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diff --git a/5118-h/5118-h.htm b/5118-h/5118-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f2e3357 --- /dev/null +++ b/5118-h/5118-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23363 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The American Senator, by Anthony Trollope</title> +<style type="text/css"> + body {background:#fdfdfd; + color:black; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + font-size: large; + margin-left:15%; + margin-right:15%; + text-align:justify; } + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center; + clear: both; } + hr.narrow { width: 40%; + text-align: center; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; } + hr { width: 100%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + img { border: 0; } + .caption { font-size: small; + font-weight: bold; } + blockquote { font-size: large; + margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%; } + blockquote.med { font-size: medium; + margin-left: 6%; + margin-right: 6%; } + table {font-size: large; + text-align: left; } + p {text-indent: 4%; } + p.noindent { text-indent: 0%; } + .center { text-align: center; } + .ind2 { margin-left: 8%; } + .ind4 { margin-left: 16%; } + .ind6 { margin-left: 24%; } + .ind8 { margin-left: 32%; } + .ind10 { margin-left: 40%; } + .ind12 { margin-left: 48%; } + .ind14 { margin-left: 56%; } + .ind15 { margin-left: 60%; } + .ind16 { margin-left: 64%; } + .ind18 { margin-left: 72%; } + .ind20 { margin-left: 80%; } + .jright { text-align: right; } + .wide { letter-spacing: 2em; } + .nowrap { white-space: nowrap; } + .small { font-size: 85%; } + .large { font-size: 130%; } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red; + text-decoration: underline; } + pre {font-size: 85%; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The American Senator, by Anthony Trollope</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p class="noindent">Title: The American Senator</p> +<p class="noindent">Author: Anthony Trollope</p> +<p class="noindent">Release Date: May 4, 2002 [eBook #5118]<br /> +Most recently updated: April 8, 2011</p> +<p class="noindent">Language: English</p> +<p class="noindent">Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p class="noindent">***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMERICAN SENATOR***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Tapio Riikonen<br /> + and revised by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.<br /> + <br /> + HTML version by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE AMERICAN SENATOR</h1> + +<p> </p> +<h4>by</h4> + +<h2>ANTHONY TROLLOPE</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>First published in serial form in <i>Temple Bar Magazine</i><br /> +May, 1876, through July, 1877, and in book form in 1877<br /> +by Chapman and Hall.</h4> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="3"> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><b><span class="small">VOLUME I</span></b><br /> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">I. </td> <td><a href="#c1-1" >DILLSBOROUGH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">II. </td> <td><a href="#c1-2" >THE MORTON FAMILY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">III. </td> <td><a href="#c1-3" >THE MASTERS FAMILY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IV. </td> <td><a href="#c1-4" >THE DILLSBOROUGH CLUB.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">V. </td> <td><a href="#c1-5" >REGINALD MORTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VI. </td> <td><a href="#c1-6" >NOT IN LOVE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-7" >THE WALK HOME.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VIII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-8" >THE PARAGON'S PARTY AT BRAGTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IX. </td> <td><a href="#c1-9" >THE OLD KENNELS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">X. </td> <td><a href="#c1-10" >GOARLY'S REVENGE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XI. </td> <td><a href="#c1-11" >FROM IMPINGTON GORSE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-12" >ARABELLA TREFOIL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-13" >AT BRAGTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIV. </td> <td><a href="#c1-14" >THE DILLSBOROUGH FEUD.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XV. </td> <td><a href="#c1-15" >A FIT COMPANION,—FOR ME AND MY SISTERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVI. </td> <td><a href="#c1-16" >MR. GOTOBED'S PHILANTHROPY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-17" >LORD RUFFORD'S INVITATION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-18" >THE ATTORNEY'S FAMILY IS DISTURBED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIX. </td> <td><a href="#c1-19" >"WHO VALUED THE GEESE?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XX. </td> <td><a href="#c1-20" >THERE ARE CONVENANCES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXI. </td> <td><a href="#c1-21" >THE FIRST EVENING AT RUFFORD HALL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-22" >JEMIMA.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-23" >POOR CANEBACK.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c1-24" >THE BALL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXV. </td> <td><a href="#c1-25" >THE LAST MORNING AT RUFFORD HALL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c1-26" >GIVE ME SIX MONTHS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c1-27" >"WONDERFUL BIRD!"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td valign="bottom"> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><b><span class="small">VOLUME II</span></b><br /> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">I. </td> <td><a href="#c2-1" >MOUNSER GREEN.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">II. </td> <td><a href="#c2-2" >THE SENATOR'S LETTER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">III. </td> <td><a href="#c2-3" >AT CHELTENHAM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IV. </td> <td><a href="#c2-4" >THE RUFFORD CORRESPONDENCE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">V. </td> <td><a href="#c2-5" >"IT IS A LONG WAY."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VI. </td> <td><a href="#c2-6" >THE BEGINNING OF PERSECUTION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-7" >MARY'S LETTER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VIII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-8" >CHOWTON FARM FOR SALE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IX. </td> <td><a href="#c2-9" >MISTLETOE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">X. </td> <td><a href="#c2-10" >HOW THINGS WERE ARRANGED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XI. </td> <td><a href="#c2-11" >"YOU ARE SO SEVERE."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-12" >THE DAY AT PELTRY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-13" >LORD RUFFORD WANTS TO SEE A HORSE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIV. </td> <td><a href="#c2-14" >THE SENATOR IS BADLY TREATED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XV. </td> <td><a href="#c2-15" >MR. MAINWARING'S LITTLE DINNER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVI. </td> <td><a href="#c2-16" >PERSECUTION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-17" >"PARTICULARLY PROUD OF YOU."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-18" >LORD RUFFORD MAKES UP HIS MIND.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIX. </td> <td><a href="#c2-19" >IT CANNOT BE ARRANGED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XX. </td> <td><a href="#c2-20" >"BUT THERE IS SOME ONE."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXI. </td> <td><a href="#c2-21" >THE DINNER AT THE BUSH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-22" >MISS TREFOIL'S DECISION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-23" >"IN THESE DAYS ONE CAN'T MAKE A MAN MARRY."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c2-24" >THE SENATOR'S SECOND LETTER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXV. </td> <td><a href="#c2-25" >PROVIDENCE INTERFERES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c2-26" >LADY USHANT AT BRAGTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c2-27" >ARABELLA AGAIN AT BRAGTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td valign="bottom"> </td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" align="center"><b><span class="small">VOLUME III</span></b><br /> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">I. </td> <td><a href="#c3-1" >"I HAVE TOLD HIM EVERYTHING."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">II. </td> <td><a href="#c3-2" >"NOW WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO SAY?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">III. </td> <td><a href="#c3-3" >MRS. MORTON RETURNS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IV. </td> <td><a href="#c3-4" >THE TWO OLD LADIES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">V. </td> <td><a href="#c3-5" >THE LAST EFFORT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VI. </td> <td><a href="#c3-6" >AGAIN AT MISTLETOE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-7" >THE SUCCESS OF LADY AUGUSTUS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VIII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-8" >"WE SHALL KILL EACH OTHER."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IX. </td> <td><a href="#c3-9" >CHANGES AT BRAGTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">X. </td> <td><a href="#c3-10" >THE WILL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XI. </td> <td><a href="#c3-11" >THE NEW MINISTER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-12" >"I MUST GO."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-13" >IN THE PARK.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIV. </td> <td><a href="#c3-14" >LORD RUFFORD'S MODEL FARM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XV. </td> <td><a href="#c3-15" >SCROBBY'S TRIAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVI. </td> <td><a href="#c3-16" >AT LAST.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-17" >"MY OWN, OWN HUSBAND."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-18" >"BID HIM BE A MAN."</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIX. </td> <td><a href="#c3-19" >"IS IT TANTI?"</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XX. </td> <td><a href="#c3-20" >BENEDICT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXI. </td> <td><a href="#c3-21" >ARABELLA'S SUCCESS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-22" >THE WEDDING.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c3-23" >THE SENATOR'S LECTURE.—NO. I.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c3-24" >THE SENATOR'S LECTURE.—NO. II.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXV. </td> <td><a href="#c3-25" >THE LAST DAYS OF MARY MASTERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c3-26" >CONCLUSION.</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> + +<p><a name="c1-1" id="c1-1"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>VOLUME I.</h3> +<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> +<h3>DILLSBOROUGH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I never could understand why anybody should ever have begun to live +at Dillsborough, or why the population there should have been at any +time recruited by new comers. That a man with a family should cling +to a house in which he has once established himself is intelligible. +The butcher who supplied Dillsborough, or the baker, or the +ironmonger, though he might not drive what is called a roaring trade, +nevertheless found himself probably able to live, and might well +hesitate before he would encounter the dangers of a more energetic +locality. But how it came to pass that he first got himself to +Dillsborough, or his father, or his grandfather before him, has +always been a mystery to me. The town has no attractions, and never +had any. It does not stand on a bed of coal and has no connection +with iron. It has no water peculiarly adapted for beer, or for +dyeing, or for the cure of maladies. It is not surrounded by beauty +of scenery strong enough to bring tourists and holiday travellers. +There is no cathedral there to form, with its bishops, prebendaries, +and minor canons, the nucleus of a clerical circle. It manufactures +nothing specially. It has no great horse fair, or cattle fair, or +even pig market of special notoriety. Every Saturday farmers and +graziers and buyers of corn and sheep do congregate in a sleepy +fashion about the streets, but Dillsborough has no character of its +own, even as a market town. Its chief glory is its parish church, +which is ancient and inconvenient, having not as yet received any of +those modern improvements which have of late become common throughout +England; but its parish church, though remarkable, is hardly +celebrated. The town consists chiefly of one street which is over a +mile long, with a square or market-place in the middle, round which a +few lanes with queer old names are congregated, and a second small +open space among these lanes, in which the church stands. As you pass +along the street north-west, away from the railway station and from +London, there is a steep hill, beginning to rise just beyond the +market-place. Up to that point it is the High Street, thence it is +called Bullock's Hill. Beyond that you come to Norrington +Road,—Norrington being the next town, distant from Dillsborough +about twelve miles. Dillsborough, however, stands in the county of +Rufford, whereas at the top of Bullock's Hill you enter the county of +Ufford, of which Norrington is the assize town. The Dillsborough +people are therefore divided, some two thousand five hundred of them +belonging to Rufford, and the remaining five hundred to the +neighbouring county. This accident has given rise to not a few feuds, +Ufford being a large county, with pottery, and ribbons, and watches +going on in the farther confines; whereas Rufford is small and +thoroughly agricultural. The men at the top of Bullock's Hill are +therefore disposed to think themselves better than their +fellow-townsfolks, though they are small in number and not specially +thriving in their circumstances.</p> + +<p>At every interval of ten years, when the census is taken, the +population of Dillsborough is always found to have fallen off in some +slight degree. For a few months after the publication of the figures +a slight tinge of melancholy comes upon the town. The landlord of the +Bush Inn, who is really an enterprising man in his way and who has +looked about in every direction for new sources of business, becomes +taciturn for a while and forgets to smile upon comers; Mr. Ribbs, the +butcher, tells his wife that it is out of the question that she and +the children should take that long-talked-of journey to the +sea-coast; and Mr. Gregory Masters, the well-known old-established +attorney of Dillsborough, whispers to some confidential friend that +he might as well take down his plate and shut up his house. But in a +month or two all that is forgotten, and new hopes spring up even in +Dillsborough; Mr. Runciman at the Bush is putting up new stables for +hunting-horses, that being the special trade for which he now finds +that there is an opening; Mrs. Ribbs is again allowed to suggest +Mare-Slocumb; and Mr. Masters goes on as he has done for the last +forty years, making the best he can of a decreasing business.</p> + +<p>Dillsborough is built chiefly of brick, and is, in its own way, solid +enough. The Bush, which in the time of the present landlord's father +was one of the best posting inns on the road, is not only +substantial, but almost handsome. A broad coach way, cut through the +middle of the house, leads into a spacious, well-kept, clean yard, +and on each side of the coach way there are bay windows looking into +the street,—the one belonging to the commercial parlour, and the +other to the so-called coffee-room. But the coffee-room has in truth +fallen away from its former purposes, and is now used for a farmer's +ordinary on market days, and other similar purposes. Travellers who +require the use of a public sitting-room must all congregate in the +commercial parlour at the Bush. So far the interior of the house has +fallen from its past greatness. But the exterior is maintained with +much care. The brickwork up to the eaves is well pointed, fresh, and +comfortable to look at. In front of the carriage-way swings on two +massive supports the old sign of the Bush, as to which it may be +doubted whether even Mr. Runciman himself knows that it has swung +there, or been displayed in some fashion, since it was the custom for +the landlord to beat up wine to freshen it before it was given to the +customers to drink. The church, too, is of brick—though the tower +and chancel are of stone. The attorney's house is of brick, which +shall not be more particularly described now as many of the scenes +which these pages will have to describe were acted there; and almost +the entire High Street in the centre of the town was brick also.</p> + +<p>But the most remarkable house in Dillsborough was one standing in a +short thoroughfare called Hobbs Gate, leading down by the side of the +Bush Inn from the market-place to Church Square, as it is called. As +you pass down towards the church this house is on the right hand, and +it occupies with its garden the whole space between the market-place +and Church Square. But though the house enjoys the privilege of a +large garden,—so large that the land being in the middle of a town +would be of great value were it not that Dillsborough is in its +decadence,—still it stands flush up to the street upon which the +front door opens. It has an imposing flight of stone steps guarded by +iron rails leading up to it, and on each side of the door there is a +row of three windows, and on the two upper stories rows of seven +windows. Over the door there is a covering, on which there are +grotesquely-formed, carved wooden faces; and over the centre of each +window, let into the brickwork, is a carved stone. There are also +numerous underground windows, sunk below the earth and protected by +iron railings. Altogether the house is one which cannot fail to +attract attention; and in the brickwork is clearly marked the date, +1701,—not the very best period for English architecture as regards +beauty, but one in which walls and roofs, ceilings and buttresses, +were built more substantially than they are to-day. This was the only +house in Dillsborough which had a name of its own, and it was called +Hoppet Hall, the Dillsborough chronicles telling that it had been +originally built for and inhabited by the Hoppet family. The only +Hoppet now left in Dillsborough is old Joe Hoppet, the ostler at the +Bush; and the house, as was well known, had belonged to some member +of the Morton family for the last hundred years at least. The garden +and ground it stands upon comprise three acres, all of which are +surrounded by a high brick wall, which is supposed to be coeval with +the house. The best Ribston pippins,—some people say the only real +Ribston pippins,—in all Rufford are to be found here, and its +Burgundy pears and walnuts are almost equally celebrated. There are +rumours also that its roses beat everything in the way of roses for +ten miles round. But in these days very few strangers are admitted to +see the Hoppet Hall roses. The pears and apples do make their way +out, and are distributed either by Mrs. Masters, the attorney's wife, +or Mr. Runciman, the innkeeper. The present occupier of the house is +a certain Mr. Reginald Morton, with whom we shall also be much +concerned in these pages, but whose introduction to the reader shall +be postponed for awhile.</p> + +<p>The land around Dillsborough is chiefly owned by two landlords, of +whom the greatest and richest is Lord Rufford. He, however, does not +live near the town, but away at the other side of the county, and is +not much seen in these parts unless when the hounds bring him here, +or when, with two or three friends, he will sometimes stay for a few +days at the Bush Inn for the sake of shooting the coverts. He is much +liked by all sporting men, but is not otherwise very popular with the +people round Dillsborough. A landlord if he wishes to be popular +should be seen frequently. If he lives among his farmers they will +swear by him, even though he raises his rental every ten or twelve +years and never puts a new roof to a barn for them. Lord Rufford is a +rich man who thinks of nothing but sport in all its various shapes, +from pigeon-shooting at Hurlingham to the slaughter of elephants in +Africa; and though he is lenient in all his dealings, is not much +thought of in the Dillsborough side of the county, except by those +who go out with the hounds. At Rufford, where he generally has a full +house for three months in the year and spends a vast amount of money, +he is more highly considered.</p> + +<p>The other extensive landlord is Mr. John Morton, a young man, who, in +spite of his position as squire of Bragton, owner of Bragton Park, +and landlord of the entire parishes of Bragton and Mallingham,—the +latter of which comes close up to the confines of Dillsborough,—was +at the time at which our story begins, Secretary of Legation at +Washington. As he had been an absentee since he came of age,—soon +after which time he inherited the property,—he had been almost less +liked in the neighbourhood than the lord. Indeed, no one in +Dillsborough knew much about him, although Bragton Hall was but four +miles from the town, and the Mortons had possessed the property and +lived on it for the last three centuries. But there had been +extravagance, as will hereafter have to be told, and there had been +no continuous residence at Bragton since the death of old Reginald +Morton, who had been the best known and the best loved of all the +squires in Rufford, and had for many years been master of the Rufford +hounds. He had lived to a very great age, and, though the +great-grandfather of the present man, had not been dead above twenty +years. He was the man of whom the older inhabitants of Dillsborough +and the neighbourhood still thought and still spoke when they gave +vent to their feelings in favour of gentlemen. And yet the old squire +in his latter days had been able to do little or nothing for +them,—being sometimes backward as to the payment of money he owed +among them. But he had lived all his days at Bragton Park, and his +figure had been familiar to all eyes in the High Street of +Dillsborough and at the front entrance of the Bush. People still +spoke of old Mr. Reginald Morton as though his death had been a sore +loss to the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>And there were in the country round sundry yeomen, as they ought to +be called,—gentlemen-farmers as they now like to style +themselves,—men who owned some acres of land, and farmed these acres +themselves. Of these we may specially mention Mr. Lawrence Twentyman, +who was quite the gentleman-farmer. He possessed over three hundred +acres of land, on which his father had built an excellent house. The +present Mr. Twentyman,—Lawrence Twentyman, Esquire, as he was called +by everybody,—was by no means unpopular in the neighbourhood. He not +only rode well to hounds but paid twenty-five pounds annually to the +hunt, which entitled him to feel quite at home in his red coat. He +generally owned a racing colt or two, and attended meetings; but was +supposed to know what he was about, and to have kept safely the five +or six thousand pounds which his father had left him. And his farming +was well done; for though he was, out-and-out, a gentleman-farmer, he +knew how to get the full worth in work done for the fourteen +shillings a week which he paid to his labourers,—a deficiency in +which knowledge is the cause why gentlemen in general find farming so +expensive an amusement. He was a handsome, good-looking man of about +thirty, and would have been a happy man had he not been too ambitious +in his aspirations after gentry. He had been at school for three +years at Cheltenham College, which, together with his money and +appearance and undoubted freehold property, should, he thought, have +made his position quite secure to him; but, though he sometimes +called young Hampton of Hampton Wick "Hampton," and the son of the +rector of Dillsborough "Mainwaring," and always called the rich young +brewers from Norrington "Botsey,"—partners in the well-known firm of +Billbrook & Botsey; and though they in return called him "Larry" and +admitted the intimacy, still he did not get into their houses. And +Lord Rufford, when he came into the neighbourhood, never asked him to +dine at the Bush. And—worst of all,—some of the sporting men and +others in the neighbourhood, who decidedly were not gentlemen, also +called him "Larry." Mr. Runciman always did so. Twenty or twenty-five +years ago Runciman had been his father's special friend,—before the +house had been built and before the days at Cheltenham College. +Remembering this Lawrence was too good a fellow to rebuke Runciman; +but to younger men of that class he would sometimes make himself +objectionable. There was another keeper of hunting stables, a younger +man, named Stubbings, living at Stanton Corner, a great hunting +rendezvous about four miles from Dillsborough; and not long since +Twentyman had threatened to lay his whip across Stubbings' shoulders +if Stubbings ever called him "Larry" again. Stubbings, who was a +little man and rode races, only laughed at Mr. Twentyman who was six +feet high, and told the story round to all the hunt. Mr. Twentyman +was more laughed at than perhaps he deserved. A man should not have +his Christian name used by every Tom and Dick without his sanction. +But the difficulty is one to which men in the position of Mr. +Lawrence Twentyman are often subject.</p> + +<p>Those whom I have named, together with Mr. Mainwaring the rector, and +Mr. Surtees his curate, made up the very sparse aristocracy of +Dillsborough. The Hamptons of Hampton Wick were Ufford men, and +belonged rather to Norrington than Dillsborough. The Botseys, also +from Norrington, were members of the U. R. U., or Ufford and Rufford +United Hunt Club; but they did not much affect Dillsborough as a +town. Mr. Mainwaring, who has been mentioned, lived in another brick +house behind the church,—the old parsonage of St. John's. There was +also a Mrs. Mainwaring, but she was an invalid. Their family +consisted of one son, who was at Brasenose at this time. He always +had a horse during the Christmas vacation, and if rumour did not +belie him, kept two or three up at Oxford. Mr. Surtees, the curate, +lived in lodgings in the town. He was a painstaking, eager, clever +young man, with aspirations in church matters, which were always +being checked by his rector. Quieta non movere was the motto by which +the rector governed his life, and he certainly was not at all the man +to allow his curate to drive him into activity.</p> + +<p>Such, at the time of our story, was the little town of Dillsborough.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-2" id="c1-2"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> +<h3>THE MORTON FAMILY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I can hardly describe accurately the exact position of the Masters +family without first telling all that I know about the Morton family; +and it is absolutely essential that the reader should know all the +Masters family intimately. Mr. Masters, as I have said in the last +chapter, was the attorney in Dillsborough, and the Mortons had been +for centuries past the squires of Bragton.</p> + +<p>I need not take the reader back farther than old Reginald Morton. He +had come to the throne of his family as a young man, and had sat upon +it for more than half a century. He had been a squire of the old +times, having no inclination for London seasons, never wishing to +keep up a second house, quite content with his position as squire of +Bragton, but with considerable pride about him as to that position. +He had always liked to have his house full, and had hated petty +œconomies. He had for many years hunted the county at his own +expense,—the amusement at first not having been so expensive as it +afterwards became. When he began the work, it had been considered +sufficient to hunt twice a week. Now the Rufford and Ufford hounds +have four days, and sometimes a bye. It went much against Mr. +Reginald Morton's pride when he was first driven to take a +subscription.</p> + +<p>But the temporary distress into which the family fell was caused not +so much by his own extravagance as by that of two sons, and by his +indulgence in regard to them. He had three children, none of whom +were very fortunate in life. The eldest, John, married the daughter +of a peer, stood for Parliament, had one son, and died before he was +forty, owing something over £20,000. The estate was then worth £7,000 +a year. Certain lands not lying either in Bragton or Mallingham were +sold, and that difficulty was surmounted, not without a considerable +diminution of income. In process of time the grandson, who was a +second John Morton, grew up and married, and became the father of a +third John Morton, the young man who afterwards became owner of the +property and Secretary of Legation at Washington. But the old squire +outlived his son and his grandson, and when he died had three or four +great-grandchildren playing about the lawns of Bragton Park. The +peer's daughter had lived, and had for many years drawn a dower from +the Bragton property, and had been altogether a very heavy +incumbrance.</p> + +<p>But the great trial of the old man's life, as also the great romance, +had arisen from the career of his second son, Reginald. Of all his +children, Reginald had been the dearest to him. He went to Oxford, +and had there spent much money; not as young men now spend money, but +still to an extent that had been grievous to the old squire. But +everything was always paid for Reginald. It was necessary, of course, +that he should have a profession, and he took a commission in the +army. As a young man he went to Canada. This was in 1829, when all +the world was at peace, and his only achievement in Canada was to +marry a young woman who is reported to have been pretty and good, but +who had no advantages either of fortune or birth. She was, indeed, +the daughter of a bankrupt innkeeper in Montreal. Soon after this he +sold out and brought his wife home to Bragton. It was at this period +of the squire's life that the romance spoken of occurred. John +Morton, the brother with the aristocratic wife, was ten or twelve +years older than Reginald, and at this time lived chiefly at Bragton +when he was not in town. He was, perhaps, justified in regarding +Bragton as almost belonging to him, knowing as he did that it must +belong to him after his father's lifetime, and to his son after him. +His anger against his brother was hot, and that of his wife still +hotter. He himself had squandered thousands, but then he was the +heir. Reginald, who was only a younger brother, had sold his +commission. And then he had done so much more than this! He had +married a woman who was not a lady! John was clearly of opinion that +at any rate the wife should not be admitted into Bragton House. The +old squire in those days was not a happy man; he had never been very +strong-minded, but now he was strong enough to declare that his +house-door should not be shut against a son of his,—or a son's wife, +as long as she was honest. Hereupon the Honourable Mrs. Morton took +her departure, and was never seen at Bragton again in the old +squire's time. Reginald Morton came to the house, and soon afterwards +another little Reginald was born at Bragton Park. This happened as +long ago as 1835, twenty years before the death of the old squire.</p> + +<p>But there had been another child, a daughter, who had come between +the two sons, still living in these days, who will become known to +any reader who will have patience to follow these pages to the end. +She married, not very early in life, a certain Sir William Ushant, +who was employed by his country in India and elsewhere, but who +found, soon after his marriage, that the service of his country +required that he should generally leave his wife at Bragton. As her +father had been for many years a widower, Lady Ushant became the +mistress of the house.</p> + +<p>But death was very busy with the Mortons. Almost every one died, +except the squire himself and his daughter, and that honourable +dowager, with her income and her pride who could certainly very well +have been spared. When at last, in 1855, the old squire went, full of +years, full of respect, but laden also with debts and money troubles, +not only had his son John, and his grandson John, gone before him, +but Reginald and his wife were both lying in Bragton Churchyard.</p> + +<p>The elder branch of the family, John the great-grandson, and his +little sisters, were at once taken away from Bragton by the +honourable grandmother. John, who was then about seven years old, was +of course the young squire, and was the owner of the property. The +dowager, therefore, did not undertake an altogether unprofitable +burden. Lady Ushant was left at the house, and with Lady Ushant, or +rather immediately subject to her care, young Reginald Morton, who +was then nineteen years of age, and who was about to go to Oxford. +But there immediately sprang up family lawsuits, instigated by the +honourable lady on behalf of her grandchildren, of which Reginald +Morton was the object. The old man had left certain outlying +properties to his grandson Reginald, of which Hoppet Hall was a part. +For eight or ten years the lawsuit was continued, and much money was +expended. Reginald was at last successful, and became the undoubted +owner of Hoppet Hall; but in the meantime he went to Germany for his +education, instead of to Oxford, and remained abroad even after the +matter was decided,—living, no one but Lady Ushant knew where, or +after what fashion.</p> + +<p>When the old squire died the children were taken away, and Bragton +was nearly deserted. The young heir was brought up with every +caution, and, under the auspices of his grandmother and her family, +behaved himself very unlike the old Mortons. He was educated at Eton, +after leaving which he was at once examined for Foreign Office +employment, and commenced his career with great éclat. He had been +made to understand clearly that it would be better that he should not +enter in upon his squirearchy early in life. The estate when he came +of age had already had some years to recover itself, and as he went +from capital to capital, he was quite content to draw from it an +income which enabled him to shine with peculiar brilliance among his +brethren. He had visited Bragton once since the old squire's death, +and had found the place very dull and uninviting. He had no ambition +whatever to be master of the U. R. U.; but did look forward to a time +when he might be Minister Plenipotentiary at some foreign court.</p> + +<p>For many years after the old man's death, Lady Ushant, who was then a +widow, was allowed to live at Bragton. She was herself childless, and +being now robbed of her great-nephews and nieces, took a little girl +to live with her, named Mary Masters. It was a very desolate house in +those days, but the old lady was careful as to the education of the +child, and did her best to make the home happy for her. Some two or +three years before the commencement of this story there arose a +difference between the manager of the property and Lady Ushant, and +she was made to understand, after some half-courteous manner, that +Bragton house and park would do better without her. There would be no +longer any cows kept, and painters must come into the house, and +there were difficulties about fuel. She was not turned out exactly; +but she went and established herself in lonely lodgings at +Cheltenham. Then Mary Masters, who had lived for more than a dozen +years at Bragton, went back to her father's house in Dillsborough.</p> + +<p>Any reader with an aptitude for family pedigrees will now understand +that Reginald, Master of Hoppet Hall, was first cousin to the father +of the Foreign Office paragon, and that he is therefore the paragon's +first cousin once removed. The relationship is not very distant, but +the two men, one of whom was a dozen years older than the other, had +not seen each other for more than twenty years,—at a time when one +of them was a big boy, and the other a very little one; and during +the greater part of that time a lawsuit had been carried on between +them in a very rigorous manner. It had done much to injure both, and +had created such a feeling of hostility that no intercourse of any +kind now existed between them.</p> + +<p>It does not much concern us to know how far back should be dated the +beginning of the connection between the Morton family and that of Mr. +Masters, the attorney; but it is certain that the first attorney of +that name in Dillsborough became learned in the law through the +patronage of some former Morton. The father of the present Gregory +Masters, and the grandfather, had been thoroughly trusted and +employed by old Reginald Morton, and the former of the two had made +his will. Very much of the stewardship and management of the property +had been in their hands, and they had thriven as honest men, but as +men with a tolerably sharp eye to their own interests. The late Mr. +Masters had died a few years before the squire, and the present +attorney had seemed to succeed to these family blessings. But the +whole order of things became changed. Within a few weeks of the +squire's death Mr. Masters found that he was to be entrusted no +further with the affairs of the property, but that, in lieu of such +care, was thrown upon him the task of defending the will which he had +made against the owner of the estate. His father and grandfather had +contrived between them to establish a fairly good business, +independently of Bragton, which business, of course, was now his. As +far as reading went, and knowledge, he was probably a better lawyer +than either of them; but he lacked their enterprise and special +genius, and the thing had dwindled with him. It seemed to him, +perhaps not unnaturally, that he had been robbed of an inheritance. +He had no title deeds, as had the owners of the property; but his +ancestors before him, from generation to generation, had lived by +managing the Bragton property. They had drawn the leases, and made +the wills, and collected the rents, and had taught themselves to +believe that a Morton could not live on his land without a Masters. +Now there was a Morton who did not live on his land, but spent his +rents elsewhere without the aid of any Masters, and it seemed to the +old lawyer that all the good things of the world had passed away. He +had married twice, his first wife having, before her marriage, been +well known at Bragton Park. When she had died, and Mr. Masters had +brought a second wife home, Lady Ushant took the only child of the +mother, whom she had known as a girl, into her own keeping, till she +also had been compelled to leave Bragton. Then Mary Masters had +returned to her father and stepmother.