard had a savage pleasure. Keeping in motion, he was scarcely +conscious of the wet, and the grateful breath of the weeds was +refreshing. Suddenly he stopped short, lifting a curious nostril. He +fancied he smelt meadow-sweet. He had never seen the flower in +Rhineland--never thought of it; and it would hardly be met with in a +forest. He was sure he smelt it fresh in dews. His little companion +wagged a miserable wet tail some way in advance. He went on slowly, +thinking indistinctly. After two or three steps he stooped and +stretched out his hand to feel for the flower, having, he knew not +why, a strong wish to verify its growth there. Groping about, his +hand encountered something warm that started at his touch, and he, +with the instinct we have, seized it, and lifted it to look at it. +The creature was very small, evidently quite young. Richard's eyes, +now accustomed to the darkness, were able to discern it for what it +was, a tiny leveret, and he supposed that the dog had probably +frightened its dam just before he found it. He put the little thing +on one hand in his breast, and stepped out rapidly as before. + +The rain was now steady; from every tree a fountain poured. So cool +and easy had his mind become that he was speculating on what kind of +shelter the birds could find, and how the butterflies and moths +saved their coloured wings from washing. Folded close they might +hang under a leaf, he thought. Lovingly he looked into the dripping +darkness of the coverts on each side, as one of their children. He +was next musing on a strange sensation he experienced. It ran up one +arm with an indescribable thrill, but communicated nothing to his +heart. It was purely physical, ceased for a time, and recommenced, +till he had it all through his blood, wonderfully thrilling. He grew +aware that the little thing he carried in his breast was licking his +hand there. The small rough tongue going over and over the palm of +his hand produced the strange sensation he felt. Now that he knew +the cause, the marvel ended; but now that he knew the cause, his +heart was touched and made more of it. The gentle scraping continued +without intermission as on he walked. What did it say to him? Human +tongue could not have said so much just then. + +A pale grey light on the skirts of the flying tempest displayed the +dawn. Richard was walking hurriedly. The green drenched weeds lay +all about in his path, bent thick, and the forest drooped +glimmeringly. Impelled as a man who feels a revelation mounting +obscurely to his brain, Richard was passing one of these little +forest-chapels, hung with votive wreaths, where the peasant halts to +kneel and pray. Cold, still, in the twilight it stood, rain-drops +pattering round it. He looked within, and saw the Virgin holding her +Child. He moved by. But not many steps had he gone ere his strength +went out of him, and he shuddered. What was it? He asked not. He was +in other hands. Vivid as lightning the Spirit of Life illumined +him. He felt in his heart the cry of his child, his darling's touch. +With shut eyes he saw them both. They drew him from the depths; they +led him a blind and tottering man. And as they led him he had a +sense of purification so sweet he shuddered again and again. + +When he looked out from his trance on the breathing world, the small +birds hopped and chirped: warm fresh sunlight was over all the +hills. He was on the edge of the forest, entering a plain clothed +with ripe corn under a spacious morning sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +AGAIN THE MAGIAN CONFLICT + + +They heard at Raynham that Richard was coming. Lucy had the news +first in a letter from Ripton Thompson, who met him at Bonn. Ripton +did not say that he had employed his vacation holiday on purpose to +use his efforts to induce his dear friend to return to his wife; and +finding Richard already on his way, of course Ripton said nothing to +him, but affected to be travelling for his pleasure like any +cockney. Richard also wrote to her. In case she should have gone to +the sea he directed her to send word to his hotel that he might not +lose an hour. His letter was sedate in tone, very sweet to her. +Assisted by the faithful female Berry, she was conquering an +Aphorist. + +"Woman's reason is in the milk of her breasts," was one of his rough +notes, due to an observation of Lucy's maternal cares. Let us +remember, therefore, we men who have drunk of it largely there, that +she has it. + +Mrs. Berry zealously apprised him how early Master Richard's +education had commenced, and the great future historian he must +consequently be. This trait in Lucy was of itself sufficient to win +Sir Austin. + +"Here my plan with Richard was false," he reflected: "in presuming +that anything save blind fortuity would bring him such a mate as he +should have." He came to add: "And has got!" + +He could admit now that instinct had so far beaten science; for as +Richard was coming, as all were to be happy, his wisdom embraced +them all paternally as the author of their happiness. Between him +and Lucy a tender intimacy grew. + +"I told you she could talk, sir," said Adrian. + +"She thinks!" said the baronet. + +The delicate question how she was to treat her uncle, he settled +generously. Farmer Blaize should come up to Raynham when he would: +Lucy must visit him at least three times a week. He had Farmer +Blaize and Mrs. Berry to study, and really excellent Aphorisms +sprang from the plain human bases this natural couple presented. + +"It will do us no harm," he thought, "some of the honest blood of +the soil in our veins." And he was content in musing on the +parentage of the little cradled boy. A common sight for those who +had the entry to the library was the baronet cherishing the hand of +his daughter-in-law. + +So Richard was crossing the sea, and hearts at Raynham were beating +quicker measures as the minutes progressed. That night he would be +with them. Sir Austin gave Lucy a longer, warmer salute when she +came down to breakfast in the morning. Mrs. Berry waxed thrice +amorous. "It's your second bridals, ye sweet livin' widow!" she +said. "Thanks be the Lord! it's the same man too! and a baby over +the bed-post," she appended seriously. + +"Strange," Berry declared it to be, "strange I feel none o' this to +my Berry now. All my feelin's o' love seem t'ave gone into you two +sweet chicks." + +In fact, the faithless male Berry complained of being treated badly, +and affected a superb jealousy of the baby; but the good dame told +him that if he suffered at all he suffered his due. Berry's position +was decidedly uncomfortable. It could not be concealed from the +lower household that he had a wife in the establishment, and for the +complications this gave rise to, his wife would not legitimately +console him. Lucy did intercede, but Mrs. Berry was obdurate. She +averred she would not give up the child till he was weaned. "Then, +perhaps," she said prospectively. "You see I ain't so soft as you +thought for." + +"You're a very unkind, vindictive old woman," said Lucy. + +"Belike I am," Mrs. Berry was proud to agree. We like a new +character, now and then. Berry had delayed too long. + +Were it not notorious that the straightlaced prudish dare not listen +to the natural chaste, certain things Mrs. Berry thought it +advisable to impart to the young wife with regard to Berry's +infidelity, and the charity women should have towards sinful men, +might here be reproduced. Enough that she thought proper to broach +the matter, and cite her own Christian sentiments, now that she was +indifferent in some degree. + +Oily calm is on the sea. At Raynham they look up at the sky and +speculate that Richard is approaching fairly speeded. He comes to +throw himself on his darling's mercy. Lucy irradiated over forest +and sea, tempest and peace--to her the hero comes humbly. Great is +that day when we see our folly! Ripton and he were the friends of +old. Richard encouraged him to talk of the two he could be eloquent +on, and Ripton, whose secret vanity was in his powers of speech, +never tired of enumerating Lucy's virtues, and the peculiar +attributes of the baby. + +"She did not say a word against me, Rip?" + +"Against you, Richard! The moment she knew she was to be a mother, +she thought of nothing but her duty to the child. She's one who +can't think of herself." + +"You've seen her at Raynham, Rip?" + +"Yes, once. They asked me down. And your father's so fond of +her--I'm sure he thinks no woman like her, and he's right. She is so +lovely, and so good." + +Richard was too full of blame of himself to blame his father: too +British to expose his emotions. Ripton divined how deep and changed +they were by his manner. He had cast aside the hero, and however +Ripton had obeyed him and looked up to him in the heroic time, he +loved him tenfold now. He told his friend how much Lucy's mere +womanly sweetness and excellence had done for him, and Richard +contrasted his own profitless extravagance with the patient beauty +of his dear home angel. He was not one to take her on the easy terms +that offered. There was that to do which made his cheek burn as he +thought of it, but he was going to do it, even though it lost her to +him. Just to see her and kneel to her was joy sufficient to sustain +him, and warm his blood in the prospect. They marked the white +cliffs growing over the water. Nearer, the sun made them lustrous. +Houses and people seemed to welcome the wild youth to common sense, +simplicity, and home. + +They were in town by mid-day. Richard had a momentary idea of not +driving to his hotel for letters. After a short debate he determined +to go there. The porter said he had two letters for Mr. Richard +Feverel--one had been waiting some time. He went to the box and +fetched them. The first Richard opened was from Lucy, and as he read +it, Ripton observed the colour deepen on his face, while a quivering +smile played about his mouth. He opened the other indifferently. It +began without any form of address. Richard's forehead darkened at +the signature. This letter was in a sloping feminine hand, and +flourished with light strokes all over, like a field of the bearded +barley. Thus it ran: + + "I know you are in a rage with me because I would not consent + to ruin you, you foolish fellow. What do you call it? Going to + that unpleasant place together. Thank you, my milliner is not + ready yet, and I want to make a good appearance when I do go. I + suppose I shall have to some day. Your health, Sir Richard. Now + let me speak to you seriously. _Go home to your wife at once._ + But I know the sort of fellow you are, and I must be plain with + you. Did I ever say I loved you? You may hate me as much as you + please, but I will save you from being a fool. + + "Now listen to me. You know my relations with Mount. _That + beast Brayder_ offered to pay all my debts and set me afloat, + if I would keep you in town. I declare on my honour I had no + idea why, and I did not agree to it. But you were such a + handsome fellow--I noticed you in the park before I heard a + word of you. But then you fought shy--you were just as tempting + as a girl. You _stung_ me. Do you know what that is? I would + make you care for me, and we know how it ended, without any + intention of mine, I _swear_. I'd have cut off my hand rather + than do you any harm, upon my honour. Circumstances! Then I saw + it was all up between us. Brayder came and began to chaff about + you. I dealt the animal a stroke on the face with my + riding-whip--I shut him up pretty quick. Do you think I would + let a man speak about you?--I was going to swear. You see I + remember Dick's lessons. O my God! I do feel unhappy.--Brayder + offered me money. Go and think I took it, if you like. What do + I care what anybody thinks! Something that blackguard said made + me suspicious. I went down to the Isle of Wight where Mount + was, and your wife was just gone with an old lady who came and + took her away. I should so have liked to see her. You said, you + remember, she would take me as a sister, and treat me--I + laughed at it then. My God! how I could cry now, if water did + any good to a _devil_, as you politely call poor me. I called + at your house and saw your man-servant, who said Mount had just + been there. In a minute it struck me. I was sure Mount was + after a woman, but it never struck me that woman was your wife. + Then I saw why they wanted me to keep you away. I went to + Brayder. You know how I hate him. I made love to the man to get + it out of him. Richard! my word of honour, they have planned to + carry her off, if Mount finds he cannot seduce her. Talk of + devils! He's one; but he is not so bad as Brayder. I cannot + forgive a mean dog his villainy. + + "Now after this, I am quite sure you are too much of a man to + stop away from her another moment. I have no more to say. I + suppose we shall not see each other again, so good-bye, Dick! I + fancy I hear you cursing me. Why can't you feel like other men + on the subject? But if you were like the rest of them I should + not have cared for you a farthing. I have not worn lilac since + I saw you last. I'll be buried in your colour, Dick. That will + not offend you--will it? + + "You are not going to believe I took the money? If I thought + you thought that--it makes me _feel_ like a devil only to fancy + you think it. + + "The first time you meet Brayder, _cane him publicly_. + + "Adieu! Say it's because you don't like his face. I suppose + devils must not say _Adieu_. Here's plain old good-bye, then, + between you and me. Good-bye, dear Dick! You won't think that + of me? + + "May I eat dry bread to the day of my death if I took or ever + will touch a scrap of their money. + + BELLA." + +Richard folded up the letter silently. + +"Jump into the cab," he said to Ripton. + +"Anything the matter, Richard?" + +"No." + +The driver received instructions. Richard sat without speaking. His +friend knew that face. He asked whether there was bad news in the +letter. For answer, he had the lie circumstantial. He ventured to +remark that they were going the wrong way. + +"It's the right way," cried Richard, and his jaws were hard and +square, and his eyes looked heavy and full. + +Ripton said no more, but thought. + +The cabman pulled up at a Club. A gentleman, in whom Ripton +recognized the Hon. Peter Brayder, was just then swinging a leg over +his horse, with one foot in the stirrup. Hearing his name called, +the Hon. Peter turned about, and stretched an affable hand. + +"Is Mountfalcon in town?" said Richard, taking the horse's reins +instead of the gentlemanly hand. His voice and aspect were quite +friendly. + +"Mount?" Brayder replied, curiously watching the action; "yes. He's +off this evening." + +"He _is_ in town?" Richard released his horse. "I want to see him. +Where is he?" + +The young man looked pleasant: that which might have aroused +Brayder's suspicions was an old affair in parasitical register by +this time. "Want to see him? What about?" he said carelessly, and +gave the address. + +"By the way," he sang out, "we thought of putting your name down, +Feverel." He indicated the lofty structure. "What do you say?" + +Richard nodded back at him, crying, "Hurry." Brayder returned the +nod, and those who promenaded the district soon beheld his body in +elegant motion to the stepping of his well-earned horse. + +"What do you want to see Lord Mountfalcon for, Richard?" said +Ripton. + +"I just want to see him," Richard replied. + +Ripton was left in the cab at the door of my lord's residence. He +had to wait there a space of about ten minutes, when Richard +returned with a clearer visage, though somewhat heated. He stood +outside the cab, and Ripton was conscious of being examined by those +strong grey eyes. As clear as speech he understood them to say to +him, "You won't do," but which of the many things on earth he would +not do for he was at a loss to think. + +"Go down to Raynham, Ripton. Say I shall be there to-night +certainly. Don't bother me with questions. Drive off at once. Or +wait. Get another cab. I'll take this." + +Ripton was ejected, and found himself standing alone in the street. +As he was on the point of rushing after the galloping cab-horse to +get a word of elucidation, he heard some one speak behind him. + +"You are Feverel's friend?" + +Ripton had an eye for lords. An ambrosial footman, standing at the +open door of Lord Mountfalcon's house, and a gentleman standing on +the door-step, told him that he was addressed by that nobleman. He +was requested to step into the house. When they were alone, Lord +Mountfalcon, slightly ruffled, said: "Feverel has insulted me +grossly. I must meet him, of course. It's a piece of infernal +folly!--I suppose he is not quite mad?" + +Ripton's only definite answer was a gasping iteration of "My lord." + +My lord resumed: "I am perfectly guiltless of offending him, as far +as I know. In fact, I had a friendship for him. Is he liable to fits +of this sort of thing?" + +Not yet at conversation-point, Ripton stammered: "Fits, my lord?" + +"Ah!" went the other, eying Ripton in lordly cognizant style. "You +know nothing of this business, perhaps!" + +Ripton said he did not. + +"Have you any influence with him?" + +"Not much, my lord. Only now and then--a little." + +"You are not in the Army?" + +The question was quite unnecessary. Ripton confessed to the law, and +my lord did not look surprised. + +"I will not detain you," he said, distantly bowing. + +Ripton gave him a commoner's obeisance; but getting to the door, the +sense of the matter enlightened him. + +"It's a duel, my lord?" + +"No help for it, if his friends don't shut him up in Bedlam between +this and to-morrow morning." + +Of all horrible things a duel was the worst in Ripton's imagination. +He stood holding the handle of the door, revolving this last chapter +of calamity suddenly opened where happiness had promised. + +"A duel! but he won't, my lord,--he mustn't fight, my lord." + +"He must come on the ground," said my lord, positively. + +Ripton ejaculated unintelligible stuff. Finally Lord Mountfalcon +said: "I went out of my way, sir, in speaking to you. I saw you from +the window. Your friend is mad. Deuced methodical, I admit, but mad. +I have particular reasons to wish not to injure the young man, and +if an apology is to be got out of him when we're on the ground, I'll +take it, and we'll stop the damned scandal, if possible. You +understand? I'm the insulted party, and I shall only require of him +to use formal words of excuse to come to an amicable settlement. Let +him just say he regrets it. Now, sir," the nobleman spoke with +considerable earnestness, "should anything happen--I have the honour +to be known to Mrs. Feverel--and I beg you will tell her. I very +particularly desire you to let her know that I was not to blame." + +Mountfalcon rang the bell, and bowed him out. With this on his mind +Ripton hurried down to those who were waiting in joyful trust at +Raynham. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +THE LAST SCENE + + +The watch consulted by Hippias alternately with his pulse, in occult +calculation hideous to mark, said half-past eleven on the midnight. +Adrian, wearing a composedly amused expression on his dimpled plump +face,--held slightly sideways, aloof from paper and pen,--sat +writing at the library table. Round the baronet's chair, in a +semi-circle, were Lucy, Lady Blandish, Mrs. Doria, and Ripton, that +very ill bird at Raynham. They were silent as those who question the +flying minutes. Ripton had said that Richard was sure to come; but +the feminine eyes reading him ever and anon, had gathered matter for +disquietude, which increased as time sped. Sir Austin persisted in +his habitual air of speculative repose. + +Remote as he appeared from vulgar anxiety, he was the first to speak +and betray his state. + +"Pray, put up that watch. Impatience serves nothing," he said, +half-turning hastily to his brother behind him. + +Hippias relinquished his pulse and mildly groaned: "It's no +nightmare, this!" + +His remark was unheard, and the bearing of it remained obscure. +Adrian's pen made a louder flourish on his manuscript; whether in +commiseration or infernal glee, none might say. + +"What are you writing?" the baronet inquired testily of Adrian, +after a pause; twitched, it may be, by a sort of jealousy of the +wise youth's coolness. + +"Do I disturb you, sir?" rejoined Adrian. "I am engaged on a portion +of a Proposal for uniting the Empires and Kingdoms of Europe under +one Paternal Head, on the model of the ever-to-be-admired and +lamented Holy Roman. This treats of the management of Youths and +Maids, and of certain magisterial functions connected therewith. 'It +is decreed that these officers be all and every men of science,' +etc." And Adrian cheerily drove his pen afresh. + +Mrs. Doria took Lucy's hand, mutely addressing encouragement to +her, and Lucy brought as much of a smile as she could command to +reply with. + +"I fear we must give him up to-night," observed Lady Blandish. + +"If he said he would come, he will come," Sir Austin interjected. +Between him and the lady there was something of a contest secretly +going on. He was conscious that nothing save perfect success would +now hold this self-emancipating mind. She had seen him through. + +"He declared to me he would be certain to come," said Ripton; but he +could look at none of them as he said it, for he was growing aware +that Richard might have deceived him, and was feeling like a black +conspirator against their happiness. He determined to tell the +baronet what he knew, if Richard did not come by twelve. + +"What is the time?" he asked Hippias in a modest voice. + +"Time for me to be in bed," growled Hippias, as if everybody present +had been treating him badly. + +Mrs. Berry came in to apprise Lucy that she was wanted above. She +quietly rose. Sir Austin kissed her on the forehead, saying: "You +had better not come down again, my child." She kept her eyes on him. +"Oblige me by retiring for the night," he added. Lucy shook their +hands, and went out, accompanied by Mrs. Doria. + +"This agitation will be bad for the child," he said, speaking to +himself aloud. + +Lady Blandish remarked: "I think she might just as well have +returned. She will not sleep." + +"She will control herself for the child's sake." + +"You ask too much of her." + +"Of her, not," he emphasized. + +It was twelve o'clock when Hippias shut his watch, and said with +vehemence: "I'm convinced my circulation gradually and steadily +decreases!" + +"Going back to the pre-Harvey period?" murmured Adrian as he wrote. + +Sir Austin and Lady Blandish knew well that any comment would +introduce them to the interior of his machinery, the external view +of which was sufficiently harrowing; so they maintained a discreet +reserve. Taking it for acquiescence in his deplorable condition, +Hippias resumed despairingly: "It's a fact. I've brought you to see +that. No one can be more moderate than I am, and yet I get worse. +My system is organically sound--I believe: I do every possible +thing, and yet I get worse. Nature never forgives! I'll go to bed." + +The Dyspepsy departed unconsoled. + +Sir Austin took up his brother's thought: "I suppose nothing short +of a miracle helps us when we have offended her." + +"Nothing short of a quack satisfies us," said Adrian, applying wax +to an envelope of official dimensions. + +Ripton sat accusing his soul of cowardice while they talked; haunted +by Lucy's last look at him. He got up his courage presently and went +round to Adrian, who, after a few whispered words, deliberately rose +and accompanied him out of the room, shrugging. When they had gone, +Lady Blandish said to the baronet: "He is not coming." + +"To-morrow, then, if not to-night," he replied. "But I say he will +come to-night." + +"You do really wish to see him united to his wife?" + +The question made the baronet raise his brows with some displeasure. + +"Can you ask me?" + +"I mean," said the ungenerous woman, "your System will require no +further sacrifices from either of them?" + +When he did answer, it was to say: "I think her altogether a +superior person. I confess I should scarcely have hoped to find one +like her." + +"Admit that your science does not accomplish everything." + +"No: it was presumptuous--beyond a certain point," said the baronet, +meaning deep things. + +Lady Blandish eyed him. "Ah me!" she sighed, "if we would always be +true to our own wisdom!" + +"You are very singular to-night, Emmeline," Sir Austin stopped his +walk in front of her. + +In truth, was she not unjust? Here was an offending son freely +forgiven. Here was a young woman of humble birth freely accepted +into his family and permitted to stand upon her qualities. Who would +have done more--or as much? This lady, for instance, had the case +been hers, would have fought it. All the people of position that he +was acquainted with would have fought it, and that without feeling +it so peculiarly. But while the baronet thought this, he did not +think of the exceptional education his son had received. He took the +common ground of fathers, forgetting his System when it was +absolutely on trial. False to his son it could not be said that he +had been: false to his System he was. Others saw it plainly, but he +had to learn his lesson by and by. + +Lady Blandish gave him her face; then stretched her hand to the +table, saying, "Well! well!" She fingered a half-opened parcel lying +there, and drew forth a little book she recognized. "Ha! what is +this?" she said. + +"Benson returned it this morning," he informed her. "The stupid +fellow took it away with him--by mischance, I am bound to believe." + +It was nothing other than the old Note-book. Lady Blandish turned +over the leaves, and came upon the later jottings. + +She read: "A maker of Proverbs--what is he but a narrow mind with +the mouthpiece of narrower?" + +"I do not agree with that," she observed. He was in no humour for +argument. + +"Was your humility feigned when you wrote it?" + +He merely said: "Consider the sort of minds influenced by set +sayings. A proverb is the half-way-house to an Idea, I conceive; and +the majority rest there content: can the keeper of such a house be +flattered by his company?" + +She felt her feminine intelligence swaying under him again. There +must be greatness in a man who could thus speak of his own special +and admirable aptitude. + +Further she read, "Which is the coward among us?--_He who sneers at +the failings of Humanity!