</p> + +<p>The Bragton Park residence is a large, old-fashioned, comfortable +house, but by no means a magnificent mansion. The greater part of it +was built one hundred and fifty years ago, and the rooms are small +and low. In the palmy days of his reign, which is now more than half +a century since, the old squire made alterations, and built new +stables and kennels, and put up a conservatory; but what he did then +has already become almost old-fashioned now. What he added he added +in stone, but the old house was brick. He was much abused at the time +for his want of taste, and heard a good deal about putting new cloth +as patches on old rents; but, as the shrubs and ivy have grown up, a +certain picturesqueness has come upon the place, which is greatly due +to the difference of material. The place is somewhat sombre, as there +is no garden close to the house. There is a lawn, at the back, with +gravel walks round it; but it is only a small lawn; and then divided +from the lawn by a ha-ha fence, is the park. The place, too, has that +sad look which always comes to a house from the want of a tenant. +Poor Lady Ushant, when she was there, could do little or nothing. A +gardener was kept, but there should have been three or four +gardeners. The man grew cabbages and onions, which he sold, but cared +nothing for the walks or borders. Whatever it may have been in the +old time, Bragton Park was certainly not a cheerful place when Lady +Ushant lived there. In the squire's time the park itself had always +been occupied by deer. Even when distress came he would not allow the +deer to be sold. But after his death they went very soon, and from +that day to the time of which I am writing, the park has been leased +to some butchers or graziers from Dillsborough.</p> + +<p>The ground hereabouts is nearly level, but it falls away a little and +becomes broken and pretty where the river Dill runs through the park, +about half a mile from the house. There is a walk called the +Pleasance, passing down through shrubs to the river, and then +crossing the stream by a foot-bridge, and leading across the fields +towards Dillsborough. This bridge is, perhaps, the prettiest spot in +Bragton, or, for that matter, anywhere in the county round; but even +here there is not much of beauty to be praised. It is here, on the +side of the river away from the house, that the home meet of the +hounds used to be held; and still the meet at Bragton Bridge is +popular in the county.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-3" id="c1-3"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> +<h3>THE MASTERS FAMILY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>At six o'clock one November evening, Mr. Masters, the attorney, was +sitting at home with his family in the large parlour of his house, +his office being on the other side of the passage which cut the house +in two and was formally called the hall. Upstairs, over the parlour, +was a drawing-room; but this chamber, which was supposed to be +elegantly furnished, was very rarely used. Mr. and Mrs. Masters did +not see much company, and for family purposes the elegance of the +drawing-room made it unfit. It added, however, not a little to the +glory of Mrs. Masters' life. The house itself was a low brick +building in the High Street, at the corner where the High Street runs +into the market-place, and therefore, nearly opposite to the Bush. It +had none of the elaborate grandeur of the inn nor of the simple +stateliness of Hoppet Hall, but, nevertheless, it maintained the +character of the town and was old, substantial, respectable, and +dark.</p> + +<p>"I think it a very spirited thing of him to do, then," said Mrs. +Masters.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, my dear. Perhaps it is only revenge."</p> + +<p>"What have you to do with that? What can it matter to a lawyer +whether it's revenge or anything else? He's got the means, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, my dear."</p> + +<p>"What does Nickem say?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he has the means," said Mr. Masters, who was aware that if +he told his wife a fib on the matter, she would learn the truth from +his senior clerk, Mr. Samuel Nickem. Among the professional gifts +which Mr. Masters possessed, had not been that great gift of being +able to keep his office and his family distinct from each other. His +wife always knew what was going on, and was very free with her +advice; generally tendering it on that side on which money was to be +made, and doing so with much feminine darkness as to right or wrong. +His clerk, Nickem, who was afflicted with no such darkness, but who +ridiculed the idea of scruple in an attorney, often took part against +him. It was the wish of his heart to get rid of Nickem; but Nickem +would have carried business with him and gone over to some enemy, or, +perhaps have set up in some irregular manner on his own bottom; and +his wife would have given him no peace had he done so, for she +regarded Nickem as the mainstay of the house.</p> + +<p>"What is Lord Rufford to you?" asked Mrs. Masters.</p> + +<p>"He has always been very friendly."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it at all. You have never had any of his money. I don't +know that you are a pound richer by him."</p> + +<p>"I have always gone with the gentry of the county."</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks! Gentry! Gentry are very well as long as you can make a +living out of them. You could afford to stick up for gentry till you +lost the Bragton property." This was a subject that was always sore +between Mr. Masters and his wife. The former Mrs. Masters had been a +lady—the daughter of a neighbouring clergyman; and had been much +considered by the family at Bragton. The present Mrs. Masters was the +daughter of an ironmonger at Norrington, who had brought a thousand +pounds with her, which had been very useful. No doubt Mr. Masters' +practice had been considerably affected by the lowliness of his +second marriage. People who used to know the first Mrs. Masters, such +as Mrs. Mainwaring, and the doctor's wife, and old Mrs. Cooper, the +wife of the vicar of Mallingham, would not call on the second Mrs. +Masters. As Mrs. Masters was too high-spirited to run after people +who did not want her, she took to hating gentry instead.</p> + +<p>"We have always been on the other side," said the old attorney,—"I +and my father and grandfather before me."</p> + +<p>"They lived on it and you can't. If you are going to say that you +won't have any client that isn't a gentleman, you might as well put +up your shutters at once."</p> + +<p>"I haven't said so. Isn't Runciman my client?"</p> + +<p>"He always goes with the gentry. He a'most thinks he's one of them +himself."</p> + +<p>"And old Nobbs, the greengrocer. But it's all nonsense. Any man is my +client, or any woman, who can come and pay me for business that is +fit for me to do."</p> + +<p>"Why isn't this fit to be done? If the man's been damaged, why +shouldn't he be paid?"</p> + +<p>"He's had money offered him."</p> + +<p>"If he thinks it ain't enough, who's to say that it is,—unless a +jury?" said Mrs. Masters, becoming quite eloquent. "And how's a poor +man to get a jury to say that, unless he comes to a lawyer? Of +course, if you won't have it, he'll go to Bearside. Bearside won't +turn him away." Bearside was another attorney, an interloper of about +ten years' standing, whose name was odious to Mr. Masters.</p> + +<p>"You don't know anything about it, my dear," said he, aroused at last +to anger.</p> + +<p>"I know you're letting anybody who likes take the bread out of the +children's mouths." The children, so called, were sitting round the +table and could not but take an interest in the matter. The eldest +was that Mary Masters, the daughter of the former wife, whom Lady +Ushant had befriended, a tall girl, with dark brown hair, so dark as +almost to be black, and large, soft, thoughtful grey eyes. We shall +have much to say of Mary Masters, and can hardly stop to give an +adequate description of her here. The others were Dolly and Kate, two +girls aged sixteen and fifteen. The two younger "children" were +eating bread and butter and jam in a very healthy manner, but still +had their ears wide open to the conversation that was being held. The +two younger girls sympathised strongly with their mother. Mary, who +had known much about the Mortons, and was old enough to understand +the position which her grandfather had held in reference to the +family, of course leaned in her heart to her father's side. But she +was wiser than her father, and knew that in such discussions her +mother often showed a worldly wisdom which, in their present +circumstances, they could hardly afford to disregard, unpalatable +though it might be.</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters disliked these discussions altogether, but he disliked +them most of all in presence of his children. He looked round upon +them in a deprecatory manner, making a slight motion with his hand +and bringing his head down on one side, and then he gave a long sigh. +If it was his intention to convey some subtle warning to his wife, +some caution that she alone should understand, he was deceived. The +"children" all knew what he meant quite as well as did their mother.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go out, mamma?" asked Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Finish your teas, my dears," said Mr. Masters, who wished to stop +the discussion rather than to carry it on before a more select +audience.</p> + +<p>"You've got to make up your mind to-night," said Mrs. Masters, "and +you'll be going over to the Bush at eight."</p> + +<p>"No, I needn't. He is to come on Monday. I told Nickem I wouldn't see +him to-night; nor, of course, to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Then he'll go to Bearside."</p> + +<p>"He may go to Bearside and be ——! Oh, Lord! +I do wish you'd let me +drop the business for a few minutes when I am in here. You don't know +anything about it. How should you?"</p> + +<p>"I know that if I didn't speak you'd let everything slip through your +fingers. There's Mr. Twentyman. Kate, open the door."</p> + +<p>Kate, who was fond of Mr. Twentyman, rushed up and opened the front +door at once. In saying so much of Kate, I do not mean it to be +understood that any precocious ideas of love were troubling that +young lady's bosom. Kate Masters was a jolly bouncing schoolgirl of +fifteen, who was not too proud to eat toffy, and thought herself +still a child. But she was very fond of Lawrence Twentyman, who had a +pony that she could ride, and who was always good-natured to her. All +the family liked Mr. Twentyman,—unless it might be Mary, who was the +one that he specially liked himself. And Mary was not altogether +averse to him, knowing him to be good-natured, manly, and +straightforward. But Mr. Twentyman had proposed to her, and she +had—certainly not accepted him. This, however, had broken none of +the family friendship. Every one in the house, unless it might be +Mary herself, hoped that Mr. Twentyman might prevail at last. The man +was worth six or seven hundred a year, and had a good house, and owed +no one a shilling. He was handsome, and about the best-tempered +fellow known. Of course they all desired that he should prevail with +Mary. "I wish that I were old enough, Larry, that's all!" Kate had +said to him once, laughing. "I wouldn't have you, if you were ever so +old," Larry had replied; "you'd want to be out hunting every day." +That will show the sort of terms that Larry was on with his friend +Kate. He called at the house every Saturday with the declared object +of going over to the club that was held that evening in the parlour +at the Bush, whither Mr. Masters also always went. It was understood +at home that Mr. Masters should attend this club every Saturday from +eight till eleven, but that he was not at any other time to give way +to the fascinations of the Bush. On this occasion, and we may say on +almost every Saturday night, Mr. Twentyman arrived a full hour before +the appointed time. The reason of his doing so was of course well +understood, and was quite approved by Mrs. Masters. She was not, at +any rate as yet, a cruel stepmother; but still, if the girl could be +transferred to so eligible a home as that which Mr. Twentyman could +give her, it would be well for all parties.</p> + +<p>When he took his seat he did not address himself specially to the +lady of his love. I don't know how a gentleman is to do so in the +presence of her father, and mother, and sisters. Saturday after +Saturday he probably thought that some occasion would arise; but, if +his words could have been counted, it would have been found that he +addressed fewer to her than to any one in the room.</p> + +<p>"Larry," said his special friend Kate, "am I to have the pony at the +Bridge meet?"</p> + +<p>"How very free you are, Miss!" said her mother.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Larry. "When is there to be a meet at +the Bridge? I haven't heard."</p> + +<p>"But I have. Tony Tuppett told me that they would be there this day +fortnight." Tony Tuppett was the huntsman of the U. R. U.</p> + +<p>"That's more than Tony can know. He may have guessed it."</p> + +<p>"Shall I have the pony if he has guessed right?"</p> + +<p>Then the pony was promised; and Kate, trusting in Tony Tuppett's +sagacity, was happy.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard of all this about Dillsborough Wood?" asked Mrs. +Masters. The attorney shrank at the question, and shook himself +uneasily in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I've heard about it," said Larry.</p> + +<p>"And what do you think about it? I don't see why Lord Rufford is to +ride over everybody because he's a lord." Mr. Twentyman scratched his +head. Though a keen sportsman himself, he did not specially like Lord +Rufford,—a fact which had been very well known to Mrs. Masters. But, +nevertheless, this threatened action against the nobleman was +distasteful to him. It was not a hunting affair, or Mr. Twentyman +could not have doubted for a moment. It was a shooting difficulty, +and as Mr. Twentyman had never been asked to fire a gun on the +Rufford preserves, it was no great sorrow to him that there should be +such a difficulty. But the thing threatened was an attack upon the +country gentry and their amusements, and Mr. Twentyman was a country +gentleman who followed sport. Upon the whole his sympathies were with +Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"The man is an utter blackguard, you know," said Larry. "Last year he +threatened to shoot the foxes in Dillsborough Wood."</p> + +<p>"No!" said Kate, quite horrified.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid he's a bad sort of fellow all round," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why he shouldn't claim what he thinks due to him," said +Mrs. Masters.</p> + +<p>"I'm told that his lordship offered him seven-and-six an acre for the +whole of the two fields," said the gentleman-farmer.</p> + +<p>"Goarly declares," said Mrs. Masters, "that the pheasants didn't +leave him four bushels of wheat to the acre."</p> + +<p>Goarly was the man who had proposed himself as a client to Mr. +Masters, and who was desirous of claiming damages to the amount of +forty shillings an acre for injury done to the crops on two fields +belonging to himself which lay adjacent to Dillsborough Wood, a +covert belonging to Lord Rufford, about four miles from the town, in +which both pheasants and foxes were preserved with great care.</p> + +<p>"Has Goarly been to you?" asked Twentyman.</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters nodded his head. "That's just it," said Mrs. Masters. "I +don't see why a man isn't to go to law if he pleases—that is, if he +can afford to pay for it. I have nothing to say against gentlemen's +sport; but I do say that they should run the same chance as others. +And I say it's a shame if they're to band themselves together and +make the county too hot to hold any one as doesn't like to have his +things ridden over, and his crops devoured, and his fences knocked to +Jericho. I think there's a deal of selfishness in sport and a deal of +tyranny."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Masters!" exclaimed Larry.</p> + +<p>"Well, I do. And if a poor man,—or a man whether he's poor or no," +added Mrs. Masters, correcting herself, as she thought of the money +which this man ought to have in order that he might pay for his +lawsuit,—"thinks hisself injured, it's nonsense to tell me that +nobody should take up his case. It's just as though the butcher +wouldn't sell a man a leg of mutton because Lord Rufford had a spite +against him. Who's Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody knows that I care very little for his lordship," said Mr. +Twentyman.</p> + +<p>"Nor I; and I don't see why Gregory should. If Goarly isn't entitled +to what he wants he won't get it; that's all. But let it be tried +fairly."</p> + +<p>Hereupon Mr. Masters took up his hat and left the room, and Mr. +Twentyman followed him, not having yet expressed any positive opinion +on the delicate matter submitted to his judgment. Of course, Goarly +was a brute. Had he not threatened to shoot foxes? But, then, an +attorney must live by lawsuits, and it seemed to Mr. Twentyman that +an attorney should not stop to inquire whether a new client is a +brute or not.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-4" id="c1-4"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> +<h3>THE DILLSBOROUGH CLUB.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The club, so called at Dillsborough, was held every Saturday evening +in a back parlour at the Bush, and was attended generally by seven or +eight members. It was a very easy club. There was no balloting, and +no other expense attending it other than that of paying for the +liquor which each man chose to drink. Sometimes, about ten o'clock, +there was a little supper, the cost of which was defrayed by +subscription among those who partook of it. It was one rule of the +club, or a habit, rather, which had grown to be a rule, that Mr. +Runciman might introduce into it any one he pleased. I do not know +that a similar privilege was denied to any one else; but as Mr. +Runciman had a direct pecuniary advantage in promoting the club, the +new-comers were generally ushered in by him. When the attorney and +Twentyman entered the room Mr. Runciman was seated as usual in an +arm-chair at the corner of the fire nearest to the door, with the +bell at his right hand. He was a hale, good-looking man about fifty, +with black hair, now turning grey at the edges, and a clean-shorn +chin. He had a pronounced strong face of his own, one capable of +evincing anger and determination when necessary, but equally apt for +smiles or, on occasion, for genuine laughter. He was a masterful but +a pleasant man, very civil to customers and to his friends generally +while they took him the right way; but one who could be a Tartar if +he were offended, holding an opinion that his position as landlord of +an inn was one requiring masterdom. And his wife was like him in +everything,—except in this, that she always submitted to him. He was +a temperate man in the main; but on Saturday nights he would become +jovial, and sometimes a little quarrelsome. When this occurred the +club would generally break itself up and go home to bed, not in the +least offended. Indeed Mr. Runciman was the tyrant of the club, +though it was held at his house expressly with the view of putting +money into his pocket. Opposite to his seat was another +arm-chair,—not so big as Mr. Runciman's, but still a soft and easy +chair,—which was always left for the attorney. For Mr. Masters was a +man much respected through all Dillsborough, partly on his own +account, but more perhaps for the sake of his father and grandfather. +He was a round-faced, clean-shorn man, with straggling grey hair, who +always wore black clothes and a white cravat. There was something in +his appearance which recommended him among his neighbours, who were +disposed to say he "looked the gentleman;" but a stranger might have +thought his cheeks to be flabby and his mouth to be weak.</p> + +<p>Making a circle, or the beginning of a circle, round the fire, were +Nupper, the doctor,—a sporting old bachelor doctor who had the +reputation of riding after the hounds in order that he might be ready +for broken bones and minor accidents; next to him, in another +arm-chair, facing the fire, was Ned Botsey, the younger of the two +brewers from Norrington, who was in the habit during the hunting +season of stopping from Saturday to Monday at the Bush, partly +because the Rufford hounds hunted on Saturday and Monday and on those +days seldom met in the Norrington direction, and partly because he +liked the sporting conversation of the Dillsborough Club. He was a +little man, very neat in his attire, who liked to be above his +company, and fancied that he was so in Mr. Runciman's parlour. +Between him and the attorney's chair was Harry Stubbings, from +Stanton Corner, the man who let out hunters, and whom Twentyman had +threatened to thrash. His introduction to the club had taken place +lately, not without some opposition; but Runciman had set his foot +upon that, saying that it was "all +<span class="nowrap">d——</span> nonsense." He had prevailed, +and Twentyman had consented to meet the man; but there was no great +friendship between them. Seated back on the sofa was Mr. Ribbs, the +butcher, who was allowed into the society as being a specially modest +man. His modesty, perhaps, did not hinder him in an affair of sheep +or bullocks, nor yet in the collection of his debts; but at the club +he understood his position, and rarely opened his mouth to speak. +When Twentyman followed the attorney into the room there was a vacant +chair between Mr. Botsey and Harry Stubbings; but he would not get +into it, preferring to seat himself on the table at Botsey's right +hand.</p> + +<p>"So Goarly was with you, Mr. Masters," Mr. Runciman began as soon as +the attorney was seated. It was clear that they had all been talking +about Goarly and his law-suit, and that Goarly and the law-suit would +be talked about very generally in Dillsborough.</p> + +<p>"He was over at my place this evening," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to take his case up for him, Mr. Masters?" said +young Botsey. "We expect something better from you than that."</p> + +<p>Now Ned Botsey was rather an impudent young man, and Mr. Masters, +though he was mild enough at home, did not like impudence from the +world at large. "I suppose, Mr. Botsey," said he, "that if Goarly +were to go to you for a barrel of beer you'd sell it to him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I should or not. I dare say my people would. +But that's a different thing."</p> + +<p>"I don't see any difference at all. You're not very particular as to +your customers, and I don't ask you any questions about them. Ring +the bell, Runciman, please." The bell was rung, and the two +new-comers ordered their liquor.</p> + +<p>It was quite right that Ned Botsey should be put down. Every one in +the room felt that. But there was something in the attorney's tone +which made the assembled company feel that he had undertaken Goarly's +case; whereas, in the opinion of the company, Goarly was a scoundrel +with whom Mr. Masters should have had nothing to do. The attorney had +never been a sporting man himself, but he had always been, as it +were, on that side.</p> + +<p>"Goarly is a great fool for his pains," said the doctor. "He has had +a very fair offer made him, and, first or last, it'll cost him forty +pounds."</p> + +<p>"He has got it into his head," said the landlord, "that he can sue +Lord Rufford for his fences. Lord Rufford is not answerable for his +fences."</p> + +<p>"It's the loss of crop he's going for," said Twentyman.</p> + +<p>"How can there be pheasants to that amount in Dillsborough Wood," +continued the landlord, "when everybody knows that foxes breed there +every year? There isn't a surer find for a fox in the whole county. +Everybody knows that Lord Rufford never lets his game stand in the +way of foxes."</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford was Mr. Runciman's great friend and patron and best +customer, and not a word against Lord Rufford was allowed in that +room, though elsewhere in Dillsborough ill-natured things were +sometimes said of his lordship. Then there came on that well-worn +dispute among sportsmen, whether foxes and pheasants are or are not +pleasant companions to each other. Every one was agreed that, if not, +then the pheasants should suffer, and that any country gentleman who +allowed his gamekeeper to entrench on the privileges of foxes in +order that pheasants might be more abundant, was a "brute" and a +"beast," and altogether unworthy to live in England. Larry Twentyman +and Ned Botsey expressed an opinion that pheasants were predominant +in Dillsborough Wood, while Mr. Runciman, the doctor, and Harry +Stubbings declared loudly that everything that foxes could desire was +done for them in that Elysium of sport.</p> + +<p>"We drew the wood blank last time we were there," said Larry. "Don't +you remember, Mr. Runciman, about the end of last March?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I remember," said the landlord. "Just the end of the +season, when two vixens had litters in the wood! You don't suppose +Bean was going to let that old butcher, Tony, find a fox in +Dillsborough at that time." Bean was his lordship's head gamekeeper +in that part of the country. "How many foxes had we found there +during the season?"</p> + +<p>"Two or three," suggested Botsey.</p> + +<p>"Seven!" said the energetic landlord; "seven, including +cub-hunting,—and killed four! If you kill four foxes out of an +eighty-acre wood, and have two litters at the end of the season, I +don't think you have much to complain of."</p> + +<p>"If they all did as well as Lord Rufford, you'd have more foxes than +you'd know what to do with," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>Then this branch of the conversation was ended by a bet of a new hat +between Botsey and the landlord as to the finding of a fox in +Dillsborough Wood when it should next be drawn; as to which, when the +speculation was completed, Harry Stubbings offered Mr. Runciman ten +shillings down for his side of the bargain.</p> + +<p>But all this did not divert the general attention from the important +matter of Goarly's attack. "Let it be how it will," said Mr. +Runciman, "a fellow like that should be put down." He did not address +himself specially to Mr. Masters, but that gentleman felt that he was +being talked at.</p> + +<p>"Certainly he ought," said Dr. Nupper. "If he didn't feel satisfied +with what his lordship offered him, why couldn't he ask his lordship +to refer the matter to a couple of farmers who understood it?"</p> + +<p>"It's the spirit of the thing," said Mr. Ribbs, from his place on the +sofa. "It's a hodious spirit."</p> + +<p>"That's just it, Mr. Ribbs," said Harry Stubbings. "It's all meant +for opposition. Whether it's shooting or whether it's hunting, it's +all one. Such a chap oughtn't to be allowed to have land. I'd take it +away from him by Act of Parliament. It's such as him as is destroying +the country."</p> + +<p>"There ain't many of them hereabouts, thank God!" said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Twentyman," said Stubbings, who was anxious to make friends +with the gentleman-farmer, "you know what land can do, and what land +has done, as well as any man. What would you say was the real damage +done to them two wheat-fields by his lordship's game last autumn? You +saw the crops as they were growing, and you know what came off the +land."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't like to say."</p> + +<p>"But if you were on your oath, Mr. Twentyman? Was there more than +seven-and-sixpence an acre lost?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor five shillings," said Runciman.</p> + +<p>"I think Goarly ought to take his lordship's offer—if you mean +that," said Twentyman.</p> + +<p>Then there was a pause, during which more drink was brought in, and +pipes were re-lighted. Everybody wished that Mr. Masters might be got +to say that he would not take the case, but there was a delicacy +about asking him. "If I remember right he was in Rufford Gaol once," +said Runciman.</p> + +<p>"He was let out on bail and then the matter was hushed up somehow," +said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"It was something about a woman," continued Runciman. "I know that on +that occasion he came out an awful scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember," asked Botsey, "how he used to walk up and down +the covert-side with a gun, two years ago, swearing he would shoot +the fox if he broke over his land?"</p> + +<p>"I heard him say it, Botsey," said Twentyman.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't have been the first fox he's murdered," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Not by many," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"You remember that old woman near my place?" said Stubbings. "It was +he that put her up to tell all them lies about her turkeys. I ran it +home to him! A blackguard like that! Nobody ought to take him up."</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't, Mr. Masters," said the doctor. The doctor was as +old as the attorney, and had known him for many years. No one else +could dare to ask the question.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose I shall, Nupper," said the attorney from his chair. +It was the first word he had spoken since he had put down young +Botsey. "It wouldn't just suit me; but a man has to judge of those +things for himself."</p> + +<p>Then there was a general rejoicing, and Mr. Runciman stood broiled +bones, and ham and eggs, and bottled stout for the entire club; one +unfortunate effect of which unwonted conviviality was that Mr. +Masters did not get home till near twelve o'clock. That was sure to +cause discomfort; and then he had pledged himself to decline Goarly's +business.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-5" id="c1-5"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> +<h3>REGINALD MORTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>We will now go back to Hoppet Hall and its inhabitants. When the old +squire died he left by his will Hoppet Hall and certain other houses +in Dillsborough, which was all that he could leave, to his grandson +Reginald Morton. Then there arose a question whether this property +also was not entailed. The former Mr. Masters, and our friend of the +present day, had been quite certain of the squire's power to do what +he liked with it; but others had been equally certain on the other +side, and there had been a lawsuit. During that time Reginald Morton +had been forced to live on a very small allowance. His aunt, Lady +Ushant, had done what little she could for him, but it had been felt +to be impossible that he should remain at Bragton, which was the +property of the cousin who was at law with him. From the moment of +his birth the Honourable Mrs. Morton, who was also his aunt by +marriage, had been his bitter enemy. He was the son of an innkeeper's +daughter, and according to her theory of life, should never even have +been noticed by the real Mortons. And this honourable old lady was +almost equally adverse to Lady Ushant, whose husband had simply been +a knight, and who had left nothing behind him. Thus Reginald Morton +had been friendless since his grandfather died, and had lived in +Germany, nobody quite knew how. During the entire period of this +law-suit Hoppet Hall had remained untenanted.</p> + +<p>When the property was finally declared to belong to Reginald Morton, +the Hall, before it could be used, required considerable repair. But +there was other property. The Bush Inn belonged to Reginald Morton, +as did the house in which Mr. Masters lived, and sundry other smaller +tenements in the vicinity. There was an income from these of about +five hundred pounds a year. Reginald, who was then nearly thirty +years of age, came over to England, and stayed for a month or two at +Bragton with his aunt, to the infinite chagrin of the old dowager. +The management of the town property was entrusted to Mr. Masters, and +Hoppet Hall was repaired. At this period Mr. Mainwaring had just come +to Dillsborough, and having a wife with some money and perhaps quite +as much pretension, had found the rectory too small, and had taken +the Hall on a lease for seven years. When this was arranged Reginald +Morton again went to Germany, and did not return till the lease had +run out. By that time Mr. Mainwaring, having spent a little money, +found that the rectory would be large enough for his small family. +Then the Hall was again untenanted for awhile, till, quite suddenly, +Reginald Morton returned to Dillsborough, and took up his permanent +residence in his own house.</p> + +<p>It soon became known that the new-comer would not add much to the +gaiety of the place. The only people whom he knew in Dillsborough +were his own tenants, Mr. Runciman and Mr. Masters, and the +attorney's eldest daughter. During those months which he had spent +with Lady Ushant at Bragton, Mary had been living there, then a child +of twelve years old; and, as a child, had become his fast friend. +With his aunt he had continually corresponded, and partly at her +instigation, and partly from feelings of his own, he had at once gone +to the attorney's house. This was now two years since, and he had +found in his old playmate a beautiful young woman, in his opinion +very unlike the people with whom she lived. For the first +twelvemonths he saw her occasionally,—though not indeed very often. +Once or twice he had drunk tea at the attorney's house, on which +occasions the drawing-room upstairs had been almost as grand as it +was uncomfortable. Then the attentions of Larry Twentyman began to +make themselves visible, infinitely to Reginald Morton's disgust. Up +to that time he had no idea of falling in love with the girl himself. +Since he had begun to think on such subjects at all he had made up +his mind that he would not marry. He was almost the more proud of his +birth by his father's side, because he had been made to hear so much +of his mother's low position. He had told himself a hundred times +that under no circumstances could he marry any other than a lady of +good birth. But his own fortune was small, and he knew himself well +enough to be sure that he would not marry for money. He was now +nearly forty years of age and had never yet been thrown into the +society of any one that had attracted him. He was sure that he would +not marry. And yet when he saw that Mr. Twentyman was made much of +and flattered by the whole Masters family, apparently because he was +regarded as an eligible husband for Mary, Reginald Morton was not +only disgusted, but personally offended. Being a most unreasonable +man he conceived a bitter dislike to poor Larry, who, at any rate, +was truly in love, and was not looking too high in desiring to marry +the portionless daughter of the attorney. But Morton thought that the +man ought to be kicked and horsewhipped, or, at any rate, banished +into some speechless exile for his presumption.</p> + +<p>With Mr. Runciman he had dealings, and in some sort friendship. There +were two meadows attached to Hoppet Hall,—fields lying close to the +town, which were very suitable for the landlord's purposes. Mr. +Mainwaring had held them in his own hands, taking them up from Mr. +Runciman, who had occupied them while the house was untenanted, in a +manner which induced Mr. Runciman to feel that it was useless to go +to church to hear such sermons as those preached by the rector. But +Morton had restored the fields, giving them rent free, on condition +that he should be supplied with milk and butter. Mr. Runciman, no +doubt, had the best of the bargain, as he generally had in all +bargains; but he was a man who liked to be generous when generously +treated. Consequently he almost overdid his neighbour with butter and +cream, and occasionally sent in quarters of lamb and sweetbreads to +make up the weight. I don't know that the offerings were particularly +valued; but friendship was engendered. Runciman, too, had his grounds +for quarrelling with those who had taken up the management of the +Bragton property after the squire's death, and had his own antipathy +to the Honourable Mrs. Morton and her grandson, the Secretary of +Legation. When the law-suit was going on he had been altogether on +Reginald Morton's side. It was an affair of sides, and quite natural +that Runciman and the attorney should be friendly with the new-comer +at Hoppet Hall, though there were very few points of personal +sympathy between them.</p> + +<p>Reginald Morton was no sportsman, nor was he at all likely to become +a member of the Dillsborough Club. It was currently reported of him +in the town that he had never sat on a horse or fired off a gun. As +he had been brought up as a boy by the old squire this was probably +an exaggeration, but it is certain that at this period of his life he +had given up any aptitudes in that direction for which his early +training might have suited him. He had brought back with him to +Hoppet Hall many cases of books which the ignorance of Dillsborough +had magnified into an enormous library, and he was certainly a +sedentary, reading man. There was already a report in the town that +he was engaged in some stupendous literary work, and the men and +women generally looked upon him as a disagreeable marvel of learning. +Dillsborough of itself was not bookish, and would have regarded any +one known to have written an article in a magazine almost as a +phenomenon.</p> + +<p>He seldom went to church, much to the sorrow of Mr. Surtees, who +ventured to call at the house and remonstrate with him. He never +called again. And though it was the habit of Mr. Surtees' life to +speak as little ill as possible of any one, he was not able to say +any good of Mr. Morton. Mr. Mainwaring, who would never have troubled +himself though his parishioner had not entered a place of worship +once in a twelvemonth, did say many severe things against his former +landlord. He hated people who were unsocial and averse to dining out, +and who departed from the ways of living common among English country +gentlemen. Mr. Mainwaring was, upon the whole, prepared to take the +other side.</p> + +<p>Reginald Morton, though he was now nearly forty, was a young-looking, +handsome man, with fair hair, cut short, and a light beard, which was +always clipped. Though his mother had been an innkeeper's daughter in +Montreal he had the Morton blue eyes and the handsome well-cut Morton +nose. He was nearly six feet high, and strongly made, and was known +to be a much finer man than the Secretary of Legation, who was rather +small, and supposed to be not very robust.</p> + +<p>Our lonely man was a great walker, and had investigated every lane +and pathway, and almost every hedge within ten miles of Dillsborough +before he had resided there two years; but his favourite rambles were +all in the neighbourhood of Bragton. As there was no one living in +the house,—no one but the old housekeeper who had lived there +always,—he was able to wander about the place as he pleased. On the +Tuesday afternoon, after the meeting of the Dillsborough Club which +has been recorded, he was seated, about three o'clock, on the rail of +the foot-bridge over the Dill, with a long German pipe hanging from +his mouth. He was noted throughout the whole country for this pipe, +or for others like it, such a one usually being in his mouth as he +wandered about. The amount of tobacco which he had smoked since his +return to these parts, exactly in that spot, was considerable, for +there he might have been found at some period of the afternoon at +least three times a week. He would sit on this rail for half an hour +looking down at the sluggish waters of the little river, rolling the +smoke out of his mouth at long intervals, and thinking perhaps of the +great book which he was supposed to be writing. As he sat there now, +he suddenly heard voices and laughter, and presently three girls came +round the corner of the hedge, which, at this spot, hid the +Dillsborough path,—and he saw the attorney's three daughters.