_" + +"Oh! that is true! How much I admire that!" cried the dark-eyed dame +as she beamed intellectual raptures. + +Another Aphorism seemed closely to apply to him: "There is no more +grievous sight, as there is no greater perversion, than a wise man +at the mercy of his feelings." + +"He must have written it," she thought, "when he had himself for an +example--strange man that he is!" + +Lady Blandish was still inclined to submission, though decidedly +insubordinate. She had once been fairly conquered: but if what she +reverenced as a great mind could conquer her, it must be a great man +that should hold her captive. The Autumn Primrose blooms for the +loftiest manhood; is a vindictive flower in lesser hands. +Nevertheless Sir Austin had only to be successful, and this lady's +allegiance was his for ever. The trial was at hand. + +She said again: "He is not coming to-night," and the baronet, on +whose visage a contemplative pleased look had been rising for a +minute past, quietly added: "He is come." + +Richard's voice was heard in the hall. + +There was commotion all over the house at the return of the young +heir. Berry, seizing every possible occasion to approach his Bessy +now that her involuntary coldness had enhanced her value--"Such is +men!" as the soft woman reflected--Berry ascended to her and +delivered the news in pompous tones and wheedling gestures. "The +best word you've spoke for many a day," says she, and leaves him +unfee'd, in an attitude, to hurry and pour bliss into Lucy's ears. + +"Lord be praised!" she entered the adjoining room exclaiming, "we're +goin' to be happy at last. They men have come to their senses. I +could cry to your Virgin and kiss your Cross, you sweet!" + +"Hush!" Lucy admonished her, and crooned over the child on her +knees. The tiny open hands, full of sleep, clutched; the large blue +eyes started awake; and his mother, all trembling and palpitating, +knowing, but thirsting to hear it, covered him with her tresses, and +tried to still her frame, and rocked, and sang low, interdicting +even a whisper from bursting Mrs. Berry. + +Richard had come. He was under his father's roof, in the old home +that had so soon grown foreign to him. He stood close to his wife +and child. He might embrace them both; and now the fulness of his +anguish and the madness of the thing he had done smote the young +man: now first he tasted hard earthly misery. + +Had not God spoken to him in the tempest? Had not the finger of +heaven directed him homeward? And he had come: here he stood: +congratulations were thick in his ears: the cup of happiness was +held to him, and he was invited to drink of it. Which was the dream? +his work for the morrow, or this? But for a leaden load that he felt +like a bullet in his breast, he might have thought the morrow with +death sitting on it was the dream. Yes; he was awake. Now first the +cloud of phantasms cleared away: he beheld his real life, and the +colours of true human joy: and on the morrow perhaps he was to close +his eyes on them. That leaden bullet dispersed all unrealities. + +They stood about him in the hall, his father, Lady Blandish, Mrs. +Doria, Adrian, Ripton; people who had known him long. They shook his +hand: they gave him greetings he had never before understood the +worth of or the meaning. Now that he did they mocked him. There was +Mrs. Berry in the background bobbing, there was Martin Berry bowing, +there was Tom Bakewell grinning. Somehow he loved the sight of these +better. + +"Ah, my old Penelope!" he said, breaking through the circle of his +relatives to go to her. "Tom! how are you?" + +"Bless ye, my Mr. Richard," whimpered Mrs. Berry, and whispered +rosily, "all's agreeable now. She's waiting up in bed for ye, like a +new-born." + +The person who betrayed most agitation was Mrs. Doria. She held +close to him, and eagerly studied his face and every movement, as +one accustomed to masks. "You are pale, Richard?" He pleaded +exhaustion. "What detained you, dear?" "Business," he said. She drew +him imperiously apart from the others. "Richard! is it over?" He +asked what she meant. "The dreadful duel, Richard." He looked +darkly. "Is it over? is it done, Richard?" Getting no immediate +answer, she continued--and such was her agitation that the words +were shaken by pieces from her mouth: "Don't pretend not to +understand me, Richard! Is it over? Are you going to die the death +of my child--Clare's death? Is not one in a family enough? Think of +your dear young wife--we love her so!--your child!--your father! +Will you kill us all?" + +Mrs. Doria had chanced to overhear a trifle of Ripton's +communication to Adrian, and had built thereon with the dark forces +of a stricken soul. + +Wondering how this woman could have divined it, Richard calmly said: +"It's arranged--the matter you allude to." + +"Indeed! truly, dear?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell me"--but he broke away from her, saying: "You shall hear the +particulars to-morrow," and she, not alive to double meaning just +then, allowed him to leave her. + +He had eaten nothing for twelve hours, and called for food, but he +would take only dry bread and claret, which was served on a tray in +the library. He said, without any show of feeling, that he must eat +before he saw the younger hope of Raynham: so there he sat, breaking +bread, and eating great mouthfuls, and washing them down with wine, +talking of what they would. His father's studious mind felt itself +years behind him, he was so completely altered. He had the precision +of speech, the bearing of a man of thirty. Indeed he had all that +the necessity for cloaking an infinite misery gives. But let things +be as they might he was _there_. For one night in his life Sir +Austin's perspective of the future was bounded by the night. + +"Will you go to your wife now?" he had asked, and Richard had +replied with a strange indifference. The baronet thought it better +that their meeting should be private, and sent word for Lucy to wait +upstairs. The others perceived that father and son should now be +left alone. Adrian went up to him, and said: "I can no longer +witness this painful sight, so Good-night, Sir Famish! You may cheat +yourself into the belief that you've made a meal, but depend upon it +your progeny--and it threatens to be numerous--will cry aloud and +rue the day. Nature never forgives! A lost dinner can never be +replaced! Good-night, my dear boy. And here--oblige me by taking +this," he handed Richard the enormous envelope containing what he +had written that evening. "Credentials!" he exclaimed humorously, +slapping Richard on the shoulder. Ripton heard also the words +"propagator--species," but had no idea of their import. The wise +youth looked: You see we've made matters all right for you here, and +quitted the room on that unusual gleam of earnestness. + +Richard shook his hand, and Ripton's. Then Lady Blandish said her +good-night, praising Lucy, and promising to pray for their mutual +happiness. The two men who knew what was hanging over him, spoke +together outside. Ripton was for getting a positive assurance that +the duel would not be fought, but Adrian said: "Time enough +to-morrow. He's safe enough while he's here. I'll stop it +to-morrow:" ending with banter of Ripton and allusions to his +adventures with Miss Random, which must, Adrian said, have led him +into many affairs of the sort. Certainly Richard was there, and +while he was there he must be safe. So thought Ripton, and went to +his bed. Mrs. Doria deliberated likewise, and likewise thought him +safe while he was there. For once in her life she thought it better +not to trust to her instinct, for fear of useless disturbance where +peace should be. So she said not a syllable of it to her brother. +She only looked more deeply into Richard's eyes, as she kissed him, +praising Lucy. "I have found a second daughter in her, dear. Oh! may +you both be happy!" + +They all praised Lucy, now. His father commenced the moment they +were alone. "Poor Helen! Your wife has been a great comfort to her, +Richard. I think Helen must have sunk without her. So lovely a young +person, possessing mental faculty, and a conscience for her duties, +I have never before met." + +He wished to gratify his son by these eulogies of Lucy, and some +hours back he would have succeeded. Now it had the contrary effect. + +"You compliment me on my choice, sir?" + +Richard spoke sedately, but the irony was perceptible, and he could +speak no other way, his bitterness was so intense. + +"I think you very fortunate," said his father. + +Sensitive to tone and manner as he was, his ebullition of paternal +feeling was frozen. Richard did not approach him. He leaned against +the chimney-piece, glancing at the floor, and lifting his eyes only +when he spoke. Fortunate! very fortunate! As he revolved his later +history, and remembered how clearly he had seen that his father must +love Lucy if he but knew her, and remembered his efforts to persuade +her to come with him, a sting of miserable rage blackened his brain. +But could he blame that gentle soul? Whom could he blame? Himself? +Not utterly. His father? Yes, and no. The blame was here, the blame +was there: it was everywhere and nowhere, and the young man cast it +on the Fates, and looked angrily at heaven, and grew reckless. + +"Richard," said his father, coming close to him, "It is late +to-night. I do not wish Lucy to remain in expectation longer, or I +should have explained myself to you thoroughly, and I think--or at +least hope--you would have justified me. I had cause to believe that +you had not only violated my confidence, but grossly deceived me. It +was not so, I now know. I was mistaken. Much of our misunderstanding +has resulted from that mistake. But you were married--a boy: you +knew nothing of the world, little of yourself. To save you in +after-life--for there is a period when mature men and women who have +married young are more impelled to temptation than in youth,--though +not so exposed to it,--to save you, I say, I decreed that you should +experience self-denial and learn something of your fellows of both +sexes, before settling into a state that must have been otherwise +precarious, however excellent the woman who is your mate. My System +with you would have been otherwise imperfect, and you would have +felt the effects of it. It is over now. You are a man. The dangers +to which your nature was open are, I trust, at an end. I wish you to +be happy, and I give you both my blessing, and pray God to conduct +and strengthen you both." + +Sir Austin's mind was unconscious of not having spoken devoutly. +True or not, his words were idle to his son: his talk of dangers +over, and happiness, mockery. + +Richard coldly took his father's extended hand. + +"We will go to her," said the baronet. "I will leave you at her +door." + +Not moving: looking fixedly at his father with a hard face on which +the colour rushed, Richard said: "A husband who has been unfaithful +to his wife may go to her there, sir?" + +It was horrible, it was cruel: Richard knew that. He wanted no +advice on such a matter, having fully resolved what to do. Yesterday +he would have listened to his father, and blamed himself alone, and +done what was to be done humbly before God and her: now in the +recklessness of his misery he had as little pity for any other soul +as for his own. Sir Austin's brows were deep drawn down. + +"What did you say, Richard?" + +Clearly his intelligence had taken it, but this--the worst he could +hear--this that he had dreaded once and doubted, and smoothed over, +and cast aside--could it be? + +Richard said: "I told you all but the very words when we last +parted. What else do you think would have kept me from her?" + +Angered at his callous aspect, his father cried: "What brings you to +her now?" + +"That will be between us two," was the reply. + +Sir Austin fell into his chair. Meditation was impossible. He spoke +from a wrathful heart: "You will not dare to take her without"---- + +"No, sir," Richard interrupted him, "I shall not. Have no fear." + +"Then you did not love your wife?" + +"Did I not?" A smile passed faintly over Richard's face. + +"Did you care so much for this--this other person?" + +"So much? If you ask me whether I had affection for her, I can say I +had none." + +O base human nature! Then how? then why? A thousand questions rose +in the baronet's mind. Bessy Berry could have answered them every +one. + +"Poor child! poor child!" he apostrophized Lucy, pacing the room. +Thinking of her, knowing her deep love for his son--her true +forgiving heart--it seemed she should be spared this misery. + +He proposed to Richard to spare her. Vast is the distinction between +women and men in this one sin, he said, and supported it with +physical and moral citations. His argument carried him so far, that +to hear him one would have imagined he thought the sin in men small +indeed. His words were idle. + +"She must know it," said Richard, sternly. "I will go to her now, +sir, if you please." + +Sir Austin detained him, expostulated, contradicted himself, +confounded his principles, made nonsense of all his theories. He +could not induce his son to waver in his resolve. Ultimately, their +good-night being interchanged, he understood that the happiness of +Raynham depended on Lucy's mercy. He had no fears of her sweet +heart, but it was a strange thing to have come to. On which should +the accusation fall--on science, or on human nature? + +He remained in the library pondering over the question, at times +breathing contempt for his son, and again seized with unwonted +suspicion of his own wisdom: troubled, much to be pitied, even if he +deserved that blow from his son which had plunged him into +wretchedness. + +Richard went straight to Tom Bakewell, roused the heavy sleeper, and +told him to have his mare saddled and waiting at the park gates East +within an hour. Tom's nearest approach to a hero was to be a +faithful slave to his master, and in doing this he acted to his +conception of that high and glorious character. He got up and +heroically dashed his head into cold water. "She shall be ready, +sir," he nodded. + +"Tom! if you don't see me back here at Raynham, your money will go +on being paid to you." + +"Rather see you than the money, Mr. Richard," said Tom. + +"And you will always watch and see no harm comes to her, Tom." + +"Mrs. Richard, sir?" Tom stared. "God bless me, Mr. Richard"---- + +"No questions. You'll do what I say." + +"Ay, sir; that I will. Did'n Isle o' Wight." + +The very name of the Island shocked Richard's blood, and he had to +walk up and down before he could knock at Lucy's door. That infamous +conspiracy to which he owed his degradation and misery scarce left +him the feelings of a man when he thought of it. + +The soft beloved voice responded to his knock. He opened the door, +and stood before her. Lucy was half-way toward him. In the moment +that passed ere she was in his arms, he had time to observe the +change in her. He had left her a girl: he beheld a woman--a blooming +woman: for pale at first, no sooner did she see him than the colour +was rich and deep on her face and neck and bosom half shown through +the loose dressing-robe, and the sense of her exceeding beauty made +his heart thump and his eyes swim. + +"My darling!" each cried, and they clung together, and her mouth was +fastened on his. + +They spoke no more. His soul was drowned in her kiss. Supporting +her, whose strength was gone, he, almost as weak as she, hung over +her, and clasped her closer, closer, till they were as one body, and +in the oblivion her lips put upon him he was free to the bliss of +her embrace. Heaven granted him that. He placed her in a chair and +knelt at her feet with both arms around her. Her bosom heaved; her +eyes never quitted him: their light as the light on a rolling wave. +This young creature, commonly so frank and straightforward, was +broken with bashfulness in her husband's arms--womanly bashfulness +on the torrent of womanly love; tenfold more seductive than the +bashfulness of girlhood. Terrible tenfold the loss of her seemed +now, as distantly--far on the horizon of memory--the fatal truth +returned to him. + +Lose her? lose this? He looked up as if to ask God to confirm it. + +The same sweet blue eyes! the eyes that he had often seen in the +dying glories of evening; on him they dwelt, shifting, and +fluttering, and glittering, but constant: the light of them as the +light on a rolling wave. + +And true to him! true, good, glorious, as the angels of heaven! And +his she was! a woman--his wife! The temptation to take her, and be +dumb, was all powerful: the wish to die against her bosom so strong +as to be the prayer of his vital forces. Again he strained her to +him, but this time it was as a robber grasps priceless treasure--with +exultation and defiance. One instant of this. Lucy, whose pure +tenderness had now surmounted the first wild passion of their +meeting, bent back her head from her surrendered body, and said +almost voicelessly, her underlids wistfully quivering: "Come and +see him--baby;" and then in great hope of the happiness she was +going to give her husband, and share with him, and in tremour and +doubt of what his feelings would be, she blushed, and her brows +worked: she tried to throw off the strangeness of a year of +separation, misunderstanding, and uncertainty. + +"Darling! come and see him. He is here." She spoke more clearly, +though no louder. + +Richard had released her, and she took his hand, and he suffered +himself to be led to the other side of the bed. His heart began +rapidly throbbing at the sight of a little rosy-curtained cot +covered with lace like milky summer cloud. + +It seemed to him he would lose his manhood if he looked on that +child's face. + +"Stop!" he cried suddenly. + +Lucy turned first to him, and then to her infant, fearing it should +have been disturbed. + +"Lucy, come back." + +"What is it, darling?" said she, in alarm at his voice and the grip +he had unwittingly given her hand. + +O God! what an Ordeal was this! that to-morrow he must face death, +perhaps die and be torn from his darling--his wife and his child; +and that ere he went forth, ere he could dare to see his child and +lean his head reproachfully on his young wife's breast--for the last +time, it might be--he must stab her to the heart, shatter the image +she held of him. + +"Lucy!" She saw him wrenched with agony, and her own face took the +whiteness of his--she bending forward to him, all her faculties +strung to hearing. + +He held her two hands that she might look on him and not spare the +horrible wounds he was going to lay open to her eyes. + +"Lucy. Do you know why I came to you to-night?" + +She moved her lips repeating his words. + +"Lucy. Have you guessed why I did not come before?" + +Her head shook widened eyes. + +"Lucy. I did not come because I was not worthy of my wife! Do you +understand?" + +"Darling," she faltered plaintively, and hung crouching under him, +"what have I done to make you angry with me?" + +"O beloved!" cried he, the tears bursting out of his eyes. "O +beloved!" was all he could say, kissing her hands passionately. + +She waited, reassured, but in terror. + +"Lucy. I stayed away from you--I could not come to you, because ... +I dared not come to you, my wife, my beloved! I could not come +because I was a coward: because--hear me--this was the reason: I +have broken my marriage oath." + +Again her lips moved. She caught at a dim fleshless meaning in +them. "But you love me? Richard! My husband! you love me?" + +"Yes. I have never loved, I never shall love, woman but you." + +"Darling! Kiss me." + +"Have you understood what I have told you?" + +"Kiss me," she said. + +He did not join lips. "I have come to you to-night to ask your +forgiveness." + +Her answer was: "Kiss me." + +"Can you forgive a man so base?" + +"But you love me, Richard?" + +"Yes: that I can say before God. I love you, and I have betrayed +you, and am unworthy of you--not worthy to touch your hand, to kneel +at your feet, to breathe the same air with you." + +Her eyes shone brilliantly. "You love me! you love me, darling!" And +as one who has sailed through dark fears into daylight, she said: +"My husband! my darling! you will never leave me? We never shall be +parted again?" + +He drew his breath painfully. To smooth her face growing rigid with +fresh fears of his silence, he met her mouth. That kiss in which she +spoke what her soul had to say, calmed her, and she smiled happily +from it, and in her manner reminded him of his first vision of her +on the summer morning in the field of the meadow-sweet. He held her +to him, and thought then of a holier picture: of Mother and Child: +of the sweet wonders of the life she had made real to him. + +Had he not absolved his conscience? At least the pangs to come made +him think so. He now followed her leading hand. Lucy whispered: "You +mustn't disturb him--mustn't touch him, dear!" and with dainty +fingers drew off the covering to the little shoulder. One arm of the +child was out along the pillow; the small hand open. His baby-mouth +was pouted full; the dark lashes of his eyes seemed to lie on his +plump cheeks. Richard stooped lower down to him, hungering for some +movement as a sign that he lived. Lucy whispered. "He sleeps like +you, Richard--one arm under his head." Great wonder, and the stir of +a grasping tenderness was in Richard. He breathed quick and soft, +bending lower, till Lucy's curls, as she nestled and bent with him, +rolled on the crimson quilt of the cot. A smile went up the plump +cheeks: forthwith the bud of a mouth was in rapid motion. The young +mother whispered, blushing: "He's dreaming of me," and the simple +words did more than Richard's eyes to make him see what was. Then +Lucy began to hum and buzz sweet baby-language, and some of the tiny +fingers stirred, and he made as if to change his cosy position, but +reconsidered, and deferred it, with a peaceful little sigh. Lucy +whispered: "He is such a big fellow. Oh! when you see him awake he +is so like you, Richard." + +He did not hear her immediately: it seemed a bit of heaven dropped +there in his likeness: the more human the fact of the child grew the +more heavenly it seemed. His son! his child! should he ever see him +awake? At the thought, he took the words that had been spoken, and +started from the dream he had been in. "Will he wake soon, Lucy?" + +"Oh no! not yet, dear: not for hours. I would have kept him awake +for you, but he was _so_ sleepy." + +Richard stood back from the cot. He thought that if he saw the eyes +of his boy, and had him once on his heart, he never should have +force to leave him. Then he looked down on him, again struggled to +tear himself away. Two natures warred in his bosom, or it may have +been the Magian Conflict still going on. He had come to see his +child once and to make peace with his wife before it should be too +late. Might he not stop with them? Might he not relinquish that +devilish pledge? Was not divine happiness here offered to him?--If +foolish Ripton had not delayed to tell him of his interview with +Mountfalcon all might have been well. But pride said it was +impossible. And then injury spoke. For why was he thus base and +spotted to the darling of his love? A mad pleasure in the prospect +of wreaking vengeance on the villain who had laid the trap for him, +once more blackened his brain. If he would stay he could not. So he +resolved, throwing the burden on Fate. The struggle was over, but +oh, the pain! + +Lucy beheld the tears streaming hot from his face on the child's +cot. She marvelled at such excess of emotion. But when his chest +heaved, and the extremity of mortal anguish appeared to have seized +him, her heart sank, and she tried to get him in her arms. He turned +away from her and went to the window. A half-moon was over the lake. + +"Look!" he said, "do you remember our rowing there one night, and we +saw the shadow of the cypress? I wish I could have come early +to-night that we might have had another row, and I have heard you +sing there!" + +"Darling!" said she, "will it make you happier if I go with you now? +I will." + +"No, Lucy. Lucy, you are brave!" + +"Oh, no! that I'm not. I thought so once. I know I am not now." + +"Yes! to have lived--the child on your heart--and never to have +uttered a complaint!--you are brave. O my Lucy! my wife! you that +have made me man! I called you a coward. I remember it. I was the +coward--_I_ the wretched vain fool! Darling! I am going to leave you +now. You are brave, and you will bear it. Listen: in two days, or +three, I may be back--back for good, if you will accept me. Promise +me to go to bed quietly. Kiss the child for me, and tell him his +father has seen him. He will learn to speak soon. Will he soon +speak, Lucy?" + +Dreadful suspicion kept her speechless; she could only clutch one +arm of his with both her hands. + +"Going?" she presently gasped. + +"For two or three days. No more--I hope." + +"To-night?" + +"Yes. Now." + +"Going now? my husband!" her faculties abandoned her. + +"You will be brave, my Lucy!" + +"Richard! my darling husband! Going? What is it takes you from me?" +But questioning no further, she fell on her knees, and cried +piteously to him to stay--not to leave them. Then she dragged him to +the little sleeper, and urged him to pray by his side, and he did, +but rose abruptly from his prayer when he had muttered a few broken +words--she praying on with tight-strung nerves, in the faith that +what she said to the interceding Mother above would be stronger than +human hands on him. Nor could he go while she knelt there. + +And he wavered. He had not reckoned on her terrible suffering. She +came to him, quiet. "I knew you would remain." And taking his hand, +innocently fondling it: "Am I so changed from her he loved? You will +not leave me, dear?" But dread returned, and the words quavered as +she spoke them. + +He was almost vanquished by the loveliness of her womanhood. She +drew his hand to her heart, and strained it there under one breast. +"Come: lie on my heart," she murmured with a smile of holy +sweetness. + +He wavered more, and drooped to her, but summoning the powers of +hell, kissed her suddenly, cried the words of parting, and hurried +to the door. It was over in an instant. She cried out his name, +clinging to him wildly, and was adjured to be brave, for he would be +dishonoured if he did not go. Then she was shaken off. + +Mrs. Berry was aroused by an unusual prolonged wailing of the child, +which showed that no one was comforting it, and failing to get any +answer to her applications for admittance, she made bold to enter. +There she saw Lucy, the child in her lap, sitting on the floor +senseless:--she had taken it from its sleep and tried to follow her +husband with it as her strongest appeal to him, and had fainted. + +"Oh my! oh my!" Mrs. Berry moaned, "and I just now thinkin' they was +so happy!" + +Warming and caressing the poor infant, she managed by degrees to +revive Lucy, and heard what had brought her to that situation. + +"Go to his father," said Mrs. Berry. "Ta-te-tiddle-te-heighty-O! Go, +my love, and every horse in Raynham shall be out after 'm. This is +what men brings us to! Heighty-oighty-iddlety-Ah! Or you take +blessed baby, and I'll go." + +The baronet himself knocked at the door. "What is this?" he said. "I +heard a noise and a step descend." + +"It's Mr. Richard have gone, Sir Austin! have gone from his wife and +babe! Rum-te-um-te-iddledy--Oh, my goodness! what sorrow's come on +us!" and Mrs. Berry wept, and sang to baby, and baby cried +vehemently, and Lucy, sobbing, took him and danced him and sang to +him with drawn lips and tears dropping over him. And if the +Scientific Humanist to the day of his death forgets the sight of +those two poor true women jigging on their wretched hearts to calm +the child, he must have very little of the human in him. + +There was no more sleep for Raynham that night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +LADY BLANDISH TO AUSTIN WENTWORTH + + +"His ordeal is over. I have just come from his room