</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Morton," said Dolly in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"He's always walking about Bragton," said Kate in another whisper. +"Tony Tuppett says that he's the Bragton ghost."</p> + +<p>"Kate," said Mary, also in a low voice, "you shouldn't talk so much +about what you hear from Tony Tuppett."</p> + +<p>"Bosh!" said Kate, who knew that she could not be scolded in the +presence of Mr. Morton.</p> + +<p>He came forward and shook hands with them all, and took off his hat +to Mary. "You've walked a long way, Miss Masters," he said.</p> + +<p>"We don't think it far. I like sometimes to come and look at the old +place."</p> + +<p>"And so do I. I wonder whether you remember how often I've sat you on +this rail and threatened to throw you into the river?"</p> + +<p>"I remember very well that you did threaten me once, and that I +almost believed that you would throw me in."</p> + +<p>"What had she done that was naughty, Mr. Morton?" asked Kate.</p> + +<p>"I don't think she ever did anything naughty in those days. I don't +know whether she has changed for the worse since."</p> + +<p>"Mary is never naughty now," said Dolly. "Kate and I are naughty, and +it's very much better fun than being good."</p> + +<p>"The world has found out that long ago, Miss Dolly; only the world is +not quite so candid in owning it as you are. Will you come and walk +round the house, Miss Masters? I never go in, but I have no scruples +about the paths and park."</p> + +<p>At the end of the bridge leading into the shrubbery there was a +stile, high indeed, but made commodiously with steps, almost like a +double staircase, so that ladies could pass it without trouble. Mary +had given her assent to the proposed walk, and was in the act of +putting out her hand to be helped over the stile, when Mr. Twentyman +appeared at the other side of it.</p> + +<p>"If here isn't Larry!" said Kate.</p> + +<p>Morton's face turned as black as thunder, but he immediately went +back across the bridge, leading Mary with him. The other girls, who +had followed him on to the bridge, had of course to go back also. +Mary was made very unhappy by the meeting. Mr. Morton would of course +think that it had been planned, whereas by Mary herself it had been +altogether unexpected. Kate, when the bridge was free, rushed over it +and whispered something to Larry. The meeting had indeed been planned +between her and Dolly and the lover, and this special walk had been +taken at the request of the two younger girls.</p> + +<p>Morton stood stock still, as though he expected that Twentyman would +pass by. Larry hurried over the bridge, feeling sure that the meeting +with Morton had been accidental and thinking that he would pass on +towards the house.</p> + +<p>Larry was not at all ashamed of his purpose, nor was he inclined to +give way and pass on. He came up boldly to his love, and shook hands +with her with a pleasant smile. "If you are walking back to +Dillsborough," he said, "maybe you'll let me go a little way with +you?"</p> + +<p>"I was going round the house with Mr. Morton," she said timidly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I can join you?" said he, bobbing his head at the other man.</p> + +<p>"If you intended to walk back with Mr. Twentyman—," began Morton.</p> + +<p>"But I didn't," said the poor girl, who in truth understood more of +it all than did either of the two men. "I didn't expect him, and I +didn't expect you. It's a pity I can't go both ways, isn't it?" she +added, attempting to appear cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Come back, Mary," said Kate; "we've had walking enough, and shall be +awfully tired before we get home."</p> + +<p>Mary had thought that she would like extremely to go round the house +with her old friend and have a hundred incidents of her early life +called to her memory. The meeting with Reginald Morton had been +altogether pleasant to her. She had often felt how much she would +have liked it had the chance of her life enabled her to see more +frequently one whom as a child she had so intimately known. But at +the moment she lacked the courage to walk boldly across the bridge, +and thus to rid herself of Lawrence Twentyman. She had already +perceived that Morton's manner had rendered it impossible that her +lover should follow them. "I am afraid I must go home," she said. It +was the very thing she did not want to do,—this going home with +Lawrence Twentyman; and yet she herself said that she must do +it,—driven to say so by a nervous dread of showing herself to be +fond of the other man's company.</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon to you," said Morton very gloomily, waving his hat +and stalking across the bridge.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-6" id="c1-6"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> +<h3>NOT IN LOVE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Reginald Morton, as he walked across the bridge towards the house, +was thoroughly disgusted with all the world. He was very angry with +himself, feeling that he had altogether made a fool of himself by his +manner. He had shown himself to be offended, not only by Mr. +Twentyman, but by Miss Masters also, and he was well aware, as he +thought of it all, that neither of them had given him any cause of +offence. If she chose to make an appointment for a walk with Mr. +Lawrence Twentyman and to keep it, what was that to him? His anger +was altogether irrational, and he knew that it was so. What right had +he to have an opinion about it if Mary Masters should choose to like +the society of Mr. Twentyman? It was an affair between her and her +father and mother in which he could have no interest; and yet he had +not only taken offence, but was well aware that he had shown his +feeling.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as to the girl herself, he could not argue himself out +of his anger. It was grievous to him that he should have gone out of +his way to ask her to walk with him just at the moment when she was +expecting this vulgar lover,—for that she had expected him he felt +no doubt. Yet he had heard her disclaim any intention of walking with +the man! But girls are sly, especially when their lovers are +concerned. It made him sore at heart to feel that this girl should be +sly, and doubly sore to think that she should have been able to love +such a one as Lawrence Twentyman.</p> + +<p>As he roamed about among the grounds this idea troubled him much. He +assured himself that he was not in love with her himself, and that he +had no idea of falling in love with her; but it sickened him to think +that a girl who had been brought up by his aunt, who had been loved +at Bragton, whom he had liked, who looked so like a lady, should put +herself on a par with such a wretch as that. In all this he was most +unjust to both of them. He was specially unjust to poor Larry, who +was by no means a wretch. His costume was not that to which Morton +had been accustomed in Germany, nor would it have passed without +notice in Bond Street. But it was rational and clean. When he came to +the bridge to meet his sweetheart he had on a dark-green shooting +coat, a billicock hat, brown breeches, and gaiters nearly up to his +knees. I don't know that a young man in the country could wear more +suitable attire. And he was a well-made man,—just such a one as, in +this dress, would take the eye of a country girl. There was a little +bit of dash about him,—just a touch of swagger,—which better +breeding might have prevented. But it was not enough to make him +odious to an unprejudiced observer. I could fancy that an old lady +from London, with an eye in her head for manly symmetry, would have +liked to look at Larry, and would have thought that a girl in Mary's +position would be happy in having such a lover, providing that his +character was good and his means adequate. But Reginald Morton was +not an old woman, and to his eyes the smart young farmer with his +billicock hat, not quite straight on his head, was an odious thing to +behold. He exaggerated the swagger, and took no notice whatever of +the well-made limbs. And then this man had proposed to accompany him, +had wanted to join his party, had thought it possible that a +flirtation might be carried on in his presence! He sincerely hated +the man. But what was he to think of such a girl as Mary Masters when +she could bring herself to like the attentions of such a lover?</p> + +<p>He was very cross with himself because he knew how unreasonable was +his anger. Of one thing only could he assure himself,—that he would +never again willingly put himself in Mary's company. What was +Dillsborough and the ways of its inhabitants to him? Why should he so +far leave the old fashions of his life as to fret himself about an +attorney's daughter in a little English town? And yet he did fret +himself, walking rapidly, and smoking his pipe a great deal quicker +than was his custom.</p> + +<p>When he was about to return home he passed the front of the house, +and there, standing at the open door, he saw Mrs. Hopkins, the +housekeeper, who had in truth been waiting for him. He said a +good-natured word to her, intending to make his way on without +stopping, but she called him back. "Have you heard the news, Mr. +Reginald?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I haven't heard any news this twelvemonth," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Laws, that is so like you, Mr. Reginald. The young squire is to be +here next week."</p> + +<p>"Who is the young squire? I didn't know there was any squire now."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Reginald!"</p> + +<p>"A squire as I take it, Mrs. Hopkins, is a country gentleman who +lives on his own property. Since my grandfather's time no such +gentleman has lived at Bragton."</p> + +<p>"That's true, too, Mr. Reginald. Any way Mr. Morton is coming down +next week."</p> + +<p>"I thought he was in America."</p> + +<p>"He has come home, for a turn like,—and is staying up in town with +the old lady." The old lady always meant the Honourable Mrs. Morton.</p> + +<p>"And is the old lady coming down with him?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy she is, Mr. Reginald. He didn't say as much, but only that +there would be three or four,—a couple of ladies he said, and +perhaps more. So I am getting the east bedroom, with the +dressing-room, and the blue room for her ladyship." People about +Bragton had been accustomed to call Mrs. Morton her ladyship. "That's +where she always used to be. Would you come in and see, Mr. +Reginald?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Mrs. Hopkins. If you were asking me into a house of +your own, I would go in and see all the rooms and chat with you for +an hour; but I don't suppose I shall ever go into this house again +unless things change very much indeed."</p> + +<p>"Then I'm sure I hope they will change, Mr. Reginald." Mrs. Hopkins +had known Reginald Morton as a boy growing up into manhood,—had +almost been present at his birth, and had renewed her friendship +while he was staying with Lady Ushant; but of the present squire, as +she called him, she had seen almost nothing, and what she had once +remembered of him had now been obliterated by an absence of twenty +years. Of course she was on Reginald's side in the family quarrel, +although she was the paid servant of the Foreign Office paragon.</p> + +<p>"And they are to be here next week. What day next week, Mrs. +Hopkins?" Mrs. Hopkins didn't know on what day she was to expect the +visitors, nor how long they intended to stay. Mr. John Morton had +said in his letter that he would send his own man down two days +before his arrival, and that was nearly all that he had said.</p> + +<p>Then Morton started on his return walk to Dillsborough, again taking +the path across the bridge. "Ah!" he said to himself with a shudder +as he crossed the stile, thinking of his own softened feelings as he +had held out his hand to help Mary Masters, and then of his revulsion +of feeling when she declared her purpose of walking home with Mr. +Twentyman. And he struck the rail of the bridge with his stick as +though he were angry with the place altogether. And he thought to +himself that he would never come there any more, that he hated the +place, and that he would never cross that bridge again.</p> + +<p>Then his mind reverted to the tidings he had heard from Mrs. Hopkins. +What ought he to do when his cousin arrived? Though there had been a +long lawsuit, there had been no actual declared quarrel between him +and the heir. He had, indeed, never seen the heir for the last twenty +years, nor had they ever interchanged letters. There had been no +communication whatever between them, and therefore there could hardly +be a quarrel. He disliked his cousin; nay, almost hated him; he was +quite aware of that. And he was sure also that he hated that +Honourable old woman worse than any one else in the world, and that +he always would do so. He knew that the Honourable old woman had +attempted to drive his own mother from Bragton, and of course he +hated her. But that was no reason why he should not call on his +cousin. He was anxious to do what was right. He was specially anxious +that blame should not be attributed to him. What he would like best +would be that he might call, might find nobody at home,—and that +then John Morton should not return the courtesy. He did not want to +go to Bragton as a guest; he did not wish to be in the wrong himself; +but he was by no means equally anxious that his cousin should keep +himself free from reproach.</p> + +<p>The bridge path came out on the Dillsborough road just two miles from +the town, and Morton, as he got over the last stile, saw Lawrence +Twentyman coming towards him on the road. The man, no doubt, had gone +all the way into Dillsborough with the girls, and was now returning +home. The parish of Bragton lies to the left of the high road as you +go into the town from Rufford and the direction of London, whereas +Chowton Farm, the property of Mr. Twentyman, is on the right of the +road, but in the large parish of St. John's, Dillsborough. +Dillsborough Wood lies at the back of Larry Twentyman's land, and +joining on to Larry's land and also to the wood is the patch of +ground owned by "that scoundrel Goarly." Chowton Farm gate opens on +to the high road, so that Larry was now on his direct way home. As +soon as he saw Morton he made up his mind to speak to him. He was +quite sure from what had passed between him and the girls, on the +road home, that he had done something wrong. He was convinced that he +had interfered in some ill-bred way, though he did not at all know +how. Of Reginald Morton he was not in the least jealous. He, too, was +of a jealous temperament, but it had never occurred to him to join +Reginald Morton and Mary Masters together. He was very much in love +with Mary, but had no idea that she was in any way above the position +which she might naturally hold as daughter of the Dillsborough +attorney. But of Reginald Morton's attributes and scholarship and +general standing he had a mystified appreciation which saved him from +the pain of thinking that such a man could be in love with his +sweetheart. As he certainly did not wish to quarrel with Morton, +having always taken Reginald's side in the family disputes, he +thought that he would say a civil word in passing, and, if possible, +apologise. When Morton came up he raised his hand to his head and did +open his mouth, though not pronouncing any word very clearly. Morton +looked at him as grim as death, just raised his hand, and then passed +on with a quick step. Larry was displeased; but the other was so +thoroughly a gentleman,—one of the Mortons, and a man of property in +the county,—that he didn't even yet wish to quarrel with him. "What +the deuce have I done?" said he to himself as he walked on—"I didn't +tell her not to go up to the house. If I offered to walk with her +what was that to him?" It must be remembered that Lawrence Twentyman +was twelve years younger than Reginald Morton, and that a man of +twenty-eight is apt to regard a man of forty as very much too old for +falling in love. It is a mistake which it will take him fully ten +years to rectify, and then he will make a similar mistake as to men +of fifty. With his awe for Morton's combined learning and age, it +never occurred to him to be jealous.</p> + +<p>Morton passed on rapidly, almost feeling that he had been a brute. +But what business had the objectionable man to address him? He tried +to excuse himself, but yet he felt that he had been a brute,—and had +so demeaned himself in reference to the daughter of the Dillsborough +attorney! He would teach himself to do all he could to promote the +marriage. He would give sage advice to Mary Masters as to the wisdom +of establishing herself,—having not an hour since made up his mind +that he would never see her again! He would congratulate the attorney +and Mrs. Masters. He would conquer the absurd feeling which at +present was making him wretched. He would cultivate some sort of +acquaintance with the man, and make the happy pair a wedding present. +But, yet, what "a beast" the man was, with that billicock hat on one +side of his head, and those tight leather gaiters!</p> + +<p>As he passed through the town towards his own house, he saw Mr. +Runciman standing in front of the hotel. His road took him up Hobbs +gate, by the corner of the Bush; but Runciman came a little out of +the way to meet him. "You have heard the news?" said the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>"I have heard one piece of news."</p> + +<p>"What's that, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Come,—you tell me yours first."</p> + +<p>"The young squire is coming down to Bragton next week."</p> + +<p>"That's my news too. It is not likely that there should be two +matters of interest in Dillsborough on the same day."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why Dillsborough should be worse off than any other +place, Mr. Morton; but at any rate the squire's coming."</p> + +<p>"So Mrs. Hopkins told me. Has he written to you?"</p> + +<p>"His coachman or his groom has; or perhaps he keeps what they call an +ekkery. He's much too big a swell to write to the likes of me. Lord +bless me,—when I think of it, I wonder how many dozen of orders I've +had from Lord Rufford under his own hand. 'Dear Runciman, dinner at +eight; ten of us; won't wait a moment. Yours R.' I suppose Mr. Morton +would think that his lordship had let himself down by anything of +that sort?"</p> + +<p>"What does my cousin want?"</p> + +<p>"Two pair of horses,—for a week certain, and perhaps longer, and two +carriages. How am I to let anyone have two pair of horses for a week +certain,—and perhaps longer? What are other customers to do? I can +supply a gentleman by the month and buy horses to suit; or I can +supply him by the job. But I guess Mr. Morton don't well know how +things are managed in this country. He'll have to learn."</p> + +<p>"What day does he come?"</p> + +<p>"They haven't told me that yet, Mr. Morton."</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-7" id="c1-7"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> +<h3>THE WALK HOME.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mary Masters, when Reginald Morton had turned his back upon her at +the bridge, was angry with herself and with him, which was +reasonable; and very angry also with Larry Twentyman, which was +unreasonable. As she had at once acceded to Morton's proposal that +they should walk round the house together, surely he should not have +deserted her so soon. It had not been her fault that the other man +had come up. She had not wanted him. But she was aware that when the +option had in some sort been left to herself, she had elected to walk +back with Larry. She knew her own motives and her own feelings, but +neither of the men would understand them. Because she preferred the +company of Mr. Morton, and had at the moment feared that her sisters +would have deserted her had she followed him, therefore she had +declared her purpose of going back to Dillsborough, in doing which +she knew that Larry and the girls would accompany her. But of course +Mr. Morton would think that she had preferred the company of her +recognised admirer. It was pretty well known in Dillsborough that +Larry was her lover. Her stepmother had spoken of it very freely; and +Larry himself was a man who did not keep his lights hidden under a +bushel. "I hope I've not been in the way, Mary," said Mr. Twentyman, +as soon as Morton was out of hearing.</p> + +<p>"In the way of what?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think there was any harm in offering to go up to the house +with you if you were going."</p> + +<p>"Who has said there was any harm?" The path was only broad enough for +one and she was walking first. Larry was following her and the girls +were behind him.</p> + +<p>"I think that Mr. Morton is a very stuck-up fellow," said Kate, who +was the last.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, Kate," said Mary. "You don't know what you are +talking about."</p> + +<p>"I know as well as any one when a person is good-natured. What made +him go off in that hoity-toity fashion? Nobody had said anything to +him."</p> + +<p>"He always looks as though he were going to eat somebody," said +Dolly.</p> + +<p>"He shan't eat me," said Kate.</p> + +<p>Then there was a pause, during which they all went along quickly, +Mary leading the way. Larry felt that he was wasting his opportunity; +and yet hardly knew how to use it, feeling that the girl was angry +with him.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd say, Mary, whether you think that I did anything +wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing wrong to me, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"Did I do anything wrong to him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know how far you may be acquainted with him. He was +proposing to go somewhere, and you offered to go with him."</p> + +<p>"I offered to go with you," said Larry sturdily. "I suppose I'm +sufficiently acquainted with you."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Why should he be so proud? I never said an uncivil word to him. He's +nothing to me. If he can do without me, I'm sure that I can do +without him."</p> + +<p>"Very well indeed, I should think."</p> + +<p>"The truth is, Mary—"</p> + +<p>"There has been quite enough said about it, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"The truth is, Mary, I came on purpose to have a word with you." +Hearing this, Kate rushed on and pulled Larry by the tail of his +coat.</p> + +<p>"How did you know I was to be there?" demanded Mary sharply.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know. I had reason to think you perhaps might be there. The +girls I knew had been asking you to come as far as the bridge. At any +rate I took my chance. I'd seen him some time before, and then I saw +you."</p> + +<p>"If I'm to be watched about in that way," said Mary angrily, "I won't +go out at all."</p> + +<p>"Of course I want to see you. Why shouldn't I? I'm all fair and above +board;—ain't I? Your father and mother know all about it. It isn't +as though I were doing anything clandestine." He paused for a reply, +but Mary walked on in silence. She knew quite well that he was +warranted in seeking her, and that nothing but a very positive +decision on her part could put an end to his courtship. At the +present moment she was inclined to be very positive, but he had +hardly as yet given her an opportunity of speaking out. "I think you +know, Mary, what it is that I want." They were now at a rough stile +which enabled him to come close up to her and help her. She tripped +over the stile with a light step and again walked on rapidly. The +field they were in enabled him to get up to her side, and now if ever +was his opportunity. It was a long straggling meadow which he knew +well, with the Dill running by it all the way,—or rather two meadows +with an open space where there had once been a gate. He had ridden +through the gap a score of times, and knew that at the further side +of the second meadow they would come upon the high road. The fields +were certainly much better for his purpose than the road. "Don't you +think, Mary, you could say a kind word to me?"</p> + +<p>"I never said anything unkind."</p> + +<p>"You can't think ill of me for loving you better than all the world."</p> + +<p>"I don't think ill of you at all. I think very well of you."</p> + +<p>"That's kind."</p> + +<p>"So I do. How can I help thinking well of you, when I've never heard +anything but good of you?"</p> + +<p>"Then why shouldn't you say at once that you'll have me, and make me +the happiest man in all the county?"</p> + +<p>"Because—"</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"I told you before, Mr. Twentyman, and that ought to have been +enough. A young woman doesn't fall in love with every man that she +thinks well of. I should like you as well as all the rest of the +family if you would only marry some other girl."</p> + +<p>"I shall never do that."</p> + +<p>"Yes you will;—some day."</p> + +<p>"Never. I've set my heart upon it, and I mean to stick to it. I'm not +the fellow to turn about from one girl to another. What I want is the +girl I love. I've money enough and all that kind of thing of my own."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you're disinterested, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am. Ever since you've been home from Bragton it has been the +same thing, and when I felt that it was so, I spoke up to your father +honestly. I haven't been beating about the bush, and I haven't done +anything that wasn't honourable." They were very near the last stile +now. "Come, Mary, if you won't make me a promise, say that you'll +think of it."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of it, Mr. Twentyman, and I can't make you any other +answer. I dare say I'm very foolish."</p> + +<p>"I wish you were more foolish. Perhaps then you wouldn't be so hard +to please."</p> + +<p>"Whether I'm wise or foolish, indeed, indeed, it's no good your going +on. Now we're on the road. Pray go back home, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"It'll be getting dark in a little time."</p> + +<p>"Not before we're in Dillsborough. If it were ever so dark we could +find our way home by ourselves. Come along, Dolly."</p> + +<p>Over the last stile he had stayed a moment to help the younger girl, +and as he did so Kate whispered a word in his ear. "She's angry +because she couldn't go up to the house with that stuck-up fellow." +It was a foolish word; but then Kate Masters had not had much +experience in the world.</p> + +<p>Whether overcome by Mary's resolute mode of speaking, or aware that +the high road would not suit his purpose, he did turn back as soon as +he had seen them a little way on their return towards the town. He +had not gone half a mile before he met Morton, and had been +half-minded to make some apology to him. But Morton had denied him +the opportunity, and he had walked on to his own house,—low in +spirits indeed, but still with none of that sorest of agony which +comes to a lover from the feeling that his love loves some one else. +Mary had been very decided with him,—more so he feared than before; +but still he saw no reason why he should not succeed at last. Mrs. +Masters had told him that Mary would certainly give a little trouble +in winning, but would be the more worth the winner's trouble when +won. And she had certainly shown no preference for any other young +man about the town. There had been a moment when he had much dreaded +Mr. Surtees. Young clergymen are apt to be formidable rivals, and Mr. +Surtees had certainly made some overtures of friendship to Mary +Masters. But Larry had thought that he had seen that these overtures +had not led to much, and then that fear had gone from him. He did +believe that Mary was now angry because she had not been allowed to +walk about Bragton with her old friend Mr. Morton. It had been +natural that she should like to do so. It was the pride of Mary's +life that she had been befriended by the Mortons and Lady Ushant. But +it did not occur to him that he ought to be jealous of Mr. +Morton,—though it had occurred to Kate Masters.</p> + +<p>There was very little said between the sisters on their way back to +the town. Mary was pretty sure now that the two girls had made the +appointment with Larry, but she was unwilling to question them on the +subject. Immediately on their arrival at home they heard the great +news. John Morton was coming to Bragton with a party of ladies and +gentlemen. Mrs. Hopkins had spoken of four persons. Mrs. Masters told +Mary that there were to be a dozen at least, and that four or five +pairs of horses and half a dozen carriages had been ordered from Mr. +Runciman. "He means to cut a dash when he does begin," said Mrs. +Masters.</p> + +<p>"Is he going to stay, mother?"</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't come down in that way if it was only for a few days I +suppose. But what they will do for furniture I don't know."</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of furniture, mother."</p> + +<p>"A thousand years old. Or for wine, or fruit, or plate."</p> + +<p>"The old plate was there when Lady Ushant left."</p> + +<p>"People do things now in a very different way from what they used. A +couple of dozen silver forks made quite a show on the old squire's +table. Now they change the things so often that ten dozen is nothing. +I don't suppose there's a bottle of wine in the cellar."</p> + +<p>"They can get wine from Cobbold, mother."</p> + +<p>"Cobbold's wine won't go down with them I fancy. I wonder what +servants they're bringing."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Masters came in from his office the news was corroborated. +Mr. John Morton was certainly coming to Bragton. The attorney had +still a small unsettled and disputed claim against the owner of the +property, and he had now received by the day mail an answer to a +letter which he had written to Mr. Morton, saying that that gentleman +would see him in the course of the next fortnight.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-8" id="c1-8"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> +<h3>THE PARAGON'S PARTY AT BRAGTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>There was certainly a great deal of fuss made about John Morton's +return to the home of his ancestors,—made altogether by himself and +those about him, and not by those who were to receive him. On the +Thursday in the week following that of which we have been speaking, +two carriages from the Bush met the party at the Railway Station and +took them to Bragton. Mr. Runciman, after due consideration, put up +with the inconsiderate nature of the order given, and supplied the +coaches and horses as required,—consoling himself no doubt with the +reflection that he could charge for the unreasonableness of the +demand in the bill. The coachman and butler had come down two days +before their master, so that things might be in order. Mrs. Hopkins +learned from the butler that though the party would at first consist +only of three, two other very august persons were to follow on the +Saturday,—no less than Lady Augustus Trefoil and her daughter +Arabella. And Mrs. Hopkins was soon led to imagine, though no +positive information was given to her on the subject, that Miss +Trefoil was engaged to be married to their master. "Will he live here +altogether, Mr. Tankard?" Mrs. Hopkins asked. To this question Mr. +Tankard was able to give a very definite answer. He was quite sure +that Mr. Morton would not live anywhere altogether. According to Mr. +Tankard's ideas, the whole foreign policy of England depended on Mr. +John Morton's presence in some capital, either in Europe, Asia, or +America,—upon Mr. Morton's presence, and of course upon his own +also. Mr. Tankard thought it not improbable that they might soon be +wanted at Hong Kong, or some very distant place,—but in the meantime +they were bound to be back at Washington very shortly. Tankard had +himself been at Washington, and also before that at Lisbon, and could +tell Mrs. Hopkins how utterly unimportant had been the actual +ministers at those places, and how the welfare of England had +depended altogether on the discretion and general omniscience of his +young master,—and of himself. He, Tankard, had been the only person +in Washington who had really known in what order Americans should go +out to dinner one after another. Mr. Elias Gotobed, who was coming, +was perhaps the most distinguished American of the day, and was +Senator for Mickewa.</p> + +<p>"Mickey war!" said poor Mrs. Hopkins,—"that's been one of them +terrible American wars we used to hear of." Then Tankard explained to +her that Mickewa was one of the Western States and Mr. Elias Gotobed +was a great Republican, who had very advanced opinions of his own +respecting government, liberty, and public institutions in general. +With Mr. Morton and the Senator was coming the Honourable Mrs. +Morton. The lady had her lady's maid,—and Mr. Morton had his own +man; so that there would be a great influx of persons.</p> + +<p>Of course there was very much perturbation of spirit. Mrs. Hopkins, +after that first letter, the contents of which she had communicated +to Reginald Morton, had received various despatches and been asked +various questions. Could she find a cook? Could she find two +housemaids? And all these were only wanted for a time. In her +distress she went to Mrs. Runciman, and did get assistance. "I +suppose he thinks he's to have the cook out of my kitchen?" Runciman +had said. Somebody, however, was found who said she could cook, and +two girls who professed that they knew how to make beds. And in this +way an establishment was ready before the arrival of the Secretary of +Legation and the great American Senator. Those other questions of +wine and plate and vegetables had, no doubt, settled themselves after +some fashion.</p> + +<p>John Morton had come over to England on leave of absence for four +months, and had brought with him the Senator from Mickewa. The +Senator had never been in England before and was especially anxious +to study the British Constitution and to see the ways of Britons with +his own eyes. He had only been a fortnight in London before this +journey down to the county had been planned. Mr. Gotobed wished to +see English country life and thought that he could not on his first +arrival have a better opportunity. It must be explained also that +there was another motive for this English rural sojourn. Lady +Augustus Trefoil, who was an adventurous lady, had been travelling in +the United States with her daughter, and had there fallen in with Mr. +John Morton. Arabella Trefoil was a beauty, and a woman of fashion, +and had captivated the Paragon. An engagement had been made, subject +to various stipulations; the consent of Lord Augustus in the first +place,—as to which John Morton who only understood foreign affairs +was not aware, as he would have been had he lived in England, that +Lord Augustus was nobody. Lady Augustus had spoken freely as to +settlements, value of property, life insurance and such matters; and +had spoken firmly, as well as freely, expressing doubt as to the +expediency of such an engagement;—all of which had surprised Mr. +Morton considerably, for the young lady had at first been left in his +hands with almost American freedom. And now Lady Augustus and her +daughter were coming down on a visit of inspection. They had been +told, as had the Senator, that things would be in the rough. The +house had not been properly inhabited for nearly a quarter of a +century. The Senator had expressed himself quite contented. Lady +Augustus had only hoped that everything would be made as comfortable +as possible for her daughter. I don't know what more could have been +done at so short a notice than to order two carriages, two +housemaids, and a cook.</p> + +<p>A word or two must also be said of the old lady who made one of the +party. The Honourable Mrs. Morton was now seventy, but no old lady +ever showed less signs of advanced age. It is not to be understood +from this that she was beautiful;—but that she was very strong. What +might be the colour of her hair, or whether she had any, no man had +known for many years. But she wore so perfect a front that some +people were absolutely deluded. She was very much wrinkled;—but as +there are wrinkles which seem to come from the decay of those muscles +which should uphold the skin, so are there others which seem to +denote that the owner has simply got rid of the watery weaknesses of +juvenility. Mrs. Morton's wrinkles were strong wrinkles. She was +thin, but always carried herself bolt upright, and would never even +lean back in her chair. She had a great idea of her duty, and hated +everybody who differed from her with her whole heart. She was the +daughter of a Viscount, a fact which she never forgot for a single +moment, and which she thought gave her positive superiority to all +women who were not the daughters of Dukes or Marquises, or of Earls. +Therefore, as she did not live much in the fashionable world, she +rarely met any one above herself. Her own fortune on her marriage had +been small, but now she was a rich woman. Her husband had been dead +nearly half a century and during the whole of that time she had been +saving money. To two charities she gave annually £5 per annum each. +Duty demanded it, and the money was given. Beyond that she had never +been known to spend a penny in charity. Duty, she had said more than +once, required of her that she do something to repair the ravages +made on the Morton property by the preposterous extravagance of the +old squire in regard to the younger son, and that son's—child. In +her anger she had not hesitated on different occasions to call the +present Reginald a bastard, though the expression was a wicked +calumny for which there was no excuse. Without any aid of hers the +Morton property had repaired itself. There had been a minority of +thirteen or fourteen years, and since that time the present owner had +not spent his income. But John Morton was not himself averse to +money, and had always been careful to maintain good relations with +his grandmother. She had now been asked down to Bragton in order that +she might approve, if possible, of the proposed wife. It was not +likely that she should approve absolutely of anything; but to have +married without an appeal to her would have been to have sent the +money flying into the hands of some of her poor paternal cousins. +Arabella Trefoil was the granddaughter of a duke, and a step had so +far been made in the right direction. But Mrs. Morton knew that Lord +Augustus was nobody, that there would be no money, and that Lady +Augustus had been the daughter of a banker, and that her fortune had +been nearly squandered.</p> + +<p>The Paragon was not in the least afraid of his American visitor, nor, +as far as the comforts of his house were concerned, of his +grandmother. Of the beauty and her mother he did stand in awe;—but +he had two days in which to look to things before they would come. +The train reached the Dillsborough Station at half-past three, and +the two carriages were there to meet them. "You will understand, Mr. +Gotobed," said the old lady, "that my grandson has nothing of his own +established here as yet." This little excuse was produced by certain +patches and tears in the cushions and linings of the carriages. Mr. +Gotobed smiled and bowed and declared that everything was "fixed +convenient." Then the Senator followed the old lady into one +carriage; Mr. Morton followed alone into the other; and they were +driven away to Bragton.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Hopkins had taken the old lady up to her room Mr. Morton +asked the Senator to walk round the grounds. Mr. Gotobed, lighting an +enormous cigar of which he put half down his throat for more +commodious and quick consumption, walked on to the middle of the +drive, and turning back looked up at the house, "Quite a pile," he +said, observing that the offices and outhouses extended a long way to +the left till they almost joined other buildings in which were the +stables and coach-house.</p> + +<p>"It's a good-sized house,"—said the owner;—"nothing very +particular, as houses are built now-a-days."</p> + +<p>"Damp; I should say?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. I have never lived here much myself; but I have not +heard that it is considered so."</p> + +<p>"I guess it's damp. Very lonely;—isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"We like to have our society inside, among ourselves, in the +country."</p> + +<p>"Keep a sort of hotel—like?" suggested Mr. Gotobed. "Well, I don't +dislike hotel life, especially when there are no charges. How many +servants do you want to keep up such a house as that?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton explained that at present he knew very little about it +himself, then led him away by the path over the bridge, and turning +to the left showed him the building which had once been the kennels +of the Rufford hounds. "All that for dogs!" exclaimed Mr. Gotobed.</p> + +<p>"All for dogs," said Morton. "Hounds, we generally call them."</p> + +<p>"Hounds are they? Well;—I'll remember; though 'dogs' seems to me +more civil. How many used there to be?"</p> + +<p>"About fifty couple, I think."</p> + +<p>"A hundred dogs! No wonder your country gentlemen burst up so often. +Wouldn't half-a-dozen do as well,—except for the show of the thing?"</p> + +<p>"Half-a-dozen hounds couldn't hunt a fox, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"I guess half-a-dozen would do just as well, only for the show. What +strikes me, Mr. Morton, on visiting this old country is that so much +is done for show."</p> + +<p>"What do you say to New York, Mr. Gotobed?"</p> + +<p>"There certainly are a couple of hundred fools in New York, who, +having more money than brains, amuse themselves by imitating European +follies. But you won't find that through the country, Mr. Morton. You +won't find a hundred dogs at an American planter's house when ten or +twelve would do as well."</p> + +<p>"Hunting is not one of your amusements."</p> + +<p>"Yes it is. I've been a hunter myself. I've had nothing to eat but +what I killed for a month together. That's more than any of your +hunters can say. A hundred dogs to kill one fox!"</p> + +<p>"Not all at the same time, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"And you have got none now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't hunt myself."</p> + +<p>"And does nobody hunt the foxes about here at present?" Then Morton +explained that on the Saturday following the U. R. U. hounds, under +the mastership of that celebrated sportsman Captain Glomax, would +meet at eleven o'clock exactly at the spot on which they were then +standing, and that if Mr. Gotobed would walk out after breakfast he +should see the whole paraphernalia, including about half a hundred +"dogs," and perhaps a couple of hundred men on horseback. "I shall be +delighted to see any institution of this great country," said Mr. +Gotobed, "however much opposed it may be to my opinion either of +utility or rational recreation." Then, having nearly eaten up one +cigar, he lit another preparatory to eating it, and sauntered back to +the house.</p> + +<p>Before dinner that evening there were a few words between the Paragon +and his grandmother. "I'm afraid you won't like my American friend," +he said.</p> + +<p>"He is all very well, John. Of course an American member of Congress +can't be an English gentleman. You, in your position, have to be +civil to such people. I dare say I shall get on very well with Mr. +Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"I must get somebody to meet him."</p> + +<p>"Lady Augustus and her daughter are coming."</p> + +<p>"They knew each other in Washington. And there will be so many +ladies."</p> + +<p>"You could ask the Coopers from Mallingham," suggested the lady.</p> + +<p>"I don't think they would dine out. He's getting very old."</p> + +<p>"And I'm told the Mainwarings at Dillsborough are very nice people," +said Mrs. Morton, who knew that Mr. Mainwaring at any rate came from +a good family.</p> + +<p>"I suppose they ought to call first. I never saw them in my life. +Reginald Morton, you know, is living at Hoppet Hall in Dillsborough."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say you wish to ask him to this house?"</p> + +<p>"I think I ought. Why should I take upon myself to quarrel with a man +I have not seen since I was a child, and who certainly is my cousin?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know that he is your cousin;—nor do you."</p> + +<p>John Morton passed by the calumny which he had heard before, and +which he knew that it was no good for him to attempt to subvert. "He +was received here as one of the family, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"I know he was;—and with what result?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that I ought to turn my back upon him because my +great-grandfather left property away from me to him. It would give me +a bad name in the county. It would be against me when I settle down +to live here. I think quarrelling is the most foolish thing a man can +do,—especially with his own relations."</p> + +<p>"I can only say this, John;—let me know if he is coming, so that I +may not be called upon to meet him. I will not eat at table with +Reginald Morton." So saying the old lady, in a stately fashion, +stalked out of the room.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-9" id="c1-9"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> +<h3>THE OLD KENNELS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the next morning Mrs. Morton asked her grandson what he meant to +do with reference to his suggested invitation to Reginald. "As you +will not meet him of course I have given up the idea," he said. The +"of course" had been far from true. He had debated the matter very +much with himself. He was an obstinate man, with something of +independence in his spirit. He liked money, but he liked having his +own way too. The old lady looked as though she might live to be a +hundred,—and though she might last only for ten years longer, was it +worth his while to be a slave for that time? And he was by no means +sure of her money, though he should be a slave. He almost made up his +mind that he would ask Reginald Morton. But then the old lady would +be in her tantrums, and there would be the disagreeable necessity of +making an explanation to that inquisitive gentleman Mr. Elias +Gotobed.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't have met him, John; I couldn't indeed. I remember so well +all that occurred when your poor infatuated old great-grandfather +would have that woman into the house! I was forced to have my meals +in my bedroom, and to get myself taken away as soon as I could get a +carriage and horses. After all that I ought not to be asked to meet +the child."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of asking old Mr. Cooper on Monday. I know she +doesn't go out. And perhaps Mr. Mainwaring wouldn't take it amiss. +Mr. Puttock, I know, isn't at home; but if he were, he couldn't +come." Mr. Puttock was the rector of Bragton, a very rich living, but +was unfortunately afflicted with asthma.</p> + +<p>"Poor man. I heard of that; and he's only been here about six years. +I don't see why Mr. Mainwaring should take it amiss at all. You can +explain that you are only here a few days. I like to meet clergymen. +I think that it is the duty of a country gentleman to ask them to his +house. It shows a proper regard for religion. By-the-bye, John, I +hope that you'll see that they have a fire in the church on Sunday." +The Honourable Mrs. Morton always went to church, and had no doubt of +her own sincerity when she reiterated her prayer that as she forgave +others their trespasses, so might she be forgiven hers. As Reginald +Morton had certainly never trespassed against her perhaps there was +no reason why her thoughts should be carried to the necessity of +forgiving him.</p> + +<p>The Paragon wrote two very diplomatic notes, explaining his temporary +residence and expressing his great desire to become acquainted with +his neighbours. Neither of the two clergymen were offended, and both +of them promised to eat his dinner on Monday. Mr. Mainwaring was very +fond of dining out, and would have gone almost to any gentleman's +house. Mr. Cooper had been enough in the neighbourhood to have known +the old squire, and wrote an affectionate note expressing his +gratification at the prospect of renewing his acquaintance with the +little boy whom he remembered. So the party was made up for Monday. +John Morton was very nervous on the matter, fearing that Lady +Augustus would think the land to be barren.</p> + +<p>The Friday passed by without much difficulty. The Senator was driven +about, and everything was inquired into. One or two farm-houses were +visited, and the farmers' wives were much disturbed by the questions +asked them. "I don't think they'd get a living in the States," was +the Senator's remark after leaving one of the homesteads in which +neither the farmer nor his wife had shown much power of conversation. +"Then they're right to stay where they are," replied Mr. Morton, who +in spite of his diplomacy could not save himself from being nettled. +"They seem to get a very good living here, and they pay their rent +punctually."</p> + +<p>On the Saturday morning the hounds met at the "Old Kennels," as the +meet was always called, and here was an excellent opportunity of +showing to Mr. Gotobed one of the great institutions of the country. +It was close to the house and therefore could be reached without any +trouble, and as it was held on Morton's own ground, he could do more +towards making his visitor understand the thing than might have been +possible elsewhere. When the hounds moved the carriage would be ready +to take them about the roads, and show them as much as could be seen +on wheels.</p> + +<p>Punctually at eleven John Morton and his American guest were on the +bridge, and Tony Tuppett was already occupying his wonted place, +seated on a strong grey mare that had done a great deal of work, but +would live,—as Tony used to say,—to do a great deal more. Round him +the hounds were clustered,—twenty-three couple in all,—some seated +on their haunches, some standing obediently still, while a few moved +about restlessly, subject to the voices and on one or two occasions +to a gentle administration of thong from the attendant whips. Four or +five horsemen were clustering round, most of them farmers, and were +talking to Tony. Our friend Mr. Twentyman was the only man in a red +coat who had yet arrived, and with him, on her brown pony, was Kate +Masters, who was listening with all her ears to every word that Tony +said.</p> + +<p>"That, I guess, is the Captain you spoke of," said the Senator +pointing to Tony Tuppett.</p> + +<p>"Oh no;—that's the huntsman. Those three men in caps are the +servants who do the work."</p> + +<p>"The dogs can't be brought out without servants to mind them! They're +what you call gamekeepers." Morton was explaining that the men were +not gamekeepers when Captain Glomax himself arrived, driving a +tandem. There was no road up to the spot, but on hunt mornings,—or +at any rate when the meet was at the old kennels,—the park-gates +were open so that vehicles could come up on the green sward.</p> + +<p>"That's Captain Glomax, I suppose," said Morton. "I don't know him, +but from the way he's talking to the huntsman you may be sure of it."</p> + +<p>"He is the great man, is he? All these dogs belong to him?"</p> + +<p>"Either to him or the hunt."</p> + +<p>"And he pays for those servants?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"He is a very rich man, I suppose." Then Mr. Morton endeavoured to +explain the position of Captain Glomax. He was not rich. He was no +one in particular—except that he was Captain Glomax; and his one +attribute was a knowledge of hunting. He didn't keep the "dogs" out +of his own pocket. He received £2,000 a year from the gentlemen of +the county, and he himself only paid anything which the hounds and +horses might cost over that. "He's a sort of upper servant then?" +asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. He's the greatest man in the county on hunting days."</p> + +<p>"Does he live out of it?"</p> + +<p>"I should think not."</p> + +<p>"It's a deal of trouble, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Full work for an active man's time, I should say." A great many more +questions were asked and answered, at the end of which the Senator +declared that he did not quite understand it, but that as far as he +saw he did not think very much of Captain Glomax.</p> + +<p>"If he could make a living out of it I should respect him," said the +Senator;—"though it's like knife-grinding or handling arsenic,—an +unwholesome sort of profession."</p> + +<p>"I think they look very nice," said Morton, as one or two +well-turned-out young men rode up to the place.</p> + +<p>"They seem to me to have thought more about their breeches than +anything else," said the Senator. "But if they're going to hunt why +don't they hunt? Have they got a fox with them?" Then there was a +further explanation.</p> + +<p>At this moment there was a murmur as of a great coming arrival, and +then an open carriage with four post-horses was brought at a quick +trot into the open space. There were four men dressed for hunting +inside, and two others on the box. They were all smoking, and all +talking. It was easy to see that they did not consider themselves the +least among those who were gathered together on this occasion. The +carriage was immediately surrounded by grooms and horses, and the +ceremony of disencumbering themselves of great coats and aprons, of +putting on spurs and fastening hat-strings was commenced. Then there +were whispered communications from the grooms, and long faces under +some of the hats. This horse hadn't been fit since last Monday's run, +and that man's hack wasn't as it should be. A muttered curse might +have been heard from one gentleman as he was told, on jumping from +the box, that Harry Stubbings hadn't sent him any second horse to +ride. "I didn't hear nothing about it till yesterday, Captain," said +Harry Stubbings, "and every foot I had fit to come out was bespoke." +The groom, however, who heard this was quite aware that Mr. Stubbings +did not wish to give unlimited credit to the Captain, and he knew +also that the second horse was to have carried his master the whole +day, as the animal which was brought to the meet had been ridden hard +on the previous Wednesday. At all this the Senator looked with +curious eyes, thinking that he had never in his life seen brought +together a set of more useless human beings.</p> + +<p>"That is Lord Rufford," said Morton, pointing to a stout, +ruddy-faced, handsome man of about thirty, who was the owner of the +carriage.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a lord. Do the lords hunt generally?"</p> + +<p>"That's as they like it."</p> + +<p>"Senators with us wouldn't have time for that," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"But you are paid to do your work."</p> + +<p>"Everybody from whom work is expected should be paid. Then the work +will be done, or those who pay will know the reason why."</p> + +<p>"I must speak to Lord Rufford," said Morton. "If you'll come with me, +I'll introduce you." The Senator followed willingly enough and the +introduction was made while his lordship was still standing by his +horse. The two men had known each other in London, and it was natural +that Morton, as owner of the ground, should come out and speak to the +only man who knew him. It soon was spread about that the gentleman +talking to Lord Rufford was John Morton, and many who lived in the +county came up to shake hands with him. To some of these the Senator +was introduced and the conversation for a few minutes seemed to +interrupt the business on hand. "I am sorry you should be on foot, +Mr. Gotobed," said the lord.</p> + +<p>"And I am sorry that I cannot mount him," said Mr. Morton.</p> + +<p>"We can soon get over that difficulty if he will allow me to offer +him a horse."</p> + +<p>The Senator looked as though he would almost like it, but he didn't +quite like it. "Perhaps your horse might kick me off, my lord."</p> + +<p>"I can't answer for that; but he isn't given to kicking, and there he +is, if you'll get on him." But the Senator felt that the exhibition +would suit neither his age nor position, and refused.</p> + +<p>"We'd better be moving," said Captain Glomax. "I suppose, Lord +Rufford, we might as well trot over to Dillsborough Wood at once. I +saw Bean as I came along and he seemed to wish we should draw the +wood first." Then there was a little whispering between his lordship +and the Master and Tony Tuppett. His lordship thought that as Mr. +Morton was there the hounds might as well be run through the Bragton +spinnies. Tony made a wry face and shook his head. He knew that +though the Old Kennels might be a very good place for meeting there +was no chance of finding a fox at Bragton. And Captain Glomax, who, +being an itinerary master, had no respect whatever for a country +gentleman who didn't preserve, also made a long face and also shook +his head. But Lord Rufford, who knew the wisdom of reconciling a +newcomer in the county to foxhunting, prevailed and the hounds and +men were taken round a part of Bragton Park.</p> + +<p>"What 'd t' old squire 've said if he'd 've known there hadn't been a +fox at Bragton for more nor ten year?" This remark was made by +Tuppett to Mr. Runciman who was riding by him. Mr. Runciman replied +that there was a great difference in people. "You may say that, Mr. +Runciman. It's all changes. His lordship's father couldn't bear the +sight of a hound nor a horse and saddle. Well;—I suppose I needn't +gammon any furder. We'll just trot across to the wood at once."</p> + +<p>"They haven't begun yet as far as I can see," said Mr. Gotobed +standing up in the carriage.</p> + +<p>"They haven't found as yet," replied Morton.</p> + +<p>"They must go on till they find a fox? They never bring him with +them?" Then there was an explanation as to bagged foxes, Morton not +being very conversant with the subject he had to explain. "And if +they shouldn't find one all day?"</p> + +<p>"Then it'll be a blank."</p> + +<p>"And these hundred gentlemen will go home quite satisfied with +themselves?"</p> + +<p>"No;—they'll go home quite dissatisfied."</p> + +<p>"And have paid their money and given their time for nothing? Do you +know it doesn't seem to me the most heart-stirring thing in the +world. Don't they ride faster than that?" At this moment Tony with +the hounds at his heels was trotting across the park at a huntsman's +usual pace from covert to covert. The Senator was certainly +ungracious. Nothing that he saw produced from him a single word +expressive of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Less than a mile brought them to the gate and road leading up to +Chowton Farm. They passed close by Larry Twentyman's door, and not a +few, though it was not yet more than half-past eleven, stopped to +have a glass of Larry's beer. When the hounds were in the +neighbourhood Larry's beer was always ready. But Tony and his +attendants trotted by with eyes averted, as though no thought of beer +was in their minds. Nothing had been done, and a huntsman is not +entitled to beer till he has found a fox. Captain Glomax followed +with Lord Rufford and a host of others. There was plenty of way here +for carriages, and half a dozen vehicles passed through Larry's +farmyard. Immediately behind the house was a meadow, and at the +bottom of the meadow a stubble field, next to which was the ditch and +bank which formed the bounds of Dillsborough Wood. Just at this side +of the gate leading into the stubble-field there was already a +concourse of people when Tony arrived near it with the hounds, and +immediately there was a holloaing and loud screeching of directions, +which was soon understood to mean that the hounds were at once to be +taken away! The Captain rode on rapidly, and then sharply gave his +orders. Tony was to take the hounds back to Mr. Twentyman's farmyard +as fast as he could, and shut them up in a barn. The whips were put +into violent commotion. Tony was eagerly at work. Not a hound was to +be allowed near the gate. And then, as the crowd of horsemen and +carriages came on, the word "poison" was passed among them from mouth +to mouth!</p> + +<p>"What does all this mean?" said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"I don't at all know. I'm afraid there's something wrong," replied +Morton.</p> + +<p>"I heard that man say 'poison.' They have taken the dogs back again." +Then the Senator and Morton got out of the carriage and made their +way into the crowd. The riders who had grooms on second horses were +soon on foot, and a circle was made, inside which there was some +object of intense interest. In the meantime the hounds had been +secured in one of Mr. Twentyman's barns.</p> + +<p>What was that object of interest shall be told in the next chapter.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-10" id="c1-10"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> +<h3>GOARLY'S REVENGE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The Senator and Morton followed close on the steps of Lord Rufford +and Captain Glomax and were thus able to make their way into the +centre of the crowd. There, on a clean sward of grass, laid out as +carefully as though he were a royal child prepared for burial, was—a +dead fox. "It's pi'son, my lord; it's pi'son to a moral," said Bean, +who as keeper of the wood was bound to vindicate himself, and his +master, and the wood. "Feel of him, how stiff he is." A good many did +feel, but Lord Rufford stood still and looked at the poor victim in +silence. "It's easy knowing how he come by it," said Bean.</p> + +<p>The men around gazed into each other's faces with a sad tragic air, +as though the occasion were one which at the first blush was too +melancholy for many words. There was whispering here and there and +one young farmer's son gave a deep sigh, like a steam-engine +beginning to work, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. +"There ain't nothin' too bad,—nothin'," said another,—leaving his +audience to imagine whether he were alluding to the wretchedness of +the world in general or to the punishment which was due to the +perpetrator of this nefarious act. The dreadful word "vulpecide" was +heard from various lips with an oath or two before it. "It makes me +sick of my own land, to think it should be done so near," said Larry +Twentyman, who had just come up. Mr. Runciman declared that they must +set their wits to work not only to find the criminal but to prove the +crime against him, and offered to subscribe a couple of sovereigns on +the spot to a common fund to be raised for the purpose. "I don't know +what is to be done with a country like this," said Captain Glomax, +who, as an itinerant, was not averse to cast a slur upon the land of +his present sojourn.</p> + +<p>"I don't remember anything like it on my property before," said the +lord, standing up for his own estate and the county at large.</p> + +<p>"Nor in the hunt," said young Hampton. "Of course such a thing may +happen anywhere. They had foxes poisoned in the Pytchley last year."</p> + +<p>"It shows a d—— bad feeling somewhere," said the Master.</p> + +<p>"We know very well where the feeling is," said Bean who had by this +time taken up the fox, determined not to allow it to pass into any +hands less careful than his own.</p> + +<p>"It's that scoundrel, Goarly," said one of the Botseys. Then there +was an indignant murmur heard, first of all from two or three and +then running among the whole crowd. Everybody knew as well as though +he had seen it that Goarly had baited meat with strychnine and put it +down in the wood. "Might have pi'soned half the pack!" said Tony +Tuppett, who had come up on foot from the barn where the hounds were +still imprisoned, and had caught hold in an affectionate manner of a +fore pad of the fox which Bean had clutched by the two hind legs. +Poor Tony Tuppett almost shed tears as he looked at the dead animal, +and thought what might have been the fate of the pack. "It's him, my +lord," he said, "as we run through Littleton gorse Monday after +Christmas last, and up to Impington Park where he got away from us in +a hollow tree. He's four year old," added Tony, looking at the +animal's mouth, "and there warn't a finer dog fox in the county."</p> + +<p>"Do they know all the foxes?" asked the Senator. In answer to this, +Morton only shook his head, not feeling quite sure himself how far a +huntsman's acquaintance in that line might go, and being also too +much impressed by the occasion for speculative conversation.</p> + +<p>"It's that scoundrel Goarly" had been repeated again and again; and +then on a sudden Goarly himself was seen standing on the further +hedge of Larry's field with a gun in his hand. He was not at this +time above two hundred yards from them, and was declared by one of +the young farmers to be grinning with delight. The next field was +Goarly's, but the hedge and ditch belonged to Twentyman. Larry rushed +forward as though determined to thrash the man, and two or three +followed him. But Lord Rufford galloped on and stopped them. "Don't +get into a row with a fellow like that," he said to Twentyman.</p> + +<p>"He's on my land, my lord," said Larry impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I'm on my own now, and let me see who'll dare to touch me," said +Goarly jumping down.</p> + +<p>"You've put poison down in that wood," said Larry.</p> + +<p>"No I didn't;—but I knows who did. It ain't I as am afeard for my +young turkeys." Now it was well known that old Mrs. Twentyman, +Larry's mother, was fond of young turkeys, and that her poultry-yard +had suffered. Larry, in his determination to be a gentleman, had +always laughed at his mother's losses. But now to be accused in this +way was terrible to his feelings! He made a rush as though to jump +over the hedge, but Lord Rufford again intercepted him. "I didn't +think, Mr. Twentyman, that you'd care for what such a fellow as that +might say." By this time Lord Rufford was off his horse, and had +taken hold of Larry.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all what it is," screamed Goarly, standing just at the +edge of his own field,—"if a hound comes out of the wood on to my +land, I'll shoot him. I don't know nothing about p'isoning, though I +dare say Mr. Twentyman does. But if a hound comes on my land, I'll +shoot him,—open, before you all." There was, however, no danger of +such a threat being executed on this day, as of course no hound would +be allowed to go into Dillsborough Wood.</p> + +<p>Twentyman was reluctantly brought back into the meadow where the +horses were standing, and then a consultation was held as to what +they should do next. There were some who thought that the hounds +should be taken home for the day. It was as though some special +friend of the U. R. U. had died that morning, and that the spirits of +the sportsmen were too dejected for their sport. Others, with prudent +foresight, suggested that the hounds might run back from some distant +covert to Dillsborough, and that there should be no hunting till the +wood had been thoroughly searched. But the strangers, especially +those who had hired horses, would not hear of this; and after +considerable delay it was arranged that the hounds should be trotted +off as quickly as possible to Impington Gorse, which was on the other +side of Impington Park, and fully five miles distant. And so they +started, leaving the dead fox in the hands of Bean the gamekeeper.</p> + +<p>"Is this the sort of thing that occurs every day?" asked the Senator +as he got back into the carriage.</p> + +<p>"I should fancy not," answered Morton. "Somebody has poisoned a fox, +and I don't think that that is very often done about here."</p> + +<p>"Why did he poison him?"</p> + +<p>"To save his fowls I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't he poison him if the fox takes his fowls? Fowls are +better than foxes."</p> + +<p>"Not in this country," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm very glad I don't live here," said Mr. Gotobed. "These +friends of yours are dressed very nicely and look very well,—but a +fox is a nasty animal. It was that man standing up on the +bank;—wasn't it?" continued the Senator, who was determined to +understand it all to the very bottom, in reference to certain +lectures which he intended to give on his return to the States,—and +perhaps also in the old country before he left it.</p> + +<p>"They suspect him."</p> + +<p>"That man with the gun! One man against two hundred! Now I respect +that man;—I do with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"You'd better not say so here, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"I know how full of prejudice you all air',—but I do respect him. If +I comprehend the matter rightly, he was on his own land when we saw +him."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—that was his own field."</p> + +<p>"And they meant to ride across it whether he liked it or no?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody rides across everybody's land out hunting."</p> + +<p>"Would they ride across your park, Mr. Morton, if you didn't let +them?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly they would,—and break down all my gates if I had them +locked, and pull down my park palings to let the hounds through."</p> + +<p>"And you could get no compensation?"</p> + +<p>"Practically I could get none. And certainly I should not try. The +greatest enemy to hunting in the whole county would not be foolish +enough to make the attempt."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"He would get no satisfaction, and everybody would hate him."</p> + +<p>"Then I respect that man the more. What is that man's name?" Morton +hadn't heard the name, or had forgotten it. "I shall find that man +out, and have some conversation with him, Mr. Morton. I respect that +man, Mr. Morton. He's one against two hundred, and he insists upon +his rights. Those men standing round and wiping their eyes, and +stifled with grief because a fox had been poisoned, as though some +great patriot had died among them in the service of his country, +formed one of the most remarkable phenomena, sir, that ever I beheld +in any country. When I get among my own people in Mickewa and tell +them that,—they won't believe me, sir."</p> + +<p>In the meantime the cavalcade was hurrying away to Impington Gorse, +and John Morton, feeling that he had not had an opportunity as yet of +showing his American friend the best side of hunting, went with them. +The five miles were five long miles, and as the pace was not above +seven miles an hour, nearly an hour was occupied. There was therefore +plenty of opportunity for the Senator to inquire whether the +gentlemen around him were as yet enjoying their sport. There was an +air of triumph about him as to the misfortunes of the day, joined to +a battery of continued raillery, which made it almost impossible for +Morton to keep his temper. He asked whether it was not at any rate +better than trotting a pair of horses backwards and forwards over the +same mile of road for half the day, as is the custom in the States. +But the Senator, though he did not quite approve of trotting matches, +argued that there was infinitely more of skill and ingenuity in the +American pastime. "Everybody is so gloomy," said the Senator, +lighting his third cigar. "I've been watching that young man in pink +boots for the last half hour, and he hasn't spoken a word to any +one."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he's a stranger," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"And that's the way you treat him!"</p> + +<p>It was past two when the hounds were put into the gorse, and +certainly no one was in a very good humour. A trot of five miles is +disagreeable, and two o'clock in November is late for finding a first +fox; and then poisoning is a vice that may grow into a habit! There +was a general feeling that Goarly ought to be extinguished, but an +idea that it might be difficult to extinguish him. The whips, +nevertheless, cantered on to the corner of the covert, and Tony put +in his hounds with a cheery voice. The Senator remarked that the +gorse was a very little place,—for as they were on the side of an +opposite hill they could see it all. Lord Rufford, who was standing +by the carriage, explained to him that it was a favourite resort of +foxes, and difficult to draw as being very close. "Perhaps they've +poisoned him too," said the Senator. It was evident from his voice +that had such been the case, he would not have been among the +mourners. "The blackguards are not yet thick enough in our country +for that," said Lord Rufford, meaning to be sarcastic.</p> + +<p>Then a whimper was heard from a hound,—at first very low, and then +growing into a fuller sound. "There he is," said young Hampton. "For +heaven's sake get those fellows away from that side, Glomax." This +was uttered with so much vehemence that the Senator looked up in +surprise. Then the Captain galloped round the side of the covert, +and, making use of some strong language, stopped the ardour of +certain gentlemen who were in a hurry to get away on what they +considered good terms. Lord Rufford, Hampton, Larry Twentyman and +others sat stock-still on their horses, watching the gorse. Ned +Botsey urged himself a little forward down the hill, and was creeping +on when Captain Glomax asked him whether he would be so +<span class="nowrap">——</span> +<span class="nowrap">——</span> +obliging kind as to remain where he was for half a minute. Ned took +the observations in good part and stopped his horse. "Does he do all +that cursing and swearing for the £2,000?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>The fox traversed the gorse back from side to side and from corner to +corner again and again. There were two sides certainly at which he +might break, but though he came out more than once he could not be +got to go away.</p> + +<p>"They'll kill him now before he breaks," said the elder Botsey.</p> + +<p>"Brute!" exclaimed his brother.</p> + +<p>"They're hot on him now," said Hampton. At this time the whole side +of the hill was ringing with the music of the hounds.</p> + +<p>"He was out then, but Dick turned him," said Larry. Dick was one of +the whips.</p> + +<p>"Will you be so kind, Mr. Morton," asked the Senator, "as to tell me +whether they're hunting yet? They've been at it for three hours and a +half, and I should like to know when they begin to amuse themselves."</p> + +<p>Just as he had spoken there came from Dick a cry that he was away. +Tony, who had been down at the side of the gorse, at once jumped into +it, knowing the passage through. Lord Rufford, who for the last five +or six minutes had sat perfectly still on his horse, started down the +hill as though he had been thrown from a catapult. There was a little +hand-gate through which it was expedient to pass, and in a minute a +score of men were jostling for the way, among whom were the two +Botseys, our friend Runciman, and Larry Twentyman, with Kate Masters +on the pony close behind him. Young Hampton jumped a very nasty fence +by the side of the wicket, and Lord Rufford followed him. A score of +elderly men, with some young men among them too, turned back into a +lane behind them, having watched long enough to see that they were to +take the lane to the left, and not the lane to the right. After all +there was time enough, for when the men had got through the hand-gate +the hounds were hardly free of the covert, and Tony, riding up the +side of the hill opposite, was still blowing his horn. But they were +off at last, and the bulk of the field got away on good terms with +the hounds. "Now they are hunting," said Mr. Morton to the Senator.</p> + +<p>"They all seemed to be very angry with each other at that narrow +gate."</p> + +<p>"They were in a hurry, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Two of them jumped over the hedge. Why didn't they all jump? How +long will it be now before they catch him?"</p> + +<p>"Very probably they may not catch him at all."</p> + +<p>"Not catch him after all that! Then the man was certainly right to +poison that other fox in the wood. How long will they go on?"</p> + +<p>"Half an hour perhaps."</p> + +<p>"And you call that hunting! Is it worth the while of all those men to +expend all that energy for such a result? Upon the whole, Mr. Morton, +I should say that it is one of the most incomprehensible things that +I have ever seen in the course of a rather long and varied life. +Shooting I can understand, for you have your birds. Fishing I can +understand, as you have your fish. Here you get a fox to begin with, +and are all broken-hearted. Then you come across another, after +riding about all day, and the chances are you can't catch him!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Mr. Morton angrily, "the habits of one country are +incomprehensible to the people of another. When I see Americans +loafing about in the bar-room of an hotel, I am lost in amazement."</p> + +<p>"There is not a man you see who couldn't give a reason for his being +there. He has an object in view,—though perhaps it may be no better +than to rob his neighbour. But here there seems to be no possible +motive."