and seen him +bear the worst that could be. Return at once--he has asked for you. +I can hardly write intelligibly, but I will tell you what we know. + +"Two days after the dreadful night when he left us, his father heard +from Ralph Morton. Richard had fought a duel in France with Lord +Mountfalcon, and was lying wounded at a hamlet on the coast. His +father started immediately with his poor wife, and I followed in +company with his aunt and his child. The wound was not dangerous. He +was shot in the side somewhere, but the ball injured no vital part. +We thought all would be well. Oh! how sick I am of theories, and +Systems, and the pretensions of men! There was his son lying all but +dead, and the man was still unconvinced of the folly he had been +guilty of. I could hardly bear the sight of his composure. I shall +hate the name of Science till the day I die. Give me nothing but +commonplace unpretending people! + +"They were at a wretched French cabaret, smelling vilely, where we +still remain, and the people try as much as they can do to +compensate for our discomforts by their kindness. The French poor +people are very considerate where they see suffering. I will say +that for them. The doctors had not allowed his poor Lucy to go near +him. She sat outside his door, and none of us dared disturb her. +That was a sight for Science. His father and myself, and Mrs. Berry, +were the only ones permitted to wait on him, and whenever we came +out, there she sat, not speaking a word--for she had been told it +would endanger his life--but she looked such awful eagerness. She +had the sort of eye I fancy mad persons have. I was sure her reason +was going. We did everything we could think of to comfort her. A bed +was made up for her and her meals were brought to her there. Of +course there was no getting her to eat. What do you suppose _his_ +alarm was fixed on? He absolutely said to me--but I have not +patience to repeat his words. He thought her to blame for not +_commanding_ herself for the sake of her _maternal duties_. He had +absolutely an idea of insisting that she should make an effort to +suckle the child. I shall love that Mrs. Berry to the end of my +days. I really believe she has _twice_ the sense of any of +us--Science and all. She asked him plainly if he wished to poison +the child, and then he gave way, but with a bad grace. + +"Poor man! perhaps I am hard on him. I remember that you said +Richard had done wrong. Yes; well, that may be. But his father +eclipsed his wrong in a greater wrong--a crime, or quite as bad; for +if he deceived himself in the belief that he was acting righteously +in separating husband and wife, and exposing his son as he did, I +can only say that there are some who are worse than people who +deliberately commit _crimes_. No doubt Science will benefit by it. +They kill little animals for the sake of Science. + +"We have with us Doctor Bairam, and a French physician from Dieppe, +a very skilful man. It was he who told us where the real danger lay. +We thought all would be well. A week had passed, and no fever +supervened. We told Richard that his wife was coming to him, and he +could bear to hear it. I went to her and began to circumlocute, +thinking she listened--she had the same eager look. When I told her +she might go in with me to see her dear husband, her features did +not change. M. Despres, who held her pulse at the time, told me, in +a whisper, it was cerebral fever--brain fever coming on. We have +talked of her since. I noticed that though she did not seem to +understand me, her bosom heaved, and she appeared to be trying to +repress it, and choke something. I am sure now, from what I know of +her character, that she--even in the approaches of delirium--was +preventing herself from crying out. Her last hold of reason was a +thought for Richard. It was against a creature like this that we +plotted! I have the comfort of knowing that I did my share in +helping to destroy her. Had she seen her husband a day or two +before--but no! there was a new _System_ to interdict that! Or had +she not so violently controlled her nature as she did, I believe she +might have been saved. + +"He said once of a man, that his conscience was a coxcomb. Will you +believe that when he saw his son's wife--poor victim! lying +delirious, he could not even then see his error. You said he wished +to take Providence out of God's hands. His mad self-deceit would not +leave him. I am positive, that while he was standing over her, he +was blaming her for not having considered the child. Indeed he made +a remark to me that it was unfortunate--'disastrous,' I think he +said--that the child should have to be fed by hand. I dare say it +is. All I pray is that this young child may be saved from him. I +cannot bear to see him look on it. He does not spare himself +_bodily_ fatigue--but what is that? that is the vulgarest form of +love. I know what you will say. You will say I have lost all +charity, and I have. But I should not feel so, Austin, if I could be +_quite sure_ that he is an altered man even now the blow has struck +him. He is reserved and simple in his speech, and his grief is +evident, but I have doubts. He heard her while she was senseless +call him cruel and harsh, and cry that she had suffered, and I saw +then his mouth contract as if he had been touched. Perhaps, when he +thinks, his mind will be clearer, but what he has done cannot be +undone. I do not imagine he will abuse women any more. The doctor +called her a 'forte et belle jeune femme:' and _he_ said she was as +noble a soul as ever God moulded clay upon. A noble soul 'forte et +belle!' She lies upstairs. If he can look on her and not see his +_sin_, I almost fear God will never enlighten him. + +"She died five days after she had been removed. The shock had +utterly deranged her. I was with her. She died very quietly, +breathing her last breath without pain--asking for no one--a death I +should like to die. + +"Her cries at one time were dreadfully loud. She screamed that she +was 'drowning in fire,' and that her husband would not come to her +to save her. We deadened the sound as much as we could, but it was +impossible to prevent Richard from hearing. He knew her voice, and +it produced an effect like fever on him. Whenever she called he +answered. You could not hear them without weeping. Mrs. Berry sat +with her, and I sat with him, and his father moved from one to the +other. + +"But the trial for us came when she was gone. How to communicate it +to Richard--or whether to do so at all! His father consulted with +us. We were quite decided that it would be madness to breathe it +while he was in that state. I can admit now--as things have turned +out--we were wrong. His father left us--I believe he spent the time +in prayer--and then leaning on me, he went to Richard, and said in +so many words, that his Lucy was no more. I thought it must kill +him. He listened, and smiled. I never saw a smile so sweet and so +sad. He said he had seen her die, as if he had passed through his +suffering a long time ago. He shut his eyes. I could see by the +motion of his eyeballs up that he was straining his sight to some +inner heaven.--I cannot go on. + +"I think Richard is safe. Had we postponed the tidings, till he came +to his clear senses, it must have killed him. His father was right +for once, then. But if he has saved his son's body, he has given the +death-blow to his heart. Richard will never be what he promised. + +"A letter found on his clothes tells us the origin of the quarrel. I +have had an interview with Lord M. this morning. I cannot say I +think him exactly to blame: Richard forced him to fight. At least I +do not select him the foremost for blame. He was deeply and +sincerely affected by the calamity he has caused. Alas! he was only +an instrument. Your poor aunt is utterly prostrate and talks strange +things of her daughter's death. She is only happy in _drudging_. Dr. +Bairam says we must under any circumstances keep her employed. +Whilst she is doing something, she can chat freely, but the moment +her hands are not occupied she gives me an idea that she is going +into a fit. + +"We expect the dear child's uncle to-day. Mr. Thompson is here. I +have taken him upstairs to look at her. That poor young man has a +true heart. + +"Come at once. You will not be in time to see her. She will lie at +Raynham. If you could you would see an angel. _He_ sits by her side +for hours. I can give you no description of her beauty. + +"You will not delay, I know, dear Austin, and I want you, for your +presence will make me more charitable than I find it possible to be. +Have you noticed the expression in the eyes of blind men? That is +just how Richard looks, as he lies there silent in his bed--striving +to image her on his brain." + + + + +The Modern Student's Library + + +NOVELS + + AUSTEN: Pride and Prejudice + With an introduction by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS + + BUNYAN: The Pilgrim's Progress + With an introduction by SAMUEL MCCHORD CROTHERS + + COOPER: The Spy + With an introduction by TREMAINE MCDOWELL, Associate Professor + of English, University of Minnesota + + ELIOT: Adam Bede + With an introduction by LAURA JOHNSON WYLIE, formerly Professor + of English, Vassar College + + FIELDING: The Adventures of Joseph Andrews + With an introduction by BRUCE MCCULLOUGH, Associate Professor + of English, New York University + + GALSWORTHY: The Patrician + With an introduction by BLISS PERRY, Professor of English + Literature, Harvard University + + HARDY: The Return of the Native + With an introduction by J. W. CUNLIFFE, Professor of English, + Columbia University + + HAWTHORNE: The Scarlet Letter + With an introduction by STUART P. SHERMAN, late Literary Editor of + the New York _Herald Tribune_ + + MEREDITH: Evan Harrington + With an introduction by GEORGE F. REYNOLDS, Professor of English + Literature, University of Colorado + + MEREDITH: The Ordeal of Richard Feverel + With an introduction by FRANK W. CHANDLER, Professor of English + and Comparative Literature, and Dean of the College of Liberal + Arts, University of Cincinnati + + SCOTT: The Heart of Midlothian + With an introduction by WILLIAM P. TRENT, Professor of English + Literature, Columbia University + + STEVENSON: The Master of Ballantrae + With an introduction by H. S. CANBY, Assistant Editor of the + _Yale Review_ and Editor of the _Saturday Review_ + + THACKERAY: The History of Pendennis + With an introduction by ROBERT MORSS LOVETT, Professor of + English, University of Chicago. 2 vols. + + TROLLOPE: Barchester Towers + With an introduction by CLARENCE D. STEVENS, Professor of + English, University of Cincinnati + + WHARTON: Ethan Frome + With a special introduction by EDITH WHARTON + + THREE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY ROMANCES: The Castle of Otranto, Vathek, + The Romance of the Forest + With an introduction by HARRISON R. STEEVES, Professor of + English, Columbia University + + +POETRY + + BROWNING: Poems and Plays + Edited by HEWETTE E. JOYCE, Assistant Professor of English, + Dartmouth College + + BROWNING: The Ring and the Book + Edited by FREDERICK MORGAN PADEIFORD, Professor of English, + University of Washington + + TENNYSON: Poems + Edited by J. F. A. 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BOUTON, Professor of English and Dean + of the Graduate School, New York University + + BACON: Essays + Edited by MARY AUGUSTA SCOTT, late Professor of the English + Language and Literature, Smith College + + BROWNELL: American Prose Masters + Edited by STUART P. SHERMAN, late Literary Editor of the New + York _Herald Tribune_ + + BURKE: Selections + Edited by LESLIE NATHAN BROUGHTON, Assistant Professor of English, + Cornell University + + CARLYLE: Past and Present + Edited by EDWIN MIMS, Professor of English, Vanderbilt University + + CARLYLE: Sartor Resartus + Edited by ASHLEY H. THORNDIKE, Professor of English, Columbia + University + + EMERSON: Essays and Poems + Edited by ARTHUR HOBSON QUINN, Professor of English, University + of Pennsylvania + + FRANKLIN AND EDWARDS: Selections + Edited by CARL VAN DOREN, Associate Professor of English, + Columbia University + + HAZLITT: Essays + Edited by PERCY V. D. 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Goodwin Professor of + English, Trinity College + + CONTEMPORARY ESSAYS + Edited by ODELL SHEPARD, James J. Goodwin Professor of English, + Trinity College + + CRITICAL ESSAYS OF THE EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY + Edited by RAYMOND M. ALDEN, late Professor of English, Leland + Stanford University + + SELECTIONS FROM THE FEDERALIST + Edited by JOHN S. BASSETT, late Professor of History, Smith College + + NINETEENTH CENTURY LETTERS + Edited by BYRON JOHNSON REES, late Professor of English, + Williams College + + ROMANTIC PROSE OF THE EARLY NINETEENTH CENTURY + Edited by CARL H. GRABO, Professor of English, University of + Chicago + + SEVENTEENTH CENTURY ESSAYS + Edited by JACOB ZEITLIN, Associate Professor of English, + University of Illinois + + +BIOGRAPHY + + BOSWELL: Life of Johnson + Abridged and Edited by CHARLES GROSVENOR OSGOOD, Professor + of English, Princeton University + + CROCKETT: Autobiography of David Crockett + Edited by HAMLIN GARLAND + + +PHILOSOPHY SERIES + + =Editor, Ralph Barton Perry= + _Professor of Philosophy, Harvard University_ + + ARISTOTLE: Selections + Edited by W. D. ROSS, Professor of Philosophy, Oriel College, + University of Oxford + + BACON: Selections + Edited by MATTHEW THOMPSON MCCLURE, Professor of Philosophy, + University of Illinois + + BERKELEY: Selections + Edited by MARY W. CALKINS, late Professor of Philosophy and + Psychology, Wellesley College + + DESCARTES: Selections + Edited by RALPH M. EATON, late Assistant Professor of Philosophy, + Harvard University + + HEGEL: Selections + Edited by JACOB LOEWENBERG, Professor of Philosophy, University + of California + + HOBBES: Selections + Edited by FREDERICK J. E. WOODBRIDGE, Johnsonian Professor + of Philosophy, Columbia University + + HUME: Selections + Edited by CHARLES W. HENDEL, JR., Professor of Philosophy, McGill + University + + KANT: Selections + Edited by THEODORE M. GREENE, Associate Professor of Philosophy, + Princeton University + + LOCKE: Selections + Edited by STERLING P. LAMPRECHT, Professor of Philosophy, Amherst + College + + PLATO: The Republic + With an introduction by C. M. BAKEWELL, Professor of Philosophy, Yale + University + + PLATO: Selections + Edited by RAPHAEL DEMOS, Assistant Professor of Philosophy, Harvard + University + + SCHOPENHAUER: Selections + Edited by DEWITT H. PARKER, Professor of Philosophy, University of + Michigan + + SPINOZA: Selections + Edited by JOHN D. WILD, Instructor in Philosophy, Harvard University + + MEDIEVAL PHILOSOPHY + Edited by RICHARD MCKEON, Assistant Professor of Philosophy, Columbia + University + + +FRENCH SERIES + + =Editor, Horatio Smith= + _Professor of French Language and Literature, Brown University_ + + BALZAC: Le Pere Goriot + With an introduction by HORATIO SMITH, Brown University + + CORNEILLE: Le Cid, Horace, Polyeucte, Le Menteur + Edited by C. H. C. WRIGHT, Professor of French Language and + Literature, Harvard University + + FLAUBERT: Madame Bovary + With an introduction by CHRISTIAN GAUSS, Dean of the College, + Princeton University + + MADAME DE LA FAYETTE: La Princesse de Cleves + With an introduction by H. ASHTON, Professor of French Language and + Literature, University of British Columbia + + MOLIERE: Les Precieuses Ridicules, Le Tartuffe, Le Misanthrope + Edited by WILLIAM A. NITZE and HILDA L. NORMAN, University of Chicago + + PREVOST: Histoire du Chevalier des Grieux et de Manon Lescaut + With an introduction by LOUIS LANDRE, Associate Professor of French, + Brown University + + RACINE: Andromaque, Britannicus, Phedre + Edited by H. CARRINGTON LANCASTER, Professor of French Literature, + Johns Hopkins University, and EDMOND A. MERAS, Professor of French + Literature, Adelphi College + + GEORGE SAND: Indiana + With an introduction by HERMANN H. THORNTON, Associate Professor of + French and Italian, Oberlin College + + STENDHAL: Le Rouge et le Noir + With an introduction by PAUL HAZARD, College de France + + VOLTAIRE: Candide and Other Philosophical Tales + Edited by MORRIS BISHOP, Assistant Professor of the Romance Languages + and Literature, Cornell University + + FRENCH ROMANTIC PLAYS: Dumas's "Antony," Hugo's "Hernani" + and "Ruy Blas," Vigny's "Chatterton," Musset's "On ne badine pas + avec l'amour." + Edited by W. W. COMFORT, President, Haverford College + + FRENCH ROMANTIC PROSE + Edited by W. W. COMFORT, President, Haverford College + + FOUR FRENCH COMEDIES OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY: Lesage's + "Turcaret," Marivaux's "Le jeu de l'amour et du hasard," + Sedaine's "Le philosophe sans le savoir," Beaumarchais's "Le + barbier de Seville" + Edited by CASIMIR D. ZDANOWICZ, Professor of French, University of + Wisconsin + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES + + +1. Passages in italics are indicated by _underscore_. + +2. Passages in bold are indicated by =. + +3. Other than the corrections listed below, printer's inconsistencies +in spelling, punctuation and hyphenation usage have been retained: + + Pg. 3 "Feveral" corrected to "Feverel" (Hippias Feverel) + Pg. 25 "run" corrected to "rung" (bell was rung) + Pg. 38 "pursuade" corrected to "persuade" (persuade her to disrobe) + Pg. 44 "Said" corrected to "said" (coward?" said) + Pg. 52 "Feveral" corrected to "Feverel" (a Feverel asking this) + Pg. 75 "Parliment" corrected to "Parliament" (hero of our Parliament,) + Pg. 119 "agree" corrected to "agrees" (it agrees with me) + Pg. 455 "sparating" corrected to "separating" (in separating) + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Ordeal of Richard Feverel, by George Meredith + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORDEAL OF RICHARD FEVEREL *** + +***** This file should be named 34858.txt or 34858.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/8/5/34858/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Dianne Nolan, Louise Setzer and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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