</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-11" id="c1-11"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> +<h3>FROM IMPINGTON GORSE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The fox ran straight from the covert through his well-known haunts to +Impington Park, and as the hounds were astray there for two or three +minutes there was a general idea that he too had got up into a +tree,—which would have amused the Senator very much had the Senator +been there. But neither had the country nor the pace been adapted to +wheels, and the Senator and the Paragon were now returning along the +road towards Bragton. The fox had tried his old earths at Impington +High wood, and had then skulked back along the outside of the covert. +Had not one of the whips seen him he would have been troubled no +further on that day,—a fact, which if it could have been explained +to the Senator in all its bearings, would greatly have added to his +delight. But Dick viewed him; and with many holloas and much blowing +of horns, and prayers from Captain Glomax that gentlemen would only +be so good as to hold their tongues, and a full-tongued volley of +abuse from half the field against an unfortunate gentleman who rode +after the escaping fox before a hound was out of the covert, they +settled again to their business. It was pretty to see the quiet ease +and apparent nonchalance and almost affected absence of bustle of +those who knew their work,—among whom were especially to be named +young Hampton, and the elder Botsey, and Lord Rufford, and, above +all, a dark-visaged, long-whiskered, sombre, military man who had +been in the carriage with Lord Rufford, and who had hardly spoken a +word to any one the whole day. This was the celebrated Major +Caneback, known to all the world as one of the dullest men and best +riders across country that England had ever produced. But he was not +so dull but that he knew how to make use of his accomplishment, so as +always to be able to get a mount on a friend's horses. If a man +wanted to make a horse, or to try a horse, or to sell a horse, or to +buy a horse, he delighted to put Major Caneback up. The Major was +sympathetic and made his friend's horses, and tried them, and sold +them. Then he would take his two bottles of wine,—of course from his +friend's cellar,—and when asked about the day's sport would be +oracular in two words, "Rather slow," "Quick spurt," "Goodish thing," +"Regularly mulled," and such like. Nevertheless it was a great thing +to have Major Caneback with you. To the list of those who rode well +and quietly must in justice be added our friend Larry Twentyman, who +was in truth a good horseman. And he had three things to do which it +was difficult enough to combine. He had a young horse which he would +have liked to sell; he had to coach Kate Masters on his pony;—and he +desired to ride like Major Caneback.</p> + +<p>From Impington Park they went in a straight line to Littleton Gorse +skirting certain small woods which the fox disdained to enter. Here +the pace was very good, and the country was all grass. It was the +very cream of the U. R. U.; and could the Senator have read the +feelings of the dozen leading men in the run, he would have owned +that they were for the time satisfied with their amusement. Could he +have read Kate Masters' feelings he would have had to own that she +was in an earthly Paradise. When the pony paused at the big brook, +brought his four legs steadily down on the brink as though he were +going to bathe, then with a bend of his back leaped to the other +side, dropping his hind legs in and instantly recovering them, and +when she saw that Larry had waited just a moment for her, watching to +see what might be her fate, she was in heaven. "Wasn't it a big one, +Larry?" she asked in her triumph. "He did go in behind!" "Those cats +of things always do it somehow," Larry replied darting forward again +and keeping the Major well in his eye. The brook had stopped one or +two, and tidings came up that Ned Botsey had broken his horse's back. +The knowledge of the brook had sent some round by the road,—steady +riding men such as Mr. Runciman and Doctor Nupper. Captain Glomax had +got into it and came up afterwards wet through, with temper by no +means improved. But the glory of the day had been the way in which +Lord Rufford's young bay mare, who had never seen a brook before, had +flown over it with the Major on her back, taking it, as Larry +afterwards described, "just in her stride, without condescending to +look at it. I was just behind the Major, and saw her do it." Larry +understood that a man should never talk of his own place in a run, +but he didn't quite understand that neither should he talk of having +been close to another man who was supposed to have had the best of +it. Lord Rufford, who didn't talk much of these things, quite +understood that he had received full value for his billet and mount +in the improved character of his mare.</p> + +<p>Then there was a little difficulty at the boundary fence of Impington +Hall Farm. The Major who didn't know the ground, tried it at an +impracticable place, and brought his mare down. But she fell at the +right side, and he was quick enough in getting away from her, not to +fall under her in the ditch. Tony Tuppet, who knew every foot of that +double ditch and bank, and every foot in the hedge above, kept well +to the left and crept through a spot where one ditch ran into the +other, intersecting of the fence. Tony, like a knowing huntsman as he +was, rode always for the finish and not for immediate glory. Both +Lord Rufford and Hampton, who in spite of their affected nonchalance +were in truth rather riding against one another, took it all in a +fly, choosing a lighter spot than that which the Major had +encountered. Larry had longed to follow them, or rather to take it +alongside of them, but was mindful at last of Kate and hurried down +the ditch to the spot which Tony had chosen and which was now crowded +by horsemen. "He would have done it as well as the best of them," +said Kate, panting for breath.</p> + +<p>"We're all right," said Larry. "Follow me. Don't let them hustle you +out. Now, Mat, can't you make way for a lady half a minute?" Mat +growled, quite understanding the use which was being made of Kate +Masters; but he did give way and was rewarded with a gracious smile. +"You are going uncommon well, Miss Kate," said Mat, "and I won't stop +you." "I am so much obliged to you, Mr. Ruggles," said Kate, not +scrupling for a moment to take the advantage offered her. The fox had +turned a little to the left, which was in Larry's favour, and the +Major was now close to him, covered on one side with mud, but still +looking as though the mud were all right. There are some men who can +crush their hats, have their boots and breeches full of water, and be +covered with dirt from their faces downwards, and yet look as though +nothing were amiss, while, with others, the marks of a fall are +always provocative either of pity or ridicule. "I hope you're not +hurt, Major Caneback," said Larry, glad of the occasion to speak to +so distinguished an individual. The Major grunted as he rode on, +finding no necessity here even for his customary two words. Little +accidents, such as that, were the price he paid for his day's +entertainment.</p> + +<p>As they got within view of Littleton Gorse Hampton, Lord Rufford, and +Tony had the best of it, though two or three farmers were very close +to them. At this moment Tony's mind was much disturbed, and he looked +round more than once for Captain Glomax. Captain Glomax had got into +the brook, and had then ridden down to the high road which ran here +near to them and which, as he knew, ran within one field of the +gorse. He had lost his place and had got a ducking and was a little +out of humour with things in general. It had not been his purpose to +go to Impington on this day, and he was still, in his mind, saying +evil things of the U. R. U. respecting that poisoned fox. Perhaps he +was thinking, as itinerant masters often must think, that it was very +hard to have to bear so many unpleasant things for a poor £2,000 a +year, and meditating, as he had done for the last two seasons, a +threat that unless the money were increased, he wouldn't hunt the +country more than three times a week. As Tony got near to the gorse +and also near to the road he managed with infinite skill to get the +hounds off the scent, and to make a fictitious cast to the left as +though he thought the fox had traversed that way. Tony knew well +enough that the fox was at that moment in Littleton Gorse;—but he +knew also that the gorse was only six acres, that such a fox as he +had before him wouldn't stay there two minutes after the first hound +was in it, and that Dillsborough Wood,—which to his imagination was +full of poison,—would then be only a mile and a half before him. +Tony, whose fault was a tendency to mystery,—as is the fault of most +huntsmen,—having accomplished his object in stopping the hounds, +pretended to cast about with great diligence. He crossed the road and +was down one side of a field and along another, looking anxiously for +the Captain. "The fox has gone on to the gorse," said the elder +Botsey; "what a stupid old pig he is;"—meaning that Tony Tuppett was +the pig.</p> + +<p>"He was seen going on," said Larry, who had come across a man mending +a drain.</p> + +<p>"It would be his run of course," said Hampton, who was generally up +to Tony's wiles, but who was now as much in the dark as others. Then +four or five rode up to the huntsman and told him that the fox had +been seen heading for the gorse. Tony said not a word but bit his +lips and scratched his head and bethought himself what fools men +might be even though they did ride well to hounds. One word of +explanation would have settled it all, but he would not speak that +word till he whispered it to Captain Glomax.</p> + +<p>In the meantime there was a crowd in the road waiting to see the +result of Tony's manœuvres. And then, as is usual on such +occasions, a little mild repartee went about,—what the sportsmen +themselves would have called "chaff." Ned Botsey came up, not having +broken his horse's back as had been rumoured, but having had to drag +the brute out of the brook with the help of two countrymen, and the +Major was asked about his fall till he was forced to open his mouth. +"Double ditch;—mare fell;—matter of course." And then he got +himself out of the crowd, disgusted with the littleness of mankind. +Lord Rufford had been riding a very big chestnut horse, and had +watched the anxious struggles of Kate Masters to hold her place. +Kate, though fifteen, and quite up to that age in intelligence and +impudence, was small and looked almost a child. "That's a nice pony +of yours, my dear," said the Lord. Kate, who didn't quite like being +called "my dear," but who knew that a lord has privileges, said that +it was a very good pony. "Suppose we change," said his lordship. +"Could you ride my horse?" "He's very big," said Kate. "You'd look +like a tom-tit on a haystack," said his lordship. "And if you got on +my pony, you'd look like a haystack on a tom-tit," said Kate. Then it +was felt that Kate Masters had had the best of that little encounter. +"Yes;—I got one there," said Lord Rufford, while his friends were +laughing at him.</p> + +<p>At length Captain Glomax was seen in the road and Tony was with him +at once, whispering in his ear that the hounds if allowed to go on +would certainly run into Dillsborough Wood. +<span class="nowrap">"D——</span> the hounds," +muttered the Captain; but he knew too well what he was about to +face—so terrible a danger. "They're going home," he said as soon as +he had joined Lord Rufford and the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Going home!" exclaimed a pink-coated young rider of a hired horse +which had been going well with him; and as he said so he looked at +his watch.</p> + +<p>"Unless you particularly wish me to take the hounds to some covert +twenty miles off," answered the sarcastic Master.</p> + +<p>"The fox certainly went on to Littleton," said the elder Botsey.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," said the Captain, "I can tell you where the fox +went quite as well as you can tell me. Do allow a man to know what +he's about some times."</p> + +<p>"It isn't generally the custom here to take the hounds off a running +fox," continued Botsey, who subscribed £50, and did not like being +snubbed.</p> + +<p>"And it isn't generally the custom to have fox-coverts poisoned," +said the Captain, assuming to himself the credit due to Tony's +sagacity. "If you wish to be Master of these hounds I haven't the +slightest objection, but while I'm responsible you must allow me to +do my work according to my own judgment." Then the thing was +understood and Captain Glomax was allowed to carry off the hounds and +his ill-humour without another word.</p> + +<p>But just at that moment, while the hounds and the master, and Lord +Rufford and his friends, were turning back in their own direction, +John Morton came up with his carriage and the Senator. "Is it all +over?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"All over for to-day," said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"Did you catch the animal?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Gotobed; we couldn't catch him. To tell the truth we didn't +try; but we had a nice little skurry for four or five miles."</p> + +<p>"Some of you look very wet." Captain Glomax and Ned Botsey were +standing near the carriage; but the Captain as soon as he heard this, +broke into a trot and followed the hounds.</p> + +<p>"Some of us are very wet," said Ned. "That's part of the fun."</p> + +<p>"Oh;—that's part of the fun. You found one fox dead and you didn't +kill another because you didn't try. Well; Mr. Morton, I don't think +I shall take to fox hunting even though they should introduce it in +Mickewa. What's become of the rest of the men?"</p> + +<p>"Most of them are in the brook," said Ned Botsey as he rode on +towards Dillsborough.</p> + +<p>Mr. Runciman was also there and trotted on homewards with Botsey, +Larry, and Kate Masters. "I think I've won my bet," said the +hotel-keeper.</p> + +<p>"I don't see that at all. We didn't find in Dillsborough Wood."</p> + +<p>"I say we did find in Dillsborough Wood. We found a fox though +unfortunately the poor brute was dead."</p> + +<p>"The bet's off I should say. What do you say, Larry?"</p> + +<p>Then Runciman argued his case at great length and with much ability. +It had been intended that the bet should be governed by the fact +whether Dillsborough Wood did or did not contain a fox on that +morning. He himself had backed the wood, and Botsey had been strong +in his opinion against the wood. Which of them had been practically +right? Had not the presence of the poisoned fox shown that he was +right? "I think you ought to pay," said Larry.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Botsey riding on, and telling himself that that was +what came from making a bet with a man who was not a gentleman.</p> + +<p>"He's as unhappy about that hat," said Runciman, "as though beer had +gone down a penny a gallon."</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-12" id="c1-12"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> +<h3>ARABELLA TREFOIL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the Sunday the party from Bragton went to the parish church,—and +found it very cold. The duty was done by a young curate who lived in +Dillsborough, there being no house in Bragton for him. The rector +himself had not been in the church for the last six months, being an +invalid. At present he and his wife were away in London, but the +vicarage was kept up for his use. The service was certainly not +alluring. It was a very wet morning and the curate had ridden over +from Dillsborough on a little pony which the rector kept for him in +addition to the £100 per annum paid for his services. That he should +have got over his service quickly was not a matter of surprise,—nor +was it wonderful that there should have been no soul-stirring matter +in his discourse as he had two sermons to preach every week and to +perform single-handed all the other clerical duties of a parish lying +four miles distant from his lodgings. Perhaps had he expected the +presence of so distinguished a critic as the Senator from Mickewa he +might have done better. As it was, being nearly wet through and muddy +up to his knees, he did not do the work very well. When Morton and +his friends left the church and got into the carriage for their +half-mile drive home across the park, Mrs. Morton was the first to +speak. "John," she said, "that church is enough to give any woman her +death. I won't go there any more."</p> + +<p>"They don't understand warming a church in the country," said John +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Is it not a little too large for the congregation?" asked the +Senator.</p> + +<p>The church was large and straggling and ill arranged, and on this +particular Sunday had been almost empty. There was in it an harmonium +which Mrs. Puttock played when she was at home, but in her absence +the attempt made by a few rustics to sing the hymns had not been a +musical success. The whole affair had been very sad, and so the +Paragon had felt it who knew,—and was remembering through the whole +service,—how these things are done in transatlantic cities.</p> + +<p>"The weather kept the people away I suppose," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"Does that gentleman generally draw large congregations?" asked the +persistent Senator.</p> + +<p>"We don't go in for drawing congregations here." Under the +cross-examination of his guest the Secretary of Legation almost lost +his diplomatic good temper. "We have a church in every parish for +those who choose to attend it."</p> + +<p>"And very few do choose," said the Senator. "I can't say that they're +wrong." There seemed at the moment to be no necessity to carry the +disagreeable conversation any further as they had now reached the +house. Mrs. Morton immediately went up-stairs, and the two gentlemen +took themselves to the fire in the so-called library, which room was +being used as more commodious than the big drawing-room. Mr. Gotobed +placed himself on the rug with his back to the fire and immediately +reverted to the Church. "That gentleman is paid by tithes I suppose."</p> + +<p>"He's not the rector. He's a curate."</p> + +<p>"Ah;—just so. He looked like a curate. Doesn't the rector do +anything?" Then Morton, who was by this time heartily sick of +explaining, explained the unfortunate state of Mr. Puttock's health, +and the conversation was carried on till gradually the Senator +learned that Mr. Puttock received £800 a year and a house for doing +nothing, and that he paid his deputy £100 a year with the use of a +pony. "And how long will that be allowed to go on, Mr. Morton?" asked +the Senator.</p> + +<p>To all these inquiries Morton found himself compelled not only to +answer, but to answer the truth. Any prevarication or attempt at +mystification fell to the ground at once under the Senator's +tremendous powers of inquiry. It had been going on for four years, +and would probably go on now till Mr. Puttock died. "A man of his age +with the asthma may live for twenty years," said the Senator who had +already learned that Mr. Puttock was only fifty. Then he ascertained +that Mr. Puttock had not been presented to, or selected for the +living on account of any peculiar fitness;—but that he had been a +fellow of Rufford at Oxford till he was forty-five, when he had +thought it well to marry and take a living. "But he must have been +asthmatic then?" said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"He may have had all the ailments endured by the human race for +anything I know," said the unhappy host.</p> + +<p>"And for anything the bishop cared as far as I can see," said the +Senator. "Well now, I guess, that couldn't occur in our country. A +minister may turn out badly with us as well as with you. But we don't +appoint a man without inquiry as to his fitness,—and if a man can't +do his duty he has to give way to some one who can. If the sick +gentleman took the small portion of the stipend and the working man +the larger, would not better justice be done, and the people better +served?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Puttock has a freehold in the parish."</p> + +<p>"A freehold possession of men's souls! The fact is, Mr. Morton, that +the spirit of conservatism in this country is so strong that you +cannot bear to part with a shred of the barbarism of the middle ages. +And when a rag is sent to the winds you shriek with agony at the +disruption, and think that the wound will be mortal." As Mr. Gotobed +said this he extended his right hand and laid his left on his breast +as though he were addressing the Senate from his own chair. Morton, +who had offered to entertain the gentleman for ten days, sincerely +wished that he were doing so.</p> + +<p>On the Monday afternoon the Trefoils arrived. Mr. Morton, with his +grandmother and both the carriages, went down to receive them,—with +a cart also for the luggage, which was fortunate, as Arabella +Trefoil's big box was very big indeed, and Lady Augustus, though she +was economical in most things, had brought a comfortable amount of +clothes. Each of them had her own lady's maid, so that the two +carriages were necessary. How it was that these ladies lived so +luxuriously was a mystery to their friends, as for some time past +they had enjoyed no particular income of their own. Lord Augustus had +spent everything that came to his hand, and the family owned no house +at all. Nevertheless Arabella Trefoil was to be seen at all parties +magnificently dressed, and never stirred anywhere without her own +maid. It would have been as grievous to her to be called on to live +without food as to go without this necessary appendage. She was a +big, fair girl whose copious hair was managed after such a fashion +that no one could guess what was her own and what was purchased. She +certainly had fine eyes, though I could never imagine how any one +could look at them and think it possible that she should be in love. +They were very large, beautifully blue, but never bright; and the +eyebrows over them were perfect. Her cheeks were somewhat too long +and the distance from her well-formed nose to her upper lip too +great. Her mouth was small and her teeth excellent. But the charm of +which men spoke the most was the brilliance of her complexion. If, as +the ladies said, it was all paint, she, or her maid, must have been a +great artist. It never betrayed itself to be paint. But the beauty on +which she prided herself was the grace of her motion. Though she was +tall and big she never allowed an awkward movement to escape from +her. She certainly did it very well. No young woman could walk across +an archery ground with a finer step, or manage a train with more +perfect ease, or sit upon her horse with a more complete look of +being at home there. No doubt she was slow, but though slow she never +seemed to drag. Now she was, after a certain fashion, engaged to +marry John Morton and perhaps she was one of the most unhappy young +persons in England.</p> + +<p>She had long known that it was her duty to marry, and especially her +duty to marry well. Between her and her mother there had been no +reticence on this subject. With worldly people in general, though the +worldliness is manifest enough and is taught by plain lessons from +parents to their children, yet there is generally some thin veil even +among themselves, some transparent tissue of lies, which, though they +never quite hope to deceive each other, does produce among them +something of the comfort of deceit. But between Lady Augustus and her +daughter there had for many years been nothing of the kind. The +daughter herself had been too honest for it. "As for caring about +him, mamma," she had once said, speaking of a suitor, "of course I +don't. He is nasty, and odious in every way. But I have got to do the +best I can, and what is the use of talking about such trash as that?" +Then there had been no more trash between them.</p> + +<p>It was not John Morton whom Arabella Trefoil had called nasty and +odious. She had had many lovers, and had been engaged to not a few, +and perhaps she liked John Morton as well as any of them,—except +one. He was quiet, and looked like a gentleman, and was reputed for +no vices. Nor did she quarrel with her fate in that he himself was +not addicted to any pleasures. She herself did not care much for +pleasure. But she did care to be a great lady,—one who would be +allowed to swim out of rooms before others, one who could snub +others, one who could show real diamonds when others wore paste, one +who might be sure to be asked everywhere even by the people who hated +her. She rather liked being hated by women and did not want any man +to be in love with her,—except as far as might be sufficient for the +purpose of marriage. The real diamonds and the high rank would not be +hers with John Morton. She would have to be content with such rank as +is accorded to Ministers at the Courts at which they are employed. +The fall would be great from what she had once expected,—and +therefore she was miserable. There had been a young man, of immense +wealth, of great rank, whom at one time she really had fancied that +she had loved;—but just as she was landing her prey, the prey had +been rescued from her by powerful friends, and she had been all but +broken-hearted. Mr. Morton's fortune was in her eyes small, and she +was beginning to learn that he knew how to take care of his own +money. Already there had been difficulties as to settlements, +difficulties as to pin-money, difficulties as to residence, Lady +Augustus having been very urgent. John Morton, who had really been +captivated by the beauty of Arabella, was quite in earnest; but there +were subjects on which he would not give way. He was anxious to put +his best leg foremost so that the beauty might be satisfied and might +become his own, but there was a limit beyond which he would not go. +Lady Augustus had more than once said to her daughter that it would +not do;—and then there would be all the weary work to do again!</p> + +<p>Nobody seeing the meeting on the platform would have imagined that +Mr. Morton and Miss Trefoil were lovers,—and as for Lady Augustus it +would have been thought that she was in some special degree offended +with the gentleman who had come to meet her. She just gave him the +tip of her fingers and then turned away to her maid and called for +the porters and made herself particular and disagreeable. Arabella +vouchsafed a cold smile, but then her smiles were always cold. After +that she stood still and shivered. "Are you cold?" asked Morton. She +shook her head and shivered again. "Perhaps you are tired?" Then she +nodded her head. When her maid came to her in some trouble about the +luggage, she begged that she might not be "bothered;" saying that no +doubt her mother knew all about it. "Can I do anything?" asked +Morton. "Nothing at all I should think," said Miss Trefoil. In the +meantime old Mrs. Morton was standing by as black as thunder—for the +Trefoil ladies had hardly noticed her.</p> + +<p>The luggage turned up all right at last,—as luggage always does, and +was stowed away in the cart. Then came the carriage arrangement. +Morton had intended that the two elder ladies should go together with +one of the maids, and that he should put his love into the other, +which having a seat behind, could accommodate the second girl without +disturbing them in the carriage. But Lady Augustus had made some +exception to this and had begged that her daughter might be seated +with herself. It was a point which Morton could not contest out there +among the porters and drivers, so that at last he and his grandmother +had the phaeton together with the two maids in the rumble. "I never +saw such manners in all my life," said the Honourable Mrs. Morton, +almost bursting with passion.</p> + +<p>"They are cold and tired, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"No lady should be too cold or too tired to conduct herself with +propriety. No real lady is ever so."</p> + +<p>"The place is strange to them, you know."</p> + +<p>"I hope with all my heart that it may never be otherwise than strange +to them."</p> + +<p>When they arrived at the house the strangers were carried into the +library and tea was of course brought to them. The American Senator +was there, but the greetings were very cold. Mrs. Morton took her +place and offered her hospitality in the most frigid manner. There +had not been the smallest spark of love's flame shown as yet, nor did +the girl as she sat sipping her tea seem to think that any such spark +was wanted. Morton did get a seat beside her and managed to take away +her muff and one of her shawls, but she gave them to him almost as +she might have done to a servant. She smiled indeed,—but she smiled +as some women smile at everybody who has any intercourse with them. +"I think perhaps Mrs. Morton will let us go up-stairs," said Lady +Augustus. Mrs. Morton immediately rang the bell and prepared to +precede the ladies to their chambers. Let them be as insolent as they +would she would do what she conceived to be her duty. Then Lady +Augustus stalked out of the room and her daughter swum after her. +"They don't seem to be quite the same as they were in Washington," +said the Senator.</p> + +<p>John Morton got up and left the room without making any reply. He was +thoroughly unhappy. What was he to do for a week with such a houseful +of people? And then, what was he to do for all his life if the +presiding spirit of the house was to be such a one as this? She was +very beautiful,—certainly. So he told himself; and yet as he walked +round the park he almost repented of what he had done. But after +twenty minutes' fast walking he was able to convince himself that all +the fault on this occasion lay with the mother. Lady Augustus had +been fatigued with her journey and had therefore made everybody near +her miserable.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-13" id="c1-13"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> +<h3>AT BRAGTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When the ladies went up-stairs the afternoon was not half over and +they did not dine till past seven. As Morton returned to the house in +the dusk he thought that perhaps Arabella might make some attempt to +throw herself in his way. She had often done so when they were not +engaged, and surely she might do so now. There was nothing to prevent +her coming down to the library when she had got rid of her travelling +clothes, and in this hope he looked into the room. As soon as the +door was open the Senator, who was preparing his lecture in his mind, +at once asked whether no one in England had an apparatus for warming +rooms such as was to be found in every well-built house in the +States. The Paragon hardly vouchsafed him a word of reply, but +escaped up-stairs, trusting that he might meet Miss Trefoil on the +way. He was a bold man and even ventured to knock at her door;—but +there was no reply, and, fearing the Senator, he had to betake +himself to his own privacy. Miss Trefoil had migrated to her mother's +room, and there, over the fire, was holding a little domestic +conversation. "I never saw such a barrack in my life," said Lady +Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Of course, mamma, we knew that we should find the house such as it +was left a hundred years ago. He told us that himself."</p> + +<p>"He should have put something in it to make it at any rate decent +before we came in."</p> + +<p>"What's the use if he's to live always at foreign courts?"</p> + +<p>"He intends to come home sometimes, I suppose, and, if he didn't, you +would." Lady Augustus was not going to let her daughter marry a man +who could not give her a home for at any rate a part of the year. "Of +course he must furnish the place and have an immense deal done before +he can marry. I think it is a piece of impudence to bring one to such +a place as this."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, mamma, because he told us all about it."</p> + +<p>"The more I see of it all, Arabella, the more sure I am that it won't +do."</p> + +<p>"It must do, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Twelve hundred a year is all that he offers, and his lawyer says +that he will make no stipulation whatever as to an allowance."</p> + +<p>"Really, mamma, you might leave that to me."</p> + +<p>"I like to have everything fixed, my dear,—and certain."</p> + +<p>"Nothing really ever is certain. While there is anything to get you +may be sure that I shall have my share. As far as money goes I'm not +a bit afraid of having the worst of it,—only there will be so very +little between us."</p> + +<p>"That's just it."</p> + +<p>"There's no doubt about the property, mamma."</p> + +<p>"A nasty beggarly place!"</p> + +<p>"And from what everybody says he's sure to be a minister or +ambassador or something of that sort."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt he will. And where'll he have to go to? To Brazil, or +the West Indies, or some British Colony," said her ladyship showing +her ignorance of the Foreign Office service. "That might be very +well. You could stay at home. Only where would you live? He wouldn't +keep a house in town for you. Is this the sort of place you'd like?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it makes any difference where one is," said Arabella +disgusted.</p> + +<p>"But I do,—a very great difference. It seems to me that he's +altogether under the control of that hideous old termagant. Arabella, +I think you'd better make up your mind that it won't do."</p> + +<p>"It must do," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"You're very fond of him it seems."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, how you do delight to torture me;—as if my life weren't bad +enough without your making it worse."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, my dear, what I'm bound to tell you—as your mother. I +have my duty to do whether it's painful or not."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, mamma. You know it is. That might have been all +very well ten years ago."</p> + +<p>"You were almost in your cradle, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Psha! cradle! I'll tell you what it is, mamma. I've been at it till +I'm nearly broken down. I must settle somewhere;—or else die;—or +else run away. I can't stand this any longer and I won't. Talk of +work,—men's work! What man ever has to work as I do?" I wonder which +was the hardest part of that work, the hairdressing and painting and +companionship of the lady's maid or the continual smiling upon +unmarried men to whom she had nothing to say and for whom she did not +in the least care! "I can't do it any more, and I won't. As for Mr. +Morton, I don't care that for him. You know I don't. I never cared +much for anybody, and shall never again care at all."</p> + +<p>"You'll find that will come all right after you are married."</p> + +<p>"Like you and papa, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"My dear, I had no mother to take care of me, or I shouldn't have +married your father."</p> + +<p>"I wish you hadn't, because then I shouldn't be going to marry Mr. +Morton. But, as I have got so far, for heaven's sake let it go on. If +you break with him I'll tell him everything and throw myself into his +hands." Lady Augustus sighed deeply. "I will, mamma. It was you +spotted this man, and when you said that you thought it would do, I +gave way. He was the last man in the world I should have thought of +myself."</p> + +<p>"We had heard so much about Bragton!"</p> + +<p>"And Bragton is here. The estate is not out of elbows."</p> + +<p>"My dear, my opinion is that we've made a mistake. He's not the sort +of man I took him to be. He's as hard as a file."</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me, mamma."</p> + +<p>"You are determined then?"</p> + +<p>"I think I am. At any rate let me look about me. Don't give him an +opportunity of breaking off till I have made up my mind. I can always +break off if I like it. No one in London has heard of the engagement +yet. Just leave me alone for this week to see what I think about it." +Then Lady Augustus threw herself back in her chair and went to sleep, +or pretended to do so.</p> + +<p>A little after half-past seven she and her daughter, dressed for +dinner, went down to the library together. The other guests were +assembled there, and Mrs. Morton was already plainly expressing her +anger at the tardiness of her son's guests. The Senator had got hold +of Mr. Mainwaring and was asking pressing questions as to church +patronage,—a subject not very agreeable to the rector of St. John's, +as his living had been bought for him with his wife's money during +the incumbency of an old gentleman of seventy-eight. Mr. Cooper, who +was himself nearly that age and who was vicar of Mallingham, a parish +which ran into Dillsborough and comprehended a part of its +population, was listening to these queries with awe,—and perhaps +with some little gratification, as he had been presented to his +living by the bishop after a curacy of many years. "This kind of +things, I believe, can be bought and sold in the market," said the +Senator, speaking every word with absolute distinctness. But as he +paused for an answer the two ladies came in and the conversation was +changed. Both the clergymen were introduced to Lady Augustus and her +daughter, and Mr. Mainwaring at once took refuge under the shadow of +the ladies' title.</p> + +<p>Arabella did not sit down, so that Morton had an opportunity of +standing near to his love. "I suppose you are very tired," he said.</p> + +<p>"Not in the least." She smiled her sweetest as she answered him,—but +yet it was not very sweet. "Of course we were tired and cross when we +got out of the train. People always are; aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps ladies are."</p> + +<p>"We were. But all that about the carriages, Mr. Morton, wasn't my +doing. Mamma had been talking to me so much that I didn't know +whether I was on my head or my heels. It was very good of you to come +and meet us, and I ought to have been more gracious." In this way she +made her peace, and as she was quite in earnest,—doing a portion of +the hard work of her life,—she continued to smile as sweetly as she +could. Perhaps he liked it;—but any man endowed with that power of +appreciation which we call sympathy, would have felt it to be as cold +as though it had come from a figure on a glass window.</p> + +<p>The dinner was announced. Mr. Morton was honoured with the hand of +Lady Augustus. The Senator handed the old lady into the dining-room +and Mr. Mainwaring the younger lady,—so that Arabella was sitting +next to her lover. It had all been planned by Morton and acceded to +by his grandmother. Mr. Gotobed throughout the dinner had the best of +the conversation, though Lady Augustus had power enough to snub him +on more than one occasion. "Suppose we were to allow at once," she +said, "that everything is better in the United States than anywhere +else, shouldn't we get along easier?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know that getting along easy is what we have particularly +got in view," said Mr. Gotobed, who was certainly in quest of +information.</p> + +<p>"But it is what I have in view, Mr. Gotobed;—so if you please we'll +take the pre-eminence of your country for granted." Then she turned +to Mr. Mainwaring on the other side. Upon this the Senator addressed +himself for a while to the table at large and had soon forgotten +altogether the expression of the lady's wishes.</p> + +<p>"I believe you have a good many churches about here," said Lady +Augustus trying to make conversation to her neighbour.</p> + +<p>"One in every parish, I fancy," said Mr. Mainwaring, who preferred +all subjects to clerical subjects. "I suppose London is quite empty +now."</p> + +<p>"We came direct from the Duke's," said Lady Augustus,—"and did not +even sleep in town;—but it is empty." The Duke was the brother of +Lord Augustus, and a compromise had been made with Lady Augustus, by +which she and her daughter should be allowed a fortnight every year +at the Duke's place in the country, and a certain amount of +entertainment in town.</p> + +<p>"I remember the Duke at Christchurch," said the parson. "He and I +were of the same par. He was Lord Mistletoe then. Dear me, that was a +long time ago. I wonder whether he remembers being upset out of a +trap with me one day after dinner. I suppose we had dined in earnest. +He has gone his way, and I have gone mine, and I've never seen him +since. Pray remember me to him." Lady Augustus said she would, and +did entertain some little increased respect for the clergyman who +could boast that he had been tipsy in company with her worthy +brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>Poor Mr. Cooper did not get on very well with Mrs. Morton. All his +remembrances of the old squire were eulogistic and affectionate. Hers +were just the reverse. He had a good word to say for Reginald +Morton,—to which she would not even listen. She was willing enough +to ask questions about the Mallingham tenants;—but Mr. Cooper would +revert back to the old days, and so conversation was at an end.</p> + +<p>Morton tried to make himself agreeable to his left-hand +neighbour,—trying also very hard to make himself believe that he was +happy in his immediate position. How often in the various amusements +of the world is one tempted to pause a moment and ask oneself whether +one really likes it! He was conscious that he was working hard, +struggling to be happy, painfully anxious to be sure that he was +enjoying the luxury of being in love. But he was not at all +contented. There she was, and very beautiful she looked; and he +thought that he could be proud of her if she sat at the end of his +table;—and he knew that she was engaged to be his wife. But he +doubted whether she was in love with him; and he almost doubted +sometimes whether he was very much in love with her. He asked her in +so many words what he should do to amuse her. Would she like to ride +with him, as if so he would endeavour to get saddle-horses. Would she +like to go out hunting? Would she be taken round to see the +neighbouring towns, Rufford and Norrington? "Lord Rufford lives +somewhere near Rufford?" she asked. Yes;—he lived at Rufford Hall, +three or four miles from the town. Did Lord Rufford hunt? Morton +believed that he was greatly given to hunting. Then he asked Arabella +whether she knew the young lord. She had just met him, she said, and +had only asked the question because of the name. "He is one of my +neighbours down here," said Morton;—"but being always away of course +I see nothing of him." After that Arabella consented to be taken out +on horseback to see a meet of the hounds although she could not hunt. +"We must see what we can do about horses," he said. She however +professed her readiness to go in the carriage if a saddle-horse could +not be found.</p> + +<p>The dinner party I fear was very dull. Mr. Mainwaring perhaps liked +it because he was fond of dining anywhere away from home. Mr. Cooper +was glad once more to see his late old friend's old dining-room. Mr. +Gotobed perhaps obtained some information. But otherwise the affair +was dull. "Are we to have a week of this?" said Lady Augustus when +she found herself up-stairs.</p> + +<p>"You must, mamma, if we are to stay till we go to the Gores. Lord +Rufford is here in the neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>"But they don't know each other."</p> + +<p>"Yes they do;—slightly. I am to go to the meet some day and he'll be +there."</p> + +<p>"It might be dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, mamma! And after all you've been saying about dropping Mr. +Morton!"</p> + +<p>"But there is nothing so bad as a useless flirtation."</p> + +<p>"Do I ever flirt? Oh, mamma, that after so many years you shouldn't +know me! Did you ever see me yet making myself happy in any way? What +nonsense you talk!" Then without waiting for, or making, any apology, +she walked off to her own room.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-14" id="c1-14"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> +<h3>THE DILLSBOROUGH FEUD.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"It's that nasty, beastly, drunken club," said Mrs. Masters to her +unfortunate husband on the Wednesday morning. It may perhaps be +remembered that the poisoned fox was found on the Saturday, and it +may be imagined that Mr. Goarly had risen in importance since that +day. On the Saturday Bean with a couple of men employed by Lord +Rufford, had searched the wood, and found four or five red herrings +poisoned with strychnine. There had been no doubt about the magnitude +of the offence. On the Monday a detective policeman, dressed of +course in rustic disguise but not the less known to every one in the +place, was wandering about between Dillsborough and Dillsborough Wood +and making futile inquiries as to the purchase of strychnine,—and +also as to the purchase of red herrings. But every one knew, and such +leading people as Runciman and Dr. Nupper were not slow to declare, +that Dillsborough was the only place in England in which one might be +sure that those articles had not been purchased. And on the Tuesday +it began to be understood that Goarly had applied to Bearside, the +other attorney, in reference to his claim against Lord Rufford's +pheasants. He had contemptuously refused the 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> an acre +offered him, and put his demand at 40<i>s.</i> As to the poisoned fox and +the herrings and the strychnine Goarly declared that he didn't care +if there were twenty detectives in the place. He stated it to be his +opinion that Larry Twentyman had put down the poison. It was all very +well, Goarly said, for Larry to be fond of gentlemen and to ride to +hounds, and make pretences;—but Larry liked his turkeys as well as +anybody else, and Larry had put down the poison. In this matter +Goarly overreached himself. No one in Dillsborough could be brought +to believe that. Even Harry Stubbings was ready to swear that he +should suspect himself as soon. But nothing was clearer than +this,—that Goarly was going to make a stand against the hunt and +especially against Lord Rufford. He had gone to Bearside and Bearside +had taken up the matter in a serious way. Then it became known very +quickly that Bearside had already received money, and it was surmised +that Goarly had some one at his back. Lord Rufford had lately ejected +from a house of his on the other side of the county a discontented +litigious retired grocer from Rufford, who had made some money and +had set himself up in a pretty little residence with a few acres of +land. The man had made himself objectionable and had been +dispossessed. The man's name was Scrobby; and hence had come these +sorrows. This was the story that had already made itself known in +Dillsborough on the Tuesday evening. But up to that time not a tittle +of evidence had come to light as to the purchase of the red herrings +or the strychnine. All that was known was the fact that had not Tony +Tuppett stopped the hounds before they reached the wood, there must +have been a terrible mortality. "It's that nasty, beastly, drunken +club," said Mrs. Masters to her husband. Of course it was at this +time known to the lady that her husband had thrown away Goarly's +business and that it had been transferred to Bearside. It was also +surmised by her, as it was by the town in general, that Goarly's +business would come to considerable dimensions;—just the sort of +case as would have been sure to bring popularity if carried through, +as Nickem, the senior clerk, would have carried it. And as soon as +Scrobby's name was heard by Mrs. Masters, there was no end to the +money in the lady's imagination to which this very case might not +have amounted.</p> + +<p>"The club had nothing to do with it, my dear."</p> + +<p>"What time did you come home on Saturday night;—or Sunday morning I +mean? Do you mean to tell me you didn't settle it there?"</p> + +<p>"There was no nastiness, and no beastliness, and no drunkenness about +it. I told you before I went that I wouldn't take it."</p> + +<p>"No;—you didn't. How on earth are you to go on if you chuck the +children's bread out of their mouths in that way?"</p> + +<p>"You won't believe me. Do you ask Twentyman what sort of a man Goarly +is." The attorney knew that Larry was in great favour with his wife +as being the favoured suitor for Mary's hand, and had thought that +this argument would be very strong.</p> + +<p>"I don't want Mr. Twentyman to teach me what is proper for my +family,—nor yet to teach you your business. Mr. Twentyman has his +own way of living. He brought home Kate the other day with hardly a +rag of her sister's habit left. She don't go out hunting any more."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Indeed for the matter of that I don't see how any of them are to do +anything. What'll Lord Rufford do for you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want Lord Rufford to do anything for me." The attorney was +beginning to have his spirit stirred within him.</p> + +<p>"You don't want anybody to do anything, and yet you will do nothing +yourself,—just because a set of drinking fellows in a tap-room, +which you call a <span class="nowrap">club—"</span></p> + +<p>"It isn't a tap-room."</p> + +<p>"It's worse, because nobody can see what you're doing. I know how it +was. You hadn't the pluck to hold to your own when Runciman told you +not." There was a spice of truth in this which made it all the more +bitter. "Runciman knows on which side his bread is buttered. He can +make his money out of these swearing-tearing fellows. He can send in +his bills, and get them paid too. And it's all very well for Larry +Twentyman to be hobbing and nobbing with the likes of them Botseys. +But for a father of a family like you to be put off his business by +what Mr. Runciman says is a shame."</p> + +<p>"I shall manage my business as I think fit," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"And when we're all in the poor-house what'll you do then?" said Mrs. +Masters,—with her handkerchief out at the spur of the moment. +Whenever she roused her husband to a state of bellicose ire by her +taunts she could always reduce him again by her tears. Being well +aware of this he would bear the taunts as long as he could, knowing +that the tears would be still worse. He was so soft-hearted that when +she affected to be miserable, he could not maintain the sternness of +his demeanour and leave her in her misery. "When everything has gone +away from us, what are we to do? My little bit of money has +disappeared ever so long." Then she sat herself down in her chair and +had a great cry. It was useless for him to remind her that hitherto +she had never wanted anything for herself or her children. She was +resolved that everything was going to the dogs because Goarly's case +had been refused. "And what will all those sporting men do for you?" +she repeated. "I hate the very name of a gentleman;—so I do. I wish +Goarly had killed all the foxes in the county. Nasty vermin! What +good are the likes of them?"</p> + +<p>Nickem, the senior clerk, was at first made almost as unhappy as Mrs. +Masters by the weak decision to which his employer had come, and had +in the first flush of his anger resolved to leave the office. He was +sure that the case was one which would just have suited him. He would +have got up the evidence as to the fertility of the land, the +enormous promise of crop, and the ultimate absolute barrenness, to a +marvel. He would have proved clouds of pheasants. And then Goarly's +humble position, futile industry, and general poverty might have been +contrasted beautifully with Lord Rufford's wealth, idleness, and +devotion to sport. Anything above the 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> an acre obtained +against the lord would have been a triumph, and he thought that if +the thing had been well managed, they might probably have got 15<i>s.</i> +And then, in such a case, Lord Rufford could hardly have taxed the +costs. It was really suicide for an attorney to throw away business +so excellent as this. And now it had gone to Bearside whom Nickem +remembered as a junior to himself when they were both young +hobbledehoys at Norrington,—a dirty, blear-eyed, pimply-faced boy +who was suspected of purloining halfpence out of coat-pockets. The +thing was very trying to Nat Nickem. But suddenly, before that +Wednesday was over, another idea had occurred to him, and he was +almost content. He knew Goarly, and he had heard of Scrobby and +Scrobby's history in regard to the tenement at Rufford. As he could +not get Goarly's case why should he not make something of the case +against Goarly? That detective was merely eking out his time and +having an idle week among the public-houses. If he could set himself +up as an amateur detective he thought that he might perhaps get to +the bottom of it all. It is not a bad thing to be concerned on the +same side with a lord when the lord is in earnest. Lord Rufford was +very angry about the poison in the covert and would probably be ready +to pay very handsomely for having the criminal found and punished. +The criminal of course was Goarly. Nickem did not doubt that for a +moment, and would not have doubted it whichever side he might have +taken. Nickem did not suppose that any one for a moment really +doubted Goarly's guilt. But to his eyes such certainty amounted to +nothing, if evidence of the crime were not forthcoming. He probably +felt within his own bosom that the last judgment of all would depend +in some way on terrestrial evidence, and was quite sure that it was +by such that a man's conscience should be affected. If Goarly had so +done the deed as to be beyond the possibility of detection, Nickem +could not have brought himself to regard Goarly as a sinner. As it +was he had considerable respect for Goarly;—but might it not be +possible to drop down upon Scrobby? Bearside with his case against +the lord would be nowhere, if Goarly could be got to own that he had +been suborned by Scrobby to put down the poison. Or, if in default of +this, any close communication could be proved between Goarly and +Scrobby,—Scrobby's injury and spirit of revenge being patent,—then +too Bearside would not have much of a case. A jury would look at that +question of damages with a very different eye if Scrobby's spirit of +revenge could be proved at the trial, and also the poisoning, and +also machinations between Scrobby and Goarly.</p> + +<p>Nickem was a little red-haired man about forty, who wrote a good +flourishing hand, could endure an immense amount of work, and drink a +large amount of alcohol without being drunk. His nose and face were +all over blotches, and he looked to be dissipated and disreputable. +But, as he often boasted, no one could say that "black was the white +of his eye;"—by which he meant to insinuate that he had not been +detected in anything dishonest and that he was never too tipsy to do +his work. He was a married man and did not keep his wife and children +in absolute comfort; but they lived, and Mr. Nickem in some fashion +paid his way.</p> + +<p>There was another clerk in the office, a very much younger man, named +Sundown, and Nickem could not make his proposition to Mr. Masters +till Sundown had left the office. Nickem himself had only matured his +plans at dinner time and was obliged to be reticent, till at six +o'clock Sundown took himself off. Mr. Masters was, at the moment, +locking his own desk, when Nickem winked at him to stay. Mr. Masters +did stay, and Sundown did at last leave the office.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't let me leave home for three days?" said Nickem. "There +ain't much a doing."</p> + +<p>"What do you want it for?"</p> + +<p>"That Goarly is a great blackguard, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Very likely. Do you know anything about him?"</p> + +<p>Nickem scratched his head and rubbed his chin. "I think I could +manage to know something."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'm quite prepared to say, sir. I shouldn't use your +name of course. But they're down upon Lord Rufford, and if you could +lend me a trifle of 30<i>s.</i>, sir, I think I could get to the bottom of +it. His lordship would be awful obliged to any one who could hit it +off."</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters did give his clerk leave for three days, and did advance +him the required money. And when he suggested in a whisper that +perhaps the circumstance need not be mentioned to Mrs. Masters, +Nickem winked again and put his fore-finger to the side of his big +carbuncled nose.</p> + +<p>That evening Larry Twentyman came in, but was not received with any +great favour by Mrs. Masters. There was growing up at this moment in +Dillsborough the bitterness of real warfare between the friends and +enemies of sport in general, and Mrs. Masters was ranking herself +thereby among the enemies. Larry was of course one of the friends. +But unhappily there was a slight difference of sentiment even in +Larry's own house, and on this very morning old Mrs. Twentyman had +expressed to Mrs. Masters a feeling of wrong which had gradually +risen from the annual demolition of her pet broods of turkeys. She +declared that for the last three years every turkey poult had gone, +and that at last she was beginning to feel it. "It's over a hundred +of 'em they've had, and it is wearing," said the old woman. Larry had +twenty times begged her to give up the rearing turkeys, but her heart +had been too high for that. "I don't know why Lord Rufford's foxes +are to be thought of always, and nobody is to think about your poor +mother's poultry," said Mrs. Masters, lugging the subject in neck and +heels.</p> + +<p>"Has she been talking to you, Mrs. Masters, about her turkeys?"</p> + +<p>"Your mother may speak to me I suppose if she likes it, without +offence to Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford has got nothing to do with it."</p> + +<p>"The wood belongs to him," said Mrs. Masters.</p> + +<p>"Foxes are much better than turkeys anyway," said Kate Masters.</p> + +<p>"If you don't hold your tongue, miss, you'll be sent to bed. The wood +belongs to his lordship, and the foxes are a nuisance."</p> + +<p>"He keeps the foxes for the county, and where would the county be +without them?" began Larry. "What is it brings money into such a +place as this?"</p> + +<p>"To Runciman's stables and Harry Stubbings and the like of them. What +money does it bring in to steady honest people?"</p> + +<p>"Look at all the grooms," said Larry.</p> + +<p>"The impudentest set of young vipers about the place," said the lady.</p> + +<p>"Look at Grice's business." Grice was the saddler.</p> + +<p>"Grice indeed! What's Grice?"</p> + +<p>"And the price of horses?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—making everything dear that ought to be cheap. I don't see and +I never shall see and I never will see any good in extravagant +idleness. As for Kate she shall never go out hunting again. She has +torn Mary's habit to pieces. And shooting is worse. Why is a man to +have a flock of voracious cormorants come down upon his corn fields? +I'm all in favour of Goarly, and so I tell you, Mr. Twentyman." After +this poor Larry went away, finding that he had no opportunity for +saying a word to Mary Masters.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-15" id="c1-15"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> +<h3>A FIT COMPANION,—FOR ME AND MY SISTERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On that same Wednesday Reginald Morton had called at the attorney's +house, had asked for Miss Masters, and had found her alone. Mrs. +Masters at the time had been out, picking up intelligence about the +great case, and the two younger girls had been at school. Reginald, +as he walked home from Bragton all alone on that occasion when Larry +had returned with Mary, was quite sure that he would never willingly +go into Mary's presence again. Why should he disturb his mind about +such a girl,—one who could rush into the arms of such a man as Larry +Twentyman? Or, indeed, why disturb his mind about any girl? That was +not the manner of life which he planned for himself. After that he +shut himself up for a few days and was not much seen by any of the +Dillsborough folk. But on this Wednesday he received a letter, +and,—as he told himself, merely in consequence of that letter,—he +called at the attorney's house and asked for Miss Masters.</p> + +<p>He was shown up into the beautiful drawing-room, and in a few minutes +Mary came to him. "I have brought you a letter from my aunt," he +said.</p> + +<p>"From Lady Ushant? I am so glad."</p> + +<p>"She was writing to me and she put this under cover. I know what it +contains. She wants you to go to her at Cheltenham for a month."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Morton!"</p> + +<p>"Would you like to go?"</p> + +<p>"How should I not like to go? Lady Ushant is my dearest, dearest +friend. It is so very good of her to think of me."</p> + +<p>"She talks of the first week in December and wants you to be there +for Christmas."</p> + +<p>"I don't at all know that I can go, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"Why not go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid mamma will not spare me." There were many reasons. She +could hardly go on such a visit without some renewal of her scanty +wardrobe, which perhaps the family funds would not permit. And, as +she knew very well, Mrs. Masters was not at all favourable to Lady +Ushant. If the old lady had altogether kept Mary it might have been +very well; but she had not done so and Mrs. Masters had more than +once said that that kind of thing must be all over;—meaning that +Mary was to drop her intimacy with high-born people that were of no +real use. And then there was Mr. Twentyman and his suit. Mary had for +some time felt that her step-mother intended her to understand that +her only escape from home would be by becoming Mrs. Twentyman. "I +don't think it will be possible, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"My aunt will be very sorry."</p> + +<p>"Oh,—how sorry shall I be! It is like having another little bit of +heaven before me."</p> + +<p>Then he said what he certainly should not have said. "I thought, Miss +Masters, that your heaven was all here."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that, Mr. Morton?" she asked blushing up to her +hair. Of course she knew what he meant, and of course she was angry +with him. Ever since that walk her mind had been troubled by ideas as +to what he would think about her, and now he was telling her what he +thought.</p> + +<p>"I fancied that you were happy here without going to see an old woman +who after all has not much amusement to offer to you."</p> + +<p>"I don't want any amusement."</p> + +<p>"At any rate you will answer Lady Ushant?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall answer her."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can let me know. She wishes me to take you to +Cheltenham. I shall go for a couple of days, but I shall not stay +longer. If you are going perhaps you would allow me to travel with +you."</p> + +<p>"Of course it would be very kind; but I don't suppose that I shall +go. I am sure Lady Ushant won't believe that I am kept away from her +by any pleasure of my own here. I can explain it all to her and she +will understand me." She hardly meant to reproach him. She did not +mean to assume an intimacy sufficient for reproach. But he felt that +she had reproached him. "I love Lady Ushant so dearly that I would go +anywhere to see her if I could."</p> + +<p>"Then I think it could be managed. Your father—"</p> + +<p>"Papa does not attend much to us girls. It is mamma that manages all +that. At any rate, I will write to Lady Ushant, and will ask papa to +let you know."</p> + +<p>Then it seemed as though there were nothing else for him but to +go;—and yet he wanted to say some other word. If he had been cruel +in throwing Mr. Twentyman in her teeth, surely he ought to apologize. +"I did not mean to say anything to offend you."</p> + +<p>"You have not offended me at all, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"If I did think that,—that—"</p> + +<p>"It does not signify in the least. I only want Lady Ushant to +understand that if I could possibly go to her I would rather do that +than anything else in the world. Because Lady Ushant is kind to me I +needn't expect other people to be so." Reginald Morton was of course +the "other people."</p> + +<p>Then he paused a moment. "I did so long," he said, "to walk round the +old place with you the other day before these people came there, and +I was so disappointed when you would not come with me."</p> + +<p>"I was coming."</p> + +<p>"But you went back with—that other man."</p> + +<p>"Of course I did when you showed so plainly that you didn't want him +to join you. What was I to do? I couldn't send him away. Mr. +Twentyman is a very intimate friend of ours, and very kind to Dolly +and Kate."</p> + +<p>"I wished so much to talk to you about the old days."</p> + +<p>"And I wish to go to your aunt, Mr. Morton; but we can't all of us +have what we wish. Of course I saw that you were very angry, but I +couldn't help that. Perhaps it was wrong in Mr. Twentyman to offer to +walk with you."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say so at all."</p> + +<p>"You looked it at any rate, Mr. Morton. And as Mr. Twentyman is a +friend of <span class="nowrap">ours—"</span></p> + +<p>"You were angry with me."</p> + +<p>"I don't say that. But as you were too grand for our friend of course +you were too grand for us."</p> + +<p>"That is a very unkind way of putting it. I don't think I am grand. A +man may wish to have a little conversation with a very old friend +without being interrupted, and yet not be grand. I dare say Mr. +Twentyman is just as good as I am."</p> + +<p>"You don't think that, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"I believe him to be a great deal better, for he earns his bread, and +takes care of his mother, and as far as I know does his duty +thoroughly."</p> + +<p>"I know the difference, Mr. Morton, and of course I know how you feel +it. I don't suppose that Mr. Twentyman is a fit companion for any of +the Mortons, but for all that he may be a fit companion for me,—and +my sisters." Surely she must have said this with the express object +of declaring to him that in spite of the advantages of her education +she chose to put herself in the ranks of the Twentymans, Runcimans +and such like. He had come there ardently wishing that she might be +allowed to go to his aunt, and resolved that he would take her +himself if it were possible. But now he almost thought that she had +better not go. If she had made her election, she must be allowed to +abide by it. If she meant to marry Mr. Twentyman what good could she +get by associating with his aunt or with him? And had she not as good +as told him that she meant to marry Mr. Twentyman? She had at any +rate very plainly declared that she regarded Mr. Twentyman as her +equal in rank. Then he took his leave without any further +explanation. Even if she did go to Cheltenham he would not take her.</p> + +<p>After that he walked straight out to Bragton. He was of course +altogether unconscious what grand things his cousin John had intended +to do by him, had not the Honourable old lady interfered; but he had +made up his mind that duty required him to call at the house. So he +walked by the path across the bridge and when he came out on the +gravel road near the front door he found a gentleman smoking a cigar +and looking around him. It was Mr. Gotobed who had just returned from +a visit which he had made, the circumstances of which must be +narrated in the next chapter. The Senator lifted his hat and remarked +that it was a very fine afternoon. Reginald lifted his hat and +assented. "Mr. Morton, sir, I think is out with the ladies, taking a +drive."</p> + +<p>"I will leave a card then."</p> + +<p>"The old lady is at home, sir, if you wish to see her," continued the +Senator following Reginald up to the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Reginald, is that you?" said old Mrs. Hopkins taking the +card. "They are all out,—except herself." As he certainly did not +wish to see "herself," he greeted the old woman and left his card.</p> + +<p>"You live in these parts, sir?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"In the town yonder."</p> + +<p>"Because Mr. Morton's housekeeper seems to know you."</p> + +<p>"She knows me very well as I was brought up in this house. Good +morning to you."</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon to you, sir. Perhaps you can tell me who lives in +that country residence,—what you call a farm-house,—on the other +side of the road." Reginald said that he presumed the gentleman was +alluding to Mr. Twentyman's house.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes,—I dare say. That was the name I heard up there. You are +not Mr. Twentyman, sir?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Morton."</p> + +<p>"Morton, is it;—perhaps my friend's;—ah—ah,—yes." He didn't like +to say uncle because Reginald didn't look old enough, and he knew he +ought not to say brother, because the elder brother in England would +certainly have had the property.</p> + +<p>"I am Mr. John Morton's cousin."</p> + +<p>"Oh;—Mr. Morton's cousin. I asked whether you were the owner of that +farm-house because I intruded just now by passing through the yards, +and I would have apologized. Good afternoon to you, sir." Then +Reginald having thus done his duty returned home.</p> + +<p>Mary Masters when she was alone was again very angry with herself. +She knew thoroughly how perverse she had been when she declared that +Larry Twentyman was a fit companion for herself, and that she had +said it on purpose to punish the man who was talking to her. Not a +day passed, or hardly an hour of a day, in which she did not tell +herself that the education she had received and the early +associations of her life had made her unfit for the marriage which +her friends were urging upon her. It was the one great sorrow of her +life. She even repented of the good things of her early days because +they had given her a distaste for what might have otherwise been +happiness and good fortune. There had been moments in which she had +told herself that she ought to marry Larry Twentyman and adapt +herself to the surroundings of her life. Since she had seen Reginald +Morton frequently, she had been less prone to tell herself so than +before;—and yet to this very man she had declared her fitness for +Larry's companionship!</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-16" id="c1-16"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> +<h3>MR. GOTOBED'S PHILANTHROPY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mr. Gotobed, when the persecutions of Goarly were described to him at +the scene of the dead fox, had expressed considerable admiration for +the man's character as portrayed by what he then heard. The man,—a +poor man too and despised in the land,—was standing up for his +rights, all alone, against the aristocracy and plutocracy of the +county. He had killed the demon whom the aristocracy and plutocracy +worshipped, and had appeared there in arms ready to defend his own +territory,—one against so many, and so poor a man against men so +rich! The Senator had at once said that he would call upon Mr. +Goarly, and the Senator was a man who always carried out his +purposes. Afterwards, from John Morton, and from others who knew the +country better than Morton, he learned further particulars. On the +Monday and Tuesday he fathomed,—or nearly fathomed,—that matter of +the 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> an acre. He learned at any rate that the owner of the +wood admitted a damage done by him to the corn and had then, himself, +assessed the damage without consultation with the injured party; and +he was informed also that Goarly was going to law with the lord for a +fuller compensation. He liked Goarly for killing the fox, and he +liked him more for going to law with Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>He declared openly at Bragton his sympathy with the man and his +intention of expressing it. Morton was annoyed and endeavoured to +persuade him to leave the man alone; but in vain. No doubt had he +expressed himself decisively and told his friend that he should be +annoyed by a guest from his house taking part in such a matter, the +Senator would have abstained and would merely have made one more note +as to English peculiarities and English ideas of justice; but Morton +could not bring himself to do this. "The feeling of the country will +be altogether against you," he had said, hoping to deter the Senator. +The Senator had replied that though the feeling of that little bit of +the country might be against him he did not believe that such would +be the case with the feeling of England generally. The ladies had all +become a little afraid of Mr. Gotobed and hardly dared to express an +opinion. Lady Augustus did say that she supposed that Goarly was a +low vulgar fellow, which of course strengthened the Senator in his +purpose.</p> + +<p>The Senator on Wednesday would not wait for lunch but started a +little before one with a crust of bread in his pocket to find his way +to Goarly's house. There was no difficulty in this as he could see +the wood as soon as he had got upon the high road. He found +Twentyman's gate and followed directly the route which the hunting +party had taken, till he came to the spot on which the crowd had been +assembled. Close to this there was a hand-gate leading into +Dillsborough wood, and standing in the gateway was a man. The Senator +thought that this might not improbably be Goarly himself, and asked +the question, "Might your name be Mr. Goarly, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Me Goarly!" said the man in infinite disgust. "I ain't nothing of +the kind,—and you knows it."</p> + +<p>That the man should have been annoyed at being taken for +Goarly,—that man being Bean the gamekeeper who would willingly have +hung Goarly if he could, and would have thought it quite proper that +a law should be now passed for hanging him at once,—was natural +enough. But why he should have told the Senator that the Senator knew +he was not Goarly it might be difficult to explain. He probably at +once regarded the Senator as an enemy, as a man on the other side, +and therefore as a cunning knave who would be sure to come creeping +about on false pretences. Bean, who had already heard of Bearside and +had heard of Scrobby in connection with this matter, looked at the +Senator very hard. He knew Bearside. The man certainly was not the +attorney, and from what he had heard of Scrobby he didn't think he +was Scrobby. The man was not like what in his imagination Scrobby +would be. He did not know what to make of Mr. Gotobed,—who was a +person of an imposing appearance, tall and thin, with a long nose and +look of great acuteness, dressed in black from head to foot, but yet +not looking quite like an English gentleman. He was a man to whom +Bean in an ordinary way would have been civil,—civil in a cold +guarded way; but how was he to be civil to anybody who addressed him +as Goarly?</p> + +<p>"I did not know it," said the Senator. "As Goarly lives near here I +thought you might be Goarly. When I saw Goarly he had a gun, and you +have a gun. Can you tell me where Goarly lives?"</p> + +<p>"Tother side of the wood," said Bean pointing back with his thumb. +"He never had a gun like this in his hand in all his born days."</p> + +<p>"I dare say not, my friend. I can go through the wood I guess;" for +Bean had pointed exactly over the gateway.</p> + +<p>"I guess you can't then," said Bean. The man who, like other +gamekeepers, lived much in the company of gentlemen, was ordinarily a +civil courteous fellow, who knew how to smile and make things +pleasant. But at this moment he was very much put out. His covert had +been found full of red herrings and strychnine, and his fox had been +poisoned. He had lost his guinea on the day of the hunt,—the guinea +which would have been his perquisite had they found a live fox in his +wood. And all this was being done by such a fellow as Goarly! And now +this abandoned wretch was bringing an action against his Lordship and +was leagued with such men as Scrobby and Bearside! It was a dreadful +state of things! How was it likely that he should give a passage +through the wood to anybody coming after Goarly? "You're on Mr. +Twentyman's land now, as I dare say you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about it."</p> + +<p>"Well;—that wood is Lord Rufford's wood."</p> + +<p>"I did know as much as that, certainly."</p> + +<p>"And you can't go into it."</p> + +<p>"How shall I find Mr. Goarly's house?"</p> + +<p>"If you'll get over that there ditch you'll be on Mister Goarly's +land and that's all about it." Bean as he said this put a strongly +ironical emphasis on the term of respect and then turned back into +the wood.</p> + +<p>The Senator made his way down the fence to the bank on which Goarly +had stood with his gun, then over into Goarly's field, and so round +the back of the wood till he saw a small red brick house standing +perhaps four hundred yards from the covert, just on the elbow of a +lane. It was a miserable-looking place with a pigsty and a dung-heap +and a small horse-pond or duck-puddle all close around it. The stack +of chimneys seemed to threaten to fall, and as he approached from +behind he could see that the two windows opening that way were +stuffed with rags. There was a little cabbage garden which now seemed +to be all stalks, and a single goose waddling about the duck-puddle. +The Senator went to the door, and having knocked, was investigated by +a woman from behind it. Yes, this was Goarly's house. What did the +gentleman want? Goarly was at work in the field. Then she came out, +the Senator having signified his friendly intentions, and summoned +Goarly to the spot.</p> + +<p>"I hope I see you well, sir," said the Senator putting out his hand +as Goarly came up dragging a dung-fork behind him.</p> + +<p>Goarly rubbed his hand on his breeches before he gave it to be shaken +and declared himself to be "pretty tidy, considering."</p> + +<p>"I was present the other day, Mr. Goarly, when that dead fox was +exposed to view."</p> + +<p>"Was you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I was given to understand that you had destroyed the brute."</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe a word on it then," said the woman interposing. +"He didn't do nothing of the kind. Who ever seed him a' buying of red +herrings and p'ison?"</p> + +<p>"Hold your jaw," said Goarly,—familiarly. "Let 'em prove it. I don't +know who you are, sir; but let 'em prove it."</p> + +<p>"My name, Mr. Goarly, is Elias Gotobed. I am an American citizen, and +Senator for the State of Mickewa." Mr. and Mrs. Goarly shook their +heads at every separate item of information tendered to them. "I am +on a visit to this country and am at present staying at the house of +my friend, Mr. John Morton."</p> + +<p>"He's the gentl'man from Bragton, Dan."</p> + +<p>"Hold your jaw, can't you?" said the husband. Then he touched his hat +to the Senator intending to signify that the Senator might, if he +pleased, continue his narrative.</p> + +<p>"If you did kill that fox, Mr. Goarly, I think you were quite right +to kill him." Then Goarly winked at him. "I cannot imagine that even +the laws of England could justify a man in perpetuating a breed of +wild animals that are destructive to his neighbours' property."</p> + +<p>"I could shoot 'un; not a doubt about that, Mister. I could shoot +'un;—and I wull."</p> + +<p>"Have a care, Dan," whispered Mrs. Goarly.</p> + +<p>"Hold your jaw,—will ye? I could shoot 'un, Mister. I don't rightly +know about p'ison."</p> + +<p>"That fox we saw was poisoned I suppose," said the Senator, +carelessly.</p> + +<p>"Have a care, Dan;—have a care!" whispered the wife.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to assure both of you," said the Senator, "that you need +fear nothing from me. I have come quite as a friend."</p> + +<p>"Thank 'ee, sir," said Goarly again touching his hat.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said the Senator, "that in this matter a great many +men are leagued together against you."</p> + +<p>"You may say that, sir. I didn't just catch your name, sir."</p> + +<p>"My name is Gotobed;—Gotobed; Elias Gotobed, Senator from the State +of Mickewa to the United States Congress." Mrs. Goarly who understood +nothing of all these titles, and who had all along doubted, dropped a +suspicious curtsey. Goarly, who understood a little now, took his hat +altogether off. He was very much puzzled but inclined to think that +if he managed matters rightly, profit might be got out of this very +strange meeting. "In my country, Mr. Goarly, all men are free and +equal."</p> + +<p>"That's a fine thing, sir."</p> + +<p>"It is a fine thing, my friend, if properly understood and properly +used. Coming from such a country I was shocked to see so many rich +men banded together against one who I suppose is not rich."</p> + +<p>"Very far from it," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"It's my own land, you know," said Goarly who was proud of his +position as a landowner. "No one can't touch me on it, as long as the +rates is paid. I'm as good a man here,"—and he stamped his foot on +the ground,—"as his Lordship is in that there wood."</p> + +<p>This was the first word spoken by the Goarlys that had pleased the +Senator, and this set him off again. "Just so;—and I admire a man +that will stand up for his own rights. I am told that you have found +his Lordship's pheasants destructive to your corn."</p> + +<p>"Didn't leave him hardly a grain last August," said Mrs. Goarly.</p> + +<p>"Will you hold your jaw, woman, or will you not?" said the man, +turning round fiercely at her. "I'm going to have the law of his +Lordship, sir. What's seven and six an acre? There's that quantity of +pheasants in that wood as'd eat up any mortal thing as ever was +growed. Seven and six!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you propose arbitration?"</p> + +<p>"I never didn't propose nothin'. I've axed two pound, and my lawyer +says as how I'll get it. What I sold come off that other bit of +ground down there. Wonderful crop! And this 'd've been the same. His +Lordship ain't nothin' to me, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"You don't approve of hunting, Mr. Goarly?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I approves if they'd pay a poor man for what harm they does him. +Look at that there goose." Mr. Gotobed did look at the goose. +"There's nine and twenty they've tuk from me, and only left un that." +Now Mrs. Goarly's goose was well known in those parts. It was +declared that she was more than a match for any fox in the county, +but that Mrs. Goarly for the last two years had never owned any goose +but this one.</p> + +<p>"The foxes have eaten them all?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Every mortal one."</p> + +<p>"And the gentlemen of the hunt have paid you nothing."</p> + +<p>"I had four half-crowns once," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"If you don't send the heads you don't get it," said the man, "and +then they'll keep you waiting months and months, just for their +pleasures. Who's a going to put up with that? I ain't."</p> + +<p>"And now you're going to law?"</p> + +<p>"I am,—like a man. His Lordship ain't nothin' to me. I ain't afeard +of his Lordship."</p> + +<p>"Will it cost you much?"</p> + +<p>"That's just what it will do, sir," said the woman.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, hold your jaw?"</p> + +<p>"The gentl'man was going to offer to help us a little, Dan."</p> + +<p>"I was going to say that I am interested in the case, and that you +have all my good wishes. I do not like to offer pecuniary help."</p> + +<p>"You're very good, sir; very good. This bit of land is mine; not a +doubt of it;—but we're poor, sir."</p> + +<p>"Indeed we is," said the woman. "What with taxes and rates, and them +foxes as won't let me rear a head of poultry and them brutes of birds +as eats up the corn, I often tells him he'd better sell the bit o' +land and just set up for a public."</p> + +<p>"It belonged to my feyther and grandfeyther," said Goarly.</p> + +<p>Then the Senator's heart was softened again and he explained at great +length that he would watch the case and if he saw his way clearly, +befriend it with substantial aid. He asked about the attorney and +took down Bearside's address. After that he shook hands with both of +them, and then made his way back to Bragton through Mr. Twentyman's +farm.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Goarly were left in a state of great perturbation of +mind. They could not in the least make out among themselves who the +gentleman was, or whether he had come for good or evil. That he +called himself Gotobed Goarly did remember, and also that he had said +that he was an American. All that which had referred to senatorial +honours and the State of Mickewa had been lost upon Goarly. The +question of course arose whether he was not a spy sent out by Lord +Rufford's man of business, and Mrs. Goarly was clearly of opinion +that such had been the nature of his employment. Had he really been a +friend, she suggested, he would have left a sovereign behind him. "He +didn't get no information from me," said Goarly.</p> + +<p>"Only about Mr. Bearside."</p> + +<p>"What's the odds of that? They all knows that. Bearside! Why should I +be ashamed of Bearside? I'll do a deal better with Bearside than I +would with that old woman, Masters."</p> + +<p>"But he took it down in writing, Dan."</p> + +<p>"What the d——'s the odds in that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like it when they puts it down in writing."</p> + +<p>"Hold your jaw," said Goarly as he slowly shouldered the dung-fork to +take it back to his work. But as they again discussed the matter that +night the opinion gained ground upon them that the Senator had been +an emissary from the enemy.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-17" id="c1-17"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> +<h3>LORD RUFFORD'S INVITATION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On that same Wednesday afternoon when Morton returned with the ladies +in the carriage he found that a mounted servant had arrived from +Rufford Hall with a letter and had been instructed to wait for an +answer. The man was now refreshing himself in the servants' hall. +Morton, when he had read the letter, found that it required some +consideration before he could answer it. It was to the following +purport. Lord Rufford had a party of ladies and gentlemen at Rufford +Hall, as his sister, Lady Penwether, was staying with him. Would Mr. +Morton and his guests come over to Rufford Hall on Monday and stay +till Wednesday? On Tuesday there was to be a dance for the people of +the neighbourhood. Then he specified, as the guests invited, Lady +Augustus and her daughter and Mr. Gotobed,—omitting the honourable +Mrs. Morton of whose sojourn in the county he might have been +ignorant. His Lordship went on to say that he trusted the abruptness +of the invitation might be excused on account of the nearness of +their neighbourhood and the old friendship which had existed between +their families. He had had, he said, the pleasure of being acquainted +with Lady Augustus and her daughter in London and would be proud to +see Mr. Gotobed at his house during his sojourn in the county. Then +he added in a postscript that the hounds met at Rufford Hall on +Tuesday and that he had a horse that carried a lady well if Miss +Trefoil would like to ride him. He could also put up a horse for Mr. +Morton.</p> + +<p>This was all very civil, but there was something in it that was +almost too civil. There came upon Morton a suspicion, which he did +not even define to himself, that the invitation was due to Arabella's +charms. There were many reasons why he did not wish to accept it. His +grandmother was left out and he feared that she would be angry. He +did not feel inclined to take the American Senator to the lord's +house, knowing as he did that the American Senator was interfering in +a ridiculous manner on behalf of Goarly. And he did not particularly +wish to be present at Rufford Hall with the Trefoil ladies. Hitherto +he had received very little satisfaction from their visit to +Bragton,—so little that he had been more than once on the verge of +asking Arabella whether she wished to be relieved from her +engagement. She had never quite given him the opportunity. She had +always been gracious to him in a cold, disagreeable, glassy +manner,—in a manner that irked his spirit but still did not justify +him in expressing anger. Lady Augustus was almost uncivil to him, and +from time to time said little things which were hard to bear; but he +was not going to marry Lady Augustus, and could revenge himself +against her by resolving in his own breast that he would have as +little as possible to do with her after his marriage. That was the +condition of his mind towards them, and in that condition he did not +want to take them to Lord Rufford's house. Their visit to him would +be over on Monday, and it would he thought be better for him that +they should then go on their way to the Gores as they had proposed.</p> + +<p>But he did not like to answer the letter by a refusal without saying +a word to his guests on the subject. He would not object to ignore +the Senator, but he was afraid that if nothing were to be said to +Arabella she would hear of it hereafter and would complain of such +treatment. He therefore directed that the man might be kept waiting +while he consulted the lady of his choice. It was with difficulty +that he found himself alone with her,—and then only by sending her +maid in quest of her. He did get her at last into his own +sitting-room and then, having placed her in a chair near the fire, +gave her Lord Rufford's letter to read. "What can it be," said she +looking up into his face with her great inexpressive eyes, "that has +required all this solemnity?" She still looked up at him and did not +even open the letter.</p> + +<p>"I did not like to answer that without showing it to you. I don't +suppose you would care to go."</p> + +<p>"Go where?"</p> + +<p>"It is from Lord Rufford,—for Monday."</p> + +<p>"From Lord Rufford!"</p> + +<p>"It would break up all your plans and your mother's, and would +probably be a great bore."</p> + +<p>Then she did read the letter, very carefully and very slowly, +weighing every word of it as she read it. Did it mean more than it +said? But though she read it slowly and carefully and was long before +she made him any answer, she had very quickly resolved that the +invitation should be accepted. It would suit her very well to know +Lady Penwether. It might possibly suit her still better to become +intimate with Lord Rufford. She was delighted at the idea of riding +Lord Rufford's horse. As her eyes dwelt on the paper she, too, began +to think that the invitation had been chiefly given on her account. +At any rate she would go. She had understood perfectly well from the +first tone of her lover's voice that he did not wish to subject her +to the allurements of Rufford Hall. She was clever enough, and could +read it all. But she did not mean to throw away a chance for the sake +of pleasing him. She must not at once displease him by declaring her +purpose strongly, and therefore, as she slowly continued her reading, +she resolved that she would throw the burden upon her mother. "Had I +not better show this to mamma?" she said.</p> + +<p>"You can if you please. You are going to the Gores on Monday."</p> + +<p>"We could not go earlier; but we might put it off for a couple of +days if we pleased. Would it bore you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mind about myself. I'm not a very great man for dances."</p> + +<p>"You'd sooner write a report,—wouldn't you,—about the products of +the country?"</p> + +<p>"A great deal sooner," said the Paragon.</p> + +<p>"But you see we haven't all of us got products to write about. I +don't care very much about it myself;—but if you don't mind I'll ask +mamma." Of course he was obliged to consent, and merely informed her +as she went off with the letter that a servant was waiting for an +answer.</p> + +<p>"To go to Lord Rufford's!" said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"From Monday till Wednesday, mamma. Of course we must go."</p> + +<p>"I promised poor Mrs. Gore."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, mamma! The Gores can do very well without us. That was +only to be a week and we can still stay out our time. Of course this +has only been sent because we are here."</p> + +<p>"I should say so. I don't suppose Lord Rufford would care to know Mr. +Morton. Lady Penwether goes everywhere; doesn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Everywhere. It would suit me to a 't' to get on to Lady Penwether's +books. But, mamma, of course it's not that. If Lord Rufford should +say a word it is so much easier to manage down in the country than up +in London. He has £40,000 a year, if he has a penny."</p> + +<p>"How many girls have tried the same thing with him! But I don't mind. +I've always said that John Morton and Bragton would not do."</p> + +<p>"No, mamma; you haven't. You were the first to say they would do."</p> + +<p>"I only said that if there were nothing else—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, how can you say such things! Nothing else,—as if he were +the last man! You said distinctly that Bragton was £7,000 a year, and +that it would do very well. You may change your mind if you like; but +it's no good trying to back out of your own doings."</p> + +<p>"Then I have changed my mind."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—without thinking what I have to go through. I'm not going to +throw myself at Lord Rufford's head so as to lose my chance +here;—but we'll go and see how the land lies. Of course you'll go, +mamma."</p> + +<p>"If you think it is for your advantage, my dear."</p> + +<p>"My advantage! It's part of the work to be done and we may as well do +it. At any rate I'll tell him to accept. We shall have this odious +American with us, but that can't be helped."</p> + +<p>"And the old woman?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford doesn't say anything about her. I don't suppose he's +such a muff but what he can leave his grandmother behind for a couple +of days." Then she went back to Morton and told him that her mother +was particularly anxious to make the acquaintance of Lady Penwether +and that she had decided upon going to Rufford Hall. "It will be a +very nice opportunity," said she, "for you to become acquainted with +Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>Then he was almost angry. "I can make plenty of such opportunities +for myself, when I want them," he said. "Of course if you and Lady +Augustus like it, we will go. But let it stand on its right bottom."</p> + +<p>"It may stand on any bottom you please."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to ride the man's horse?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do. I never refuse a good offer. Why shouldn't I ride +the man's horse? Did you never hear before of a young lady borrowing +a gentleman's horse?"</p> + +<p>"No lady belonging to me will ever do so,—unless the gentleman be a +very close friend indeed."</p> + +<p>"The lady in this case does not belong to you, Mr. Morton, and +therefore, if you have no other objection, she will ride Lord +Rufford's horse. Perhaps you will not think it too much trouble to +signify the lady's acceptance of the mount in your letter." Then she +swam out of the room knowing that she left him in anger. After that +he had to find Mr. Gotobed. The going was now decided on as far as he +was concerned, and it would make very little difference whether the +American went or not,—except that his letter would have been easier +to him in accepting the invitation for three persons than for four. +But the Senator was of course willing. It was the Senator's object to +see England, and Lord Rufford's house would be an additional bit of +England. The Senator would be delighted to have an opportunity of +saying what he thought about Goarly at Lord Rufford's table. After +that, before this weary letter could be written, he was compelled to +see his grandmother and explain to her that she had been omitted.</p> + +<p>"Of course, ma'am, they did not know that you were at Bragton, as you +were not in the carriage at the 'meet.'"</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, John. Did Lord Rufford suppose that you were +entertaining ladies here without some one to be mistress of the +house? Of course he knew that I was here. I shouldn't have gone;—you +may be sure of that. I'm not in the habit of going to the houses of +people I don't know. Indeed I think it's an impertinence in them to +ask in that way. I'm surprised that you would go on such an +invitation."</p> + +<p>"The Trefoils knew them."</p> + +<p>"If Lady Penwether knew them why could not Lady Penwether ask them +independently of us? I don't believe they ever spoke to Lady +Penwether in their lives. Lord Rufford and Miss Trefoil may very +likely be London acquaintances. He may admire her and therefore +choose to have her at his ball. I know nothing about that. As far as +I am concerned he's quite welcome to keep her."</p> + +<p>All this was not very pleasant to John Morton. He knew already that +his grandmother and Lady Augustus hated each other, and said spiteful +things not only behind each other's backs, but openly to each other's +faces. But now he had been told by the girl who was engaged to be his +wife that she did not belong to him; and by his grandmother,—who +stood to him in the place of his mother,—that she wished that this +girl belonged to some one else! He was not quite sure that he did not +wish it himself. But, even were it to be so, and should there be +reason for him to be gratified at the escape, still he did not relish +the idea of taking the girl himself to the other man's house. He +wrote the letter, however, and dispatched it. But even the writing of +it was difficult and disagreeable. When various details of +hospitality have been offered by a comparative stranger a man hardly +likes to accept them all. But in this case he had to do it. He would +be delighted, he said, to stay at Rufford Hall from the Monday to the +Wednesday;—Lady Augustus and Miss Trefoil would also be +delighted;—and so also would Mr. Gotobed be delighted. And Miss +Trefoil would be further delighted to accept Lord Rufford's offer of +a horse for the Tuesday. As for himself, if he rode at all, a horse +would come for him to the meet. Then he wrote another note to Mr. +Harry Stubbings, bespeaking a mount for the occasion.</p> + +<p>On that evening the party at Bragton was not a very pleasant one. "No +doubt you are intimate with Lady Penwether, Lady Augustus," said Mrs. +Morton. Now Lady Penwether was a very fashionable woman whom to know +was considered an honour.</p> + +<p>"What makes you ask, ma'am?" said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Only as you were taking your daughter to her brother's house, and as +he is a bachelor."</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs. Morton, really you may leave me to take care of myself +and of my daughter too. You have lived so much out of the world for +the last thirty years that it is quite amusing."</p> + +<p>"There are some persons' worlds that it is a great deal better for a +lady to be out of," said Mrs. Morton. Then Lady Augustus put up her +hands, and turned round, and affected to laugh, of all which things +Mr. Gotobed, who was studying English society, made notes in his own +mind.</p> + +<p>"What sort of position does that man Goarly occupy here?" the Senator +asked immediately after dinner.</p> + +<p>"No position at all," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"Every man created holds some position as I take it. The land is his +own."</p> + +<p>"He has I believe about fifty acres."</p> + +<p>"And yet he seems to be in the lowest depth of poverty and +ignorance."</p> + +<p>"Of course he mismanages his property and probably drinks."</p> + +<p>"I dare say, Mr. Morton. He is proud of his rights, and talked of his +father and his grandfather, and yet I doubt whether you would find a +man so squalid and so ignorant in all the States. I suppose he is +injured by having a lord so near him."</p> + +<p>"Quite the contrary if he would be amenable."</p> + +<p>"You mean if he would be a creature of the lord's. And why was that +other man so uncivil to me;—the man who was the lord's gamekeeper?"</p> + +<p>"Because you went there as a friend of Goarly."</p> + +<p>"And that's his idea of English fair play?" asked the Senator with a +jeer.</p> + +<p>"The truth is, Mr. Gotobed," said Morton endeavouring to explain it +all, "you see a part only and not the whole. That man Goarly is a +rascal."</p> + +<p>"So everybody says."</p> + +<p>"And why can't you believe everybody?"</p> + +<p>"So everybody says on the lord's side. But before I'm done I'll find +out what people say on the other side. I can see that he is ignorant +and squalid; but that very probably is the lord's fault. It may be +that he is a rascal and that the lord is to blame for that too. But +if the lord's pheasants have eaten up Goarly's corn, the lord ought +to pay for the corn whether Goarly be a rascal or not." Then John +Morton made up his mind that he would never ask another American +Senator to his house.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-18" id="c1-18"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> +<h3>THE ATTORNEY'S FAMILY IS DISTURBED.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On that Wednesday evening Mary Masters said nothing to any of her +family as to the invitation from Lady Ushant. She very much wished to +accept it. Latterly, for the last month or two, her distaste to the +kind of life for which her stepmother was preparing her, had +increased upon her greatly. There had been days in which she had +doubted whether it might not be expedient that she should accept Mr. +Twentyman's offer. She believed no ill of him. She thought him to be +a fine manly young fellow with a good heart and high principles. She +never asked herself whether he were or were not a gentleman. She had +never even inquired of herself whether she herself were or were not +especially a lady. But with all her efforts to like the man,—because +she thought that by doing so she would relieve and please her +father,—yet he was distasteful to her; and now, since that walk home +with him from Bragton Bridge, he was more distasteful than ever. She +did not tell herself that a short visit, say for a month, to +Cheltenham, would prevent his further attentions, but she felt that +there would be a temporary escape. I do not think that she dwelt much +on the suggestion that Reginald Morton should be her companion on the +journey,—but the idea of such companionship, even for a short time, +was pleasant to her. If he did this surely then he would forgive her +for having left him at the bridge. She had much to think of before +she could resolve how she should tell her tidings. Should she show +the letter first to her stepmother or to her father? In the ordinary +course of things in that house the former course would be expected. +It was Mrs. Masters who managed everything affecting the family. It +was she who gave permission or denied permission for every +indulgence. She was generally fair to the three girls, taking special +pride to herself for doing her duty by her stepdaughter;—but on this +very account she was the more likely to be angry if Mary passed her +by on such an occasion as this and went to her father. But should her +stepmother have once refused her permission, then the matter would +have been decided against her. It would be quite useless to appeal +from her stepmother to her father;—nor would such an appeal come +within the scope of her own principles. The Mortons, and especially +Lady Ushant, had been her father's friends in old days and she +thought that perhaps she might prevail in this case if she could +speak to her father first. She knew well what would be the great, or +rather the real objection. Her mother would not wish that she should +be removed so long from Larry Twentyman. There might be difficulties +about her clothes, but her father, she knew would be kind to her.</p> + +<p>At last she made up her mind that she would ask her father. He was +always at his office-desk for half an hour in the morning, before the +clerks had come, and on the following day, a minute or two after he +had taken his seat, she knocked at the door. He was busy reading a +letter from Lord Rufford's man of business, asking him certain +questions about Goarly and almost employing him to get up the case on +Lord Rufford's behalf. There was a certain triumph to him in this. It +was not by his means that tidings had reached Lord Rufford of his +refusal to undertake Goarly's case. But Runciman, who was often +allowed by his lordship to say a few words to him in the +hunting-field, had mentioned the circumstance. "A man like Mr. +Masters is better without such a blackguard as that," the Lord had +said. Then Runciman had replied, "No doubt, my Lord; no doubt. But +Dillsborough is a poor place, and business is business, my Lord." +Then Lord Rufford had remembered it, and the letter which the +attorney was somewhat triumphantly reading had been the consequence.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Mary? What can I do for you, my love?"</p> + +<p>"Papa, I want you to read this." Then Mr. Masters read the letter. "I +should so like to go."</p> + +<p>"Should you, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! Lady Ushant has been so kind to me,—all my life! And I do +so love her!"</p> + +<p>"What does mamma say?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't asked mamma."</p> + +<p>"Is there any reason why you shouldn't go?"</p> + +<p>Of that one reason,—as to Larry Twentyman,—of course she would say +nothing. She must leave him to discuss that with her mother. "I +should want some clothes, papa; a dress, and some boots, and a new +hat, and there would be money for the journey and a few other +things." The attorney winced, but at the same time remembered that +something was due to his eldest child in the way of garments and +relaxation. "I never like to be an expense, papa."</p> + +<p>"You are very good about that, my dear. I don't see why you shouldn't +go. It's very kind of Lady Ushant. I'll talk to mamma." Then Mary +went away to get the breakfast, fearing that before long there would +be black looks in the house.</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters at once went up to his wife,—having given himself a +minute or two to calculate that he would let Mary have twenty pounds +for the occasion,—and made his proposition. "I never heard of such +nonsense in my life," said Mrs. Masters.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense,—my dear! Why should it be nonsense?"</p> + +<p>"Cocking her up with Lady Ushant! What good will Lady Ushant do her? +She's not going to live with ladies of quality all her life."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't she live with ladies?"</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean, Gregory. The Mortons have dropped you, for any +use they were to you, long ago, and you may as well make up your mind +to drop them. You'll go on hankering after gentlefolks till you've +about ruined yourself."</p> + +<p>When he remembered that he had that very morning received a +commission from Lord Rufford he thought that this was a little too +bad. But he was not now in a humour to make known to her this piece +of good news. "I like to feel that she has got friends," he said, +going back to Mary's proposed visit.</p> + +<p>"Of course she has got friends, if she'll only take up with them as +she ought to do. Why does she go on shilly-shallying with that young +man, instead of closing upon it at once? If she did that she wouldn't +want such friends as Lady Ushant. Why did the girl come to you with +all this instead of asking me?"</p> + +<p>"There would be a little money wanted."</p> + +<p>"Money! Yes, I dare say. It's very easy to want money but very hard +to get it. If you send clients away out of the office with a flea in +their ear I don't see how she's to have all manner of luxuries. She +ought to have come to me."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that at all, my dear."</p> + +<p>"If I'm to look after her she shall be said by me;—that's all. I've +done for her just as I have for my own and I'm not going to have her +turn up her nose at me directly she wants anything for herself. I +know what's fit for Mary, and it ain't fit that she should go +trapesing away to Cheltenham, doing nothing in that old woman's +parlour, and losing her chances for life. Who is to suppose that +Larry Twentyman will go on dangling after her in this way, month +after month? The young man wants a wife, and of course he'll get +one."</p> + +<p>"You can't make her marry the man if she don't like him."</p> + +<p>"Like him! She ought to be made to like him. A young man well off as +he is, and she without a shilling! All that comes from Ushanting." It +never occurred to Mrs. Masters that perhaps the very qualities that +had made poor Larry so vehemently in love with Mary had come from her +intercourse with Lady Ushant. "If I'm to have my way she won't go a +yard on the way to Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>"I've told her she may go," said Mr. Masters, whose mind was +wandering back to old days,—to his first wife, and to the time when +he used to be an occasional guest in the big parlour at Bragton. He +was always ready to acknowledge to himself that his present wife was +a good and helpful companion to him and a careful mother to his +children; but there were moments in which he would remember with soft +regret a different phase of his life. Just at present he was somewhat +angry, and resolving in his own mind that in this case he would have +his own way.</p> + +<p>"Then I shall tell her she mayn't," said Mrs. Masters, with a look of +dogged determination.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will do nothing of the kind, my dear. I've told her that +she shall have a few pounds to get what she wants, and I won't have +her disappointed." After that Mrs. Masters bounced out of the room, +and made herself very disagreeable indeed over the tea-things.</p> + +<p>The whole household was much disturbed that day. Mrs. Masters said +nothing to Mary about Lady Ushant all the morning, but said a great +deal about other things. Poor Mary was asked whether she was not +ashamed to treat a young man as she was treating Mr. Twentyman. Then +again it was demanded of her whether she thought it right that all +the house should be knocked about for her. At dinner Mrs. Masters +would hardly speak to her husband but addressed herself exclusively +to Dolly and Kate. Mr. Masters was not a man who could, usually, +stand this kind of thing very long and was accustomed to give up in +despair and then take himself off to the solace of his office-chair. +But on the present occasion he went through his meal like a Spartan, +and retired from the room without a sign of surrender. In the +afternoon about five o'clock Mary watched her opportunity and found +him again alone. It was incumbent on her to reply to Lady Ushant. +Would it not be better that she should write and say how sorry she +was that she could not come? "But I want you to go," said he.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa;—I cannot bear to cause trouble."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear; no; and I'm sure I don't like trouble myself. But in +this case I think you ought to go. What day has she named?" Then Mary +declared that she could not possibly go so soon as Lady Ushant had +suggested, but that she could be ready by the 18th of December. "Then +write and tell her so, my dear, and I will let your mother know that +it is fixed." But Mary still hesitated, desiring to know whether she +had not better speak to her mother first. "I think you had better +write your letter first,"—and then he absolutely made her write it +in the office and give it to him to be posted. After that he promised +to communicate to Reginald Morton what had been done.</p> + +<p>The household was very much disturbed the whole of that evening. Poor +Mary never remembered such a state of things, and when there had been +any difference of opinion, she had hitherto never been the cause of +it. Now it was all owing to her! And things were said so terrible +that she hardly knew how to bear them. Her father had promised her +the twenty pounds, and it was insinuated that all the comforts of the +family must be stopped because of this lavish extravagance. Her +father sat still and bore it, almost without a word. Both Dolly and +Kate were silent and wretched. Mrs. Masters every now and then +gurgled in her throat, and three or four times wiped her eyes. "I'm +better out of the way altogether," she said at last, jumping up and +walking towards the door as though she were going to leave the +room,—and the house, for ever.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Mary, rising from her seat, "I won't go. I'll write and +tell Lady Ushant that I can't do it."</p> + +<p>"You're not to mind me," said Mrs. Masters. "You're to do what your +papa tells you. Everything that I've been striving at is to be thrown +away. I'm to be nobody, and it's quite right that your papa should +tell you so."</p> + +<p>"Dear mamma, don't talk like that," said Mary, clinging hold of her +stepmother.</p> + +<p>"Your papa sits there and won't say a word," said Mrs. Masters, +stamping her foot.</p> + +<p>"What's the good of speaking when you go on like that before the +children?" said Mr. Masters, getting up from his chair. "I say that +it's a proper thing that the girl should go to see the old friend who +brought her up and has been always kind to her,—and she shall go." +Mrs. Masters seated herself on the nearest chair and leaning her head +against the wall, began to go into hysterics. "Your letter has +already gone, Mary; and I desire you will write no other without +letting me know." Then he left the room and the house,—and +absolutely went over to the Bush. This latter proceeding was, +however, hardly more than a bravado; for he merely took the +opportunity of asking Mrs. Runciman a question at the bar, and then +walked back to his own house, and shut himself up in the office.</p> + +<p>On the next morning he called on Reginald Morton and told him that +his daughter had accepted Lady Ushant's invitation, but could not go +till the 18th. "I shall be proud to take charge of her," said +Reginald. "And as for the change in the day it will suit me all the +better." So that was settled.</p> + +<p>On the next day, Friday, Mrs. Masters did not come down to breakfast, +but was waited upon upstairs by her own daughters. This with her was +a most unusual circumstance. The two maids were of opinion that such +a thing had never occurred before, and that therefore Masters must +have been out half the night at the public-house although they had +not known it. To Mary she would hardly speak a word. She appeared at +dinner and called her husband Mr. Masters when she helped him to +stew. All the afternoon she averred that her head was splitting, but +managed to say many very bitter things about gentlemen in general, +and expressed a vehement hope that that poor man Goarly would get at +least a hundred pounds. It must be owned, however, that at this time +she had heard nothing of Lord Rufford's commission to her husband. In +the evening Larry came in and was at once told the terrible news. +"Larry," said Kate, "Mary is going away for a month."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, Mary?" asked the lover eagerly.</p> + +<p>"To Lady Ushant's, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"For a month!"</p> + +<p>"She has asked me for a month," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"It's a regular fool's errand," said Mrs. Masters. "It's not done +with my consent, Mr. Twentyman. I don't think she ought to stir from +home till things are more settled."</p> + +<p>"They can be settled this moment as far as I am concerned," said +Larry standing up.</p> + +<p>"There now," said Mrs. Masters. At this time Mr. Masters was not in +the room. "If you can make it straight with Mr. Twentyman I won't say +a word against your going away for a month."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you shouldn't!" exclaimed Mary.</p> + +<p>"I hate such nonsense. Mr. Twentyman is behaving honest and genteel. +What more would you have? Give him an answer like a sensible girl."</p> + +<p>"I have given him an answer and I cannot say anything more," said +Mary as she left the room.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-19" id="c1-19"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> +<h3>"WHO VALUED THE GEESE?"<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Before the time had come for the visit to Rufford Hall Mr. Gotobed +had called upon Bearside the attorney and had learned as much as Mr. +Bearside chose to tell him of the facts of the case. This took place +on the Saturday morning and the interview was on the whole +satisfactory to the Senator. But then having a theory of his own in +his head, and being fond of ventilating his own theories, he +explained thoroughly to the man the story which he wished to hear +before the man was called upon to tell his story. Mr. Bearside of +course told it accordingly. Goarly was a very poor man, and very +ignorant; was perhaps not altogether so good a member of society as +he might have been; but no doubt he had a strong case against the +lord. The lord, so said Mr. Bearside, had fallen into a way of paying +a certain recompense in certain cases for crops damaged by game;—and +having in this way laid down a rule for himself did not choose to +have that rule disturbed. "Just feudalism!" said the indignant +Senator. "No better, nor yet no worse than that, sir," said the +attorney who did not in the least know what feudalism was. "The +strong hand backed by the strong rank and the strong purse determined +to have its own way!" continued the Senator. "A most determined man +is his lordship," said the attorney. Then the Senator expressed his +hope that Mr. Bearside would be able to see the poor man through it, +and Mr. Bearside explained to the Senator that the poor man was a +very poor man indeed, who had been so unfortunate with his land that +he was hardly able to provide bread for himself and his children. He +went so far as to insinuate that he was taking up this matter himself +solely on the score of charity, adding that as he could not of course +afford to be money out of pocket for expenses of witnesses, &c., he +did not quite see how he was to proceed. Then the Senator made +certain promises. He was, he said, going back to London in the course +of next week, but he did not mind making himself responsible to the +extent of fifty dollars if the thing were carried on, bonâ fide, to a +conclusion. Mr. Bearside declared that it would of course be bonâ +fide, and asked the Senator for his address. Would Mr. Gotobed object +to putting his name to a little docket certifying to the amount +promised? Mr. Gotobed gave an address, but thought that in such a +matter as that his word might be trusted. If it were not trusted then +the offer might fall to the ground. Mr. Bearside was profuse in his +apologies and declared that the gentleman's word was as good as his +bond.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gotobed made no secret of his doings. Perhaps he had a feeling +that he could not justify himself in so strange a proceeding without +absolute candour. He saw Mr. Mainwaring in the street as he left +Bearside's office and told him all about it. "I just want, sir, to +see what'll come of it."</p> + +<p>"You'll lose your fifty dollars, Mr. Gotobed, and only cause a little +vexation to a high-spirited young nobleman."</p> + +<p>"Very likely, sir. But neither the loss of my dollars, nor Lord +Rufford's slight vexation will in the least disturb my rest. I'm not +a rich man, sir, but I should like to watch the way in which such a +question will be tried and brought to a conclusion in this +aristocratic country. I don't quite know what your laws may be, Mr. +Mainwaring."</p> + +<p>"Just the same as your own, Mr. Gotobed, I take it."</p> + +<p>"We have no game laws, sir. As I was saying I don't understand your +laws, but justice is the same everywhere. If this great lord's game +has eaten up the poor man's wheat the great lord ought to pay for +it."</p> + +<p>"The owners of game pay for the damage they do three times over," +said the parson, who was very strongly on that side of the question. +"Do you think that such men as Goarly would be better off if the +gentry were never to come into the country at all?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, Mr. Mainwaring, I may think that there would be no Goarlys +if there were no Ruffords. That, however, is a great question which +cannot be argued on this case. All we can hope here is that one poor +man may have an act of justice done him though in seeking for it he +has to struggle against so wealthy a magnate as Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"What I hope is that he may be found out," replied Mr. Mainwaring +with equal enthusiasm, "and then he will be in Rufford gaol before +long. That's the justice I look for. Who do you think put down the +poison in Dillsborough wood?"</p> + +<p>"How was it that the poor woman lost all her geese?" asked the +Senator.</p> + +<p>"She was paid for a great many more than she lost, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't touch upon the injustice of the proceeding. Who +assessed the loss, sir? Who valued the geese? Am I to keep a pet +tiger in my garden, and give you a couple of dollars when he destroys +your pet dog, and think myself justified because dogs as a rule are +not worth more than two dollars each? She has a right to her own +geese on her own ground."</p> + +<p>"And Lord Rufford, sir, as I take it," said Runciman, who had been +allowed to come up and hear the end of the conversation, "has a right +to his own foxes in his own coverts."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—if he could keep them there, my friend. But as it is the +nature of foxes to wander away and to be thieves, he has no such +right."</p> + +<p>"Of course, sir, begging your pardon," said Runciman, "I was speaking +of England." Runciman had heard of the Senator Gotobed, as indeed had +all Dillsborough by this time.</p> + +<p>"And I am speaking of justice all the world over," said the Senator +slapping his hand upon his thigh. "But I only want to see. It may be +that England is a country in which a poor man should not attempt to +hold a few acres of land."</p> + +<p>On that night the Dillsborough club met as usual and, as a matter of +course, Goarly and the American Senator were the subjects chiefly +discussed. Everybody in the room knew,—or thought that he +knew,—that Goarly was a cheating fraudulent knave, and that Lord +Rufford was, at any rate, in this case acting properly. They all +understood the old goose, and were aware, nearly to a bushel, of the +amount of wheat which the man had sold off those two fields. Runciman +knew that the interest on the mortgage had been paid, and could only +have been paid out of the produce; and Larry Twentyman knew that if +Goarly took his 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> an acre he would be better off than if +the wood had not been there. But yet among them all they didn't quite +see how they were to confute the Senator's logic. They could not +answer it satisfactorily, even among themselves; but they felt that +if Goarly could be detected in some offence, that would confute the +Senator. Among themselves it was sufficient to repeat the well-known +fact that Goarly was a rascal; but with reference to this +aggravating, interfering, and most obnoxious American it would be +necessary to prove it.</p> + +<p>"His Lordship has put it into Masters's hands, I'm told," said the +doctor. At this time neither the attorney nor Larry Twentyman was in +the room.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't have done better," said Runciman, speaking from behind a +long clay pipe.</p> + +<p>"All the same he was nibbling at Goarly," said Ned Botsey.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that he was nibbling at Goarly at all, Mr. Botsey," +said the landlord. "Goarly came to him, and Goarly was refused. What +more would you have?"</p> + +<p>"It's all one to me," said Botsey; "only I do think that in a +sporting county like this the place ought to be made too hot to hold +a blackguard like that. If he comes out at me with his gun I'll ride +over him. And I wouldn't mind riding over that American too."</p> + +<p>"That's just what would suit Goarly's book," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Exactly what Goarly would like," said Harry Stubbings.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Masters and Larry entered the room. On that evening two +things had occurred to the attorney. Nickem had returned, and had +asked for and received an additional week's leave of absence. He had +declined to explain accurately what he was doing but gave the +attorney to understand that he thought that he was on the way to the +bottom of the whole thing. Then, after Nickem had left him, Mr. +Masters had a letter of instructions from Lord Rufford's steward. +When he received it, and found that his paid services had been +absolutely employed on behalf of his Lordship, he almost regretted +the encouragement he had given to Nickem. In the first place he might +want Nickem. And then he felt that in his present position he ought +not to be a party to anything underhand. But Nickem was gone, and he +was obliged to console himself by thinking that Nickem was at any +rate employing his intellect on the right side. When he left his +house with Larry Twentyman he had told his wife nothing about Lord +Rufford. Up to this time he and his wife had not as yet reconciled +their difference, and poor Mary was still living in misery. Larry, +though he had called for the attorney, had not sat down in the +parlour, and had barely spoken to Mary. "For gracious sake, Mr. +Twentyman, don't let him stay in that place there half the night," +said Mrs. Masters. "It ain't fit for a father of a family."</p> + +<p>"Father never does stay half the night," said Kate, who took more +liberties in that house than any one else.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, miss. I don't know whether it wouldn't be better +for you, Mr. Twentyman, if you were not there so often yourself." +Poor Larry felt this to be hard. He was not even engaged as yet, and +as far as he could see was not on the way to be engaged. In such +condition surely his possible mother-in-law could have no right to +interfere with him. He condescended to make no reply, but crossed the +passage and carried the attorney off with him.</p> + +<p>"You've heard what that American gentleman has been about, Mr. +Masters?" asked the landlord.</p> + +<p>"I'm told he's been with Bearside."</p> + +<p>"And has offered to pay his bill for him if he'll carry on the +business for Goarly. Whoever heard the like of that?"</p> + +<p>"What sort of a man is he?" asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>"A great man in his own country everybody says," answered Runciman. +"I wish he'd stayed there. He comes over here and thinks he +understands everything just as though he had lived here all his life. +Did you say gin cold, Larry;—and rum for you, Mr. Masters?" Then the +landlord gave the orders to the girl who had answered the bell.</p> + +<p>"But they say he's actually going to Lord Rufford's," said young +Botsey who would have given one of his fingers to be asked to the +lord's house.</p> + +<p>"They are all going from Bragton," said Runciman.</p> + +<p>"The young squire is going to ride one of my horses," said Harry +Stubbings.</p> + +<p>"That'll be an easy three pounds in your pockets, Harry," said the +doctor. In answer to which Harry remarked that he took all that as it +came, the heavies and lights together, and that there was not much +change to be got out of three sovereigns when some gentlemen had had +a horse out for the day,—particularly when a gentleman didn't pay +perhaps for twelve months.</p> + +<p>"The whole party is going," continued the landlord. "How he is to +have the cheek to go into his Lordship's house after what he is doing +is more than I can understand."</p> + +<p>"What business is it of his?" said Larry angrily. "That's what I want +to know. What'd he think if we went and interfered over there? I +shouldn't be surprised if he got a little rough usage before he's out +of the county. I'm told he came across Bean when he was ferretting +about the other day, and that Bean gave him quite as good as he +brought."</p> + +<p>"I say he's a spy," said Ribbs the butcher from his seat on the sofa. +"I hates a spy."</p> + +<p>Soon after that Mr. Masters left the room and Larry Twentyman +followed him. There was something almost ridiculous in the way the +young man would follow the attorney about on these Saturday +evenings,—as though he could make love to the girl by talking to the +father. But on this occasion he had something special to say. "So +Mary's going to Cheltenham, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is. You don't see any objection to that, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least, Mr. Masters. I wish she might go anywhere to enjoy +herself. And from all I've heard Lady Ushant is a very good sort of +lady."</p> + +<p>"A very good sort of lady. She won't do Mary any harm, Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose she will. But there's one thing I should like to +know. Why shouldn't she tell me before she goes that she'll have me?"</p> + +<p>"I wish she would with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Masters is all on my side."</p> + +<p>"Quite so."</p> + +<p>"And the girls have always been my friends."</p> + +<p>"I think we are all your friends, Twentyman. I'm sure Mary is. But +that isn't marrying;—is it?"</p> + +<p>"If you would speak to her, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"What would you have me say? I couldn't bid my girl to have one man +or another. I could only tell her what I think, and that she knows +already."</p> + +<p>"If you were to say that you wished it! She thinks so much about +you."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't tell her that I wished it in a manner that would drive +her into it. Of course it would be a very good match. But I have only +to think of her happiness and I must leave her to judge what will +make her happy."</p> + +<p>"I should like to have it fixed some way before she starts," said +Larry in an altered tone.</p> + +<p>"Of course you are your own master, Twentyman. And you have behaved +very well."</p> + +<p>"This is a kind of thing that a man can't stand," said the young +farmer sulkily. "Good night, Mr. Masters." Then he walked off home to +Chowton Farm meditating on his own condition and trying to make up +his mind to leave the scornful girl and become a free man. But he +couldn't do it. He couldn't even quite make up his mind that he would +try to do it. There was a bitterness within as he thought of +permanent fixed failure which he could not digest. There was a +craving in his heart which he did not himself quite understand, but +which made him think that the world would be unfit to be lived in if +he were to be altogether separated from Mary Masters. He couldn't +separate himself from her. It was all very well thinking of it, +talking of it, threatening it; but in truth he couldn't do it. There +might of course be an emergency in which he must do it. She might +declare that she loved some one else and she might marry that other +person. In that event he saw no other alternative but,—as he +expressed it to himself,—"to run a mucker." Whether the "mucker" +should be run against Mary, or against the fortunate lover, or +against himself, he did not at present resolve.</p> + +<p>But he did resolve as he reached his own hall-door that he would make +one more passionate appeal to Mary herself before she started for +Cheltenham, and that he would not make it out on a public path, or in +the Masters' family parlour before all the Masters' family;—but that +he would have her secluded, by herself, so that he might speak out +all that was in him, to the best of his ability.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-20" id="c1-20"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> +<h3>THERE ARE CONVENANCES.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Before the Monday came the party to Rufford Hall had become quite a +settled thing and had been very much discussed. On the Saturday the +Senator had been driven to the meet, a distance of about ten miles, +on purpose that he might see Lord Rufford and explain his views about +Goarly. Lord Rufford had bowed and stared, and laughed, and had then +told the Senator that he thought he would "find himself in the wrong +box." "That's quite possible, my Lord. I guess, it won't be the first +time I've been in the wrong box, my Lord. Sometimes I do get right. +But I thought I would not enter your lordship's house as a guest +without telling you what I was doing." Then Lord Rufford assured him +that this little affair about Goarly would make no difference in that +respect. Mr. Gotobed again scrutinised the hounds and Tony Tuppett, +laughed in his sleeve because a fox wasn't found in the first quarter +of an hour, and after that was driven back to Bragton.</p> + +<p>The Sunday was a day of preparation for the Trefoils. Of course they +didn't go to church. Arabella indeed was never up in time for church +and Lady Augustus only went when her going would be duly registered +among fashionable people. Mr. Gotobed laughed when he was invited and +asked whether anybody was ever known to go to church two Sundays +running at Bragton. "People have been known to refuse with less +acrimony," said Morton. "I always speak my mind, sir," replied the +Senator. Poor John Morton, therefore, went to his parish church +alone.</p> + +<p>There were many things to be considered by the Trefoils. There was +the question of dress. If any good was to be done by Arabella at +Rufford it must be done with great despatch. There would be the +dinner on Monday, the hunting on Tuesday, the ball, and then the +interesting moment of departure. No girl could make better use of her +time; but then, think of her difficulties! All that she did would +have to be done under the very eyes of the man to whom she was +engaged, and to whom she wished to remain engaged,—unless, as she +said to herself, she could "pull off the other event." A great deal +must depend on appearance. As she and her mother were out on a +lengthened cruise among long-suffering acquaintances, going to the De +Brownes after the Gores, and the Smijthes after the De Brownes, with +as many holes to run to afterwards as a four-year-old fox,—though +with the same probability of finding them stopped,—of course she had +her wardrobe with her. To see her night after night one would think +that it was supplied with all that wealth would give. But there were +deficiencies and there were make-shifts, very well known to herself +and well understood by her maid. She could generally supply herself +with gloves by bets, as to which she had never any scruple in taking +either what she did win or did not, and in dunning any who might +chance to be defaulters. On occasions too, when not afraid of the +bystanders, she would venture on a hat, and though there was +difficulty as to the payment, not being able to give her number as +she did with gloves, so that the tradesmen could send the article, +still she would manage to get the hat,—and the trimmings. It was +said of her that she once offered to lay an Ulster to a sealskin +jacket, but that the young man had coolly said that a sealskin jacket +was beyond a joke and had asked her whether she was ready to "put +down" her Ulster. These were little difficulties from which she +usually knew how to extricate herself without embarrassment; but she +had not expected to have to marshal her forces against such an enemy +as Lord Rufford, or to sit down for the besieging of such a city this +campaign. There were little things which required to be done, and the +lady's-maid certainly had not time to go to church on Sunday.</p> + +<p>But there were other things which troubled her even more than her +clothes. She did not much like Bragton, and at Bragton, in his own +house, she did not very much like her proposed husband. At Washington +he had been somebody. She had met him everywhere then, and had heard +him much talked about. At Washington he had been a popular man and +had had the reputation of being a rich man also;—but here, at home, +in the country he seemed to her to fall off in importance, and he +certainly had not made himself pleasant. Whether any man could be +pleasant to her in the retirement of a country house,—any man whom +she would have no interest in running down,—she did not ask herself. +An engagement to her must under any circumstances be a humdrum +thing,—to be brightened only by wealth. But here she saw no signs of +wealth. Nevertheless she was not prepared to shove away the plank +from below her feet, till she was sure that she had a more +substantial board on which to step. Her mother, who perhaps did not +see in the character of Morton all the charms which she would wish to +find in a son-in-law, was anxious to shake off the Bragton alliance; +but Arabella, as she said so often both to herself and to her mother, +was sick of the dust of the battle and conscious of fading strength. +She would make this one more attempt, but must make it with great +care. When last in town this young lord had whispered a word or two +to her, which then had set her hoping for a couple of days; and now, +when chance had brought her into his neighbourhood, he had gone out +of his way,—very much out of his way,—to renew his acquaintance +with her. She would be mad not to give herself the chance;—but yet +she could not afford to let the plank go from under her feet.</p> + +<p>But the part she had to play was one which even she felt to be almost +beyond her powers. She could perceive that Morton was beginning to be +jealous,—and that his jealousy was not of that nature which +strengthens a tie but which is apt to break it altogether. His +jealousy, if fairly aroused, would not be appeased by a final return +to himself. She had already given him occasion to declare himself +off, and if thoroughly angered he would no doubt use it. Day by day, +and almost hour by hour, he was becoming more sombre and hard, and +she was well aware that there was reason for it. It did not suit her +to walk about alone with him through the shrubberies. It did not suit +her to be seen with his arm round her waist. Of course the people of +Bragton would talk of the engagement, but she would prefer that they +should talk of it with doubt. Even her own maid had declared to Mrs. +Hopkins that she did not know whether there was or was not an +engagement,—her own maid being at the time almost in her confidence. +Very few of the comforts of a lover had been vouchsafed to John +Morton during this sojourn at Bragton and very little had been done +in accordance with his wishes. Even this visit to Rufford, as she +well knew, was being made in opposition to him. She hoped that her +lover would not attempt to ride to hounds on the Tuesday, so that she +might be near the lord unseen by him,—and that he would leave +Rufford on the Wednesday before herself and her mother. At the ball +of course she could dance with Lord Rufford, and could keep her eye +on her lover at the same time.</p> + +<p>She hardly saw Morton on the Sunday afternoon, and she was again +closeted on the Monday till lunch. They were to start at four and +there would not be much more than time after lunch for her to put on +her travelling gear. Then, as they all felt, there was a difficulty +about the carriages. Who was to go with whom? Arabella, after lunch, +took the bull by the horns. "I suppose," she said as Morton followed +her out into the hall, "mamma and I had better go in the phaeton."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking that Lady Augustus might consent to travel with Mr. +Gotobed and that you and I might have the phaeton."</p> + +<p>"Of course it would be very pleasant," she answered smiling.</p> + +<p>"Then why not let it be so?"</p> + +<p>"There are convenances."</p> + +<p>"How would it be if you and I were going without anybody else? Do you +mean to say that in that case we might not sit in the same carriage?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to say that in that case I should not go at all. It isn't +done in England. You have been in the States so long that you forget +all our old-fashioned ways."</p> + +<p>"I do think that is nonsense." She only smiled and shook her head. +"Then the Senator shall go in the phaeton, and I will go with you and +your mother."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—and quarrel with mamma all the time as you always do. Let me +have it my own way this time."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I believe you are ashamed of me," he said leaning back +upon the hall table. He had shut the dining-room door and she was +standing close to him.</p> + +<p>"What nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"You have only got to say so, Arabella, and let there be an end of it +all."</p> + +<p>"If you wish it, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"You know I don't wish it. You know I am ready to marry you +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You have made ever so many difficulties as far as I can understand."</p> + +<p>"You have unreasonable people acting for you, Arabella, and of course +I don't mean to give way to them."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't talk to me about money. I know nothing about it and have +taken no part in the matter. I suppose there must be settlements?"</p> + +<p>"Of course there must."</p> + +<p>"And I can only do what other people tell me. You at any rate have +something to do with it all, and I have absolutely nothing."</p> + +<p>"That is no reason you shouldn't go in the same carriage with me to +Rufford."</p> + +<p>"Are you coming back to that,—just like a big child? Do let us +consider that as settled. I'm sure you'll let mamma and me have the +use of the phaeton." Of course the little contest was ended in the +manner proposed by Arabella.</p> + +<p>"I do think," said Arabella, when she and her mother were seated in +the carriage, "that we have treated him very badly."</p> + +<p>"Quite as well as he deserves! What a house to bring us to;—and what +people! Did you ever come across such an old woman before! And she +has him completely under her thumb. Are you prepared to live with +that harridan?"</p> + +<p>"You may let me alone, mamma, for all that. She won't be in my way +after I'm married, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"You'll have something to do then."</p> + +<p>"I ain't a bit afraid of her."</p> + +<p>"And to ask us to meet such people as this American!"</p> + +<p>"He's going back to Washington and it suited him to have him. I don't +quarrel with him for that. I wish I were married to him and back in +the States."</p> + +<p>"You do?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"You have given it all up about Lord Rufford then?"</p> + +<p>"No;—that's just where it is. I haven't given it up, and I still see +trouble upon trouble before me. But I know how it will be. He doesn't +mean anything. He's only amusing himself."</p> + +<p>"If he'd once say the word he couldn't get back again. The Duke would +interfere then."</p> + +<p>"What would he care for the Duke? The Duke is no more than anybody +else nowadays. I shall just fall to the ground between two stools. I +know it as well as if it were done already. And then I shall have to +begin again! If it comes to that I shall do something terrible. I +know I shall." Then they turned in at Lord Rufford's gates; and as +they were driven up beneath the oaks, through the gloom, both mother +and daughter thought how charming it would be to be the mistress of +such a park.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-21" id="c1-21"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> +<h3>THE FIRST EVENING AT RUFFORD HALL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The phaeton arrived the first, the driver having been especially told +by Arabella that he need not delay on the road for the other +carriage. She had calculated that she might make her entrance with +better effect alone with her mother than in company with Morton and +the Senator. It would have been worth the while of any one who had +witnessed her troubles on that morning to watch the bland serenity +and happy ease with which she entered the room. Her mother was fond +of a prominent place but was quite contented on this occasion to play +a second fiddle for her daughter. She had seen at a glance that +Rufford Hall was a delightful house. Oh,—if it might become the home +of her child and her grandchildren,—and possibly a retreat for +herself! Arabella was certainly very handsome at this moment. Never +did she look better than when got up with care for travelling, +especially as seen by an evening light. Her slow motions were adapted +to heavy wraps, and however she might procure her large sealskin +jacket she graced it well when she had it. Lord Rufford came to the +door to meet them and immediately introduced them to his sister. +There were six or seven people in the room, mostly ladies, and tea +was offered to the new-comers. Lady Penwether was largely made, like +her brother; but was a languidly lovely woman, not altogether unlike +Arabella herself in her figure and movements, but with a more +expressive face, with less colour, and much more positive assurance +of high breeding. Lady Penwether was said to be haughty, but it was +admitted by all people that when Lady Penwether had said a thing or +had done a thing, it might be taken for granted that the way in which +she had done or said that thing was the right way. The only other +gentleman there was Major Caneback, who had just come in from hunting +with some distant pack and who had been brought into the room by Lord +Rufford that he might give some account of the doings of the day. +According to Caneback, they had been talking in the Brake country +about nothing but Goarly and the enormities which had been +perpetrated in the U. R. U. "By-the-bye, Miss Trefoil," said Lord +Rufford, "what have you done with your Senator?"</p> + +<p>"He's on the road, Lord Rufford, examining English institutions as he +comes along. He'll be here by midnight."</p> + +<p>"Imagine the man coming to me and telling me that he was a friend of +Goarly's. I rather liked him for it. There was a thorough pluck about +it. They say he's going to find all the money."</p> + +<p>"I thought Mr. Scrobby was to do that?" said Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Scrobby will not have the slightest objection to have that part +of the work done for him. If all we hear is true Miss Trefoil's +Senator may have to defend both Scrobby and Goarly."</p> + +<p>"My Senator as you call him will be quite up to the occasion."</p> + +<p>"You knew him in America, Miss Trefoil?" asked Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. We used to meet him and Mrs. Gotobed everywhere. But we +didn't exactly bring him over with us;—though our party down to +Bragton was made up in Washington," she added, feeling that she might +in this way account in some degree for her own presence in John +Morton's house. "It was mamma and Mr. Morton arranged it all."</p> + +<p>"Oh my dear it was you and the Senator," said Lady Augustus, ready +for the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Miss Trefoil," said the lord, "let us have it all out at once. Are +you taking Goarly's part?"</p> + +<p>"Taking Goarly's part!" ejaculated the Major.</p> + +<p>Arabella affected to give a little start, as though frightened by the +Major's enthusiasm. "For heaven's sake let us know our foes," +continued Lord Rufford. "You see the effect such an announcement had +upon Major Caneback. Have you made an appointment before dawn with +Mr. Scrobby under the elms? Now I look at you I believe in my heart +you're a Goarlyite,—only without the Senator's courage to tell me +the truth beforehand."</p> + +<p>"I really am very much obliged to Goarly," said Arabella, "because it +is so nice to have something to talk about."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I think, Miss Trefoil," declared a young lady, Miss +Penge, who was a friend of Lady Penwether. "The gentlemen have so +much to say about hunting which nobody can understand! But now this +delightful man has scattered poison all over the country there is +something that comes home to our understanding. I declare myself a +Goarlyite at once, Lord Rufford, and shall put myself under the +Senator's leading directly he comes."</p> + +<p>During all this time not a word had been said of John Morton, the +master of Bragton, the man to whose party these new-comers belonged. +Lady Augustus and Arabella clearly understood that John Morton was +only a peg on which the invitation to them had been hung. The feeling +that it was so grew upon them with every word that was spoken,—and +also the conviction that he must be treated like a peg at Rufford. +The sight of the hangings of the room, so different to the +old-fashioned dingy curtains at Bragton, the brilliancy of the +mirrors, all the decorations of the place, the very blaze from the +big grate, forced upon the girl's feelings a conviction that this was +her proper sphere. Here she was, being made much of as a new-comer, +and here if possible she must remain. Everything smiled on her with +gilded dimples, and these were the smiles she valued. As the softness +of the cushions sank into her heart, and mellow nothingnesses from +well-trained voices greeted her ears, and the air of wealth and +idleness floated about her cheeks, her imagination rose within her +and assured her that she could secure something better than Bragton. +The cautions with which she had armed herself faded away. This,—this +was the kind of thing for which she had been striving. As a girl of +spirit was it not worth her while to make another effort even though +there might be danger? Aut Cæsar aut nihil. She knew nothing about +Cæsar; but before the tardy wheels which brought the Senator and Mr. +Morton had stopped at the door she had declared to herself that she +would be Lady Rufford. The fresh party was of course brought into the +drawing-room and tea was offered; but Arabella hardly spoke to them, +and Lady Augustus did not speak to them at all, and they were shown +up to their bedrooms with very little preliminary conversation.</p> + +<p>It was very hard to put Mr. Gotobed down; or it might be more +correctly said,—as there was no effort to put him down,—that it was +not often that he failed in coming to the surface. He took Lady +Penwether out to dinner and was soon explaining to her that this +little experiment of his in regard to Goarly was being tried simply +with the view of examining the institutions of the country. "We don't +mind it from you," said Lady Penwether, "because you are in a certain +degree a foreigner." The Senator declared himself flattered by being +regarded as a foreigner only "in a certain degree." "You see you +speak our language, Mr. Gotobed, and we can't help thinking you are +half-English."</p> + +<p>"We are two-thirds English, my lady," said Mr. Gotobed; "but then we +think the other third is an improvement."</p> + +<p>"Very likely."</p> + +<p>"We have nothing so nice as this;" as he spoke he waved his right +hand to the different corners of the room. "Such a dinner-table as I +am sitting down to now couldn't be fixed in all the United States +though a man might spend three times as many dollars on it as his +lordship does."</p> + +<p>"That is very often done, I should think."</p> + +<p>"But then as we have nothing so well done as a house like this, so +also have we nothing so ill done as the houses of your poor people."</p> + +<p>"Wages are higher with you, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"And public spirit, and the philanthropy of the age, and the +enlightenment of the people, and the institutions of the country all +round. They are all higher."</p> + +<p>"Canvas-back ducks," said the Major, who was sitting two or three off +on the other side.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, we have canvas-back ducks."</p> + +<p>"Make up for a great many faults," said the Major.</p> + +<p>"Of course, sir, when a man's stomach rises above his intelligence +he'll have to argue accordingly," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Caneback, what are you going to ride to-morrow?" asked the lord who +saw the necessity of changing the conversation, as far at least as +the Major was concerned.</p> + +<p>"Jemima;—mare of Purefoy's; have my neck broken, they tell me."</p> + +<p>"It's not improbable," said Sir John Purefoy who was sitting at Lady +Penwether's left hand. "Nobody ever could ride her yet."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of asking you to let Miss Trefoil try her," said Lord +Rufford. Arabella was sitting between Sir John Purefoy and the Major.</p> + +<p>"Miss Trefoil is quite welcome," said Sir John. "It isn't a bad idea. +Perhaps she may carry a lady, because she has never been tried. I +know that she objects strongly to carry a man."</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Lady Augustus, "you shan't do anything of the kind." +And Lady Augustus pretended to be frightened.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you don't suppose Lord Rufford wants to kill me at once."</p> + +<p>"You shall either ride her, Miss Trefoil, or my little horse Jack. +But I warn you beforehand that as Jack is the easiest ridden horse in +the country, and can scramble over anything, and never came down in +his life, you won't get any honour and glory; but on Jemima you might +make a character that would stick to you till your dying day."</p> + +<p>"But if I ride Jemima that dying day might be to-morrow. I think I'll +take Jack, Lord Rufford, and let Major Caneback have the honour. Is +Jack fast?" In this way the anger arising between the Senator and the +Major was assuaged. The Senator still held his own, and, before the +question was settled between Jack and Jemima, had told the company +that no Englishman knew how to ride, and that the only seat fit for a +man on horseback was that suited for the pacing horses of California +and Mexico. Then he assured Sir John Purefoy that eighty miles a day +was no great journey for a pacing horse, with a man of fourteen stone +and a saddle and accoutrements weighing four more. The Major's +countenance, when the Senator declared that no Englishman could ride, +was a sight worth seeing.</p> + +<p>That evening, even in the drawing-room, the conversation was chiefly +about horses and hunting, and those terrible enemies Goarly and +Scrobby. Lady Penwether and Miss Penge who didn't hunt were distantly +civil to Lady Augustus of whom of course a woman so much in the world +as Lady Penwether knew something. Lady Penwether had shrugged her +shoulders when consulted as to these special guests and had expressed +a hope that Rufford "wasn't going to make a goose of himself." But +she was fond of her brother and as both Lady Purefoy and Miss Penge +were special friends of hers, and as she had also been allowed to +invite a couple of Godolphin's girls to whom she wished to be civil, +she did as she was asked. The girl, she said to Miss Penge that +evening, was handsome, but penniless and a flirt. The mother she +declared to be a regular old soldier. As to Lady Augustus she was +right; but she had perhaps failed to read Arabella's character +correctly. Arabella Trefoil was certainly not a flirt. In all the +horsey conversation Arabella joined, and her low, clear, slow voice +could be heard now and then as though she were really animated with +the subject. At Bragton she had never once spoken as though any +matter had interested her. During this time Morton fell into +conversation first with Lady Purefoy and then with the two Miss +Godolphins, and afterwards for a few minutes with Lady Penwether who +knew that he was a county gentleman and a respectable member of the +diplomatic profession. But during the whole evening his ear was +intent on the notes of Arabella's voice; and also, during the whole +evening, her eye was watching him. She would not lose her chance with +Lord Rufford for want of any effort on her own part. If aught were +required from her in her present task that might be offensive to Mr. +Morton,—anything that was peremptorily demanded for the effort,—she +would not scruple to offend the man. But if it might be done without +offence, so much the better. Once he came across the room and said a +word to her as she was talking to Lord Rufford and the Purefoys. "You +are really in earnest about riding to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, yes. Why shouldn't I be in earnest?"</p> + +<p>"You are coming out yourself I hope," said the Lord.</p> + +<p>"I have no horses here of my own, but I have told that man Stubbings +to send me something, and as I haven't been at Bragton for the last +seven years I have nothing proper to wear. I shan't be called a +Goarlyite I hope if I appear in trowsers."</p> + +<p>"Not unless you have a basket of red herrings on your arm," said Lord +Rufford. Then Morton retired back to the Miss Godolphins finding that +he had nothing more to say to Arabella.</p> + +<p>He was very angry,—though he hardly knew why or with whom. A girl +when she is engaged is not supposed to talk to no one but her +recognised lover in a mixed party of ladies and gentlemen, and she is +especially absolved from such a duty when they chance to meet in the +house of a comparative stranger. In such a house and among such +people it was natural that the talk should be about hunting, and as +the girl had accepted the loan of a horse it was natural that she +should join in such conversation. She had never sat for a moment +apart with Lord Rufford. It was impossible to say that she had +flirted with the man,—and yet Morton felt that he was neglected, and +felt also that he was only there because this pleasure-seeking young +Lord had liked to have in his house the handsome girl whom he, +Morton, intended to marry. He felt thoroughly ashamed of being there +as it were in the train of Miss Trefoil. He was almost disposed to +get up and declare that the girl was engaged to marry him. He thought +that he could put an end to the engagement without breaking his +heart;—but if the engagement was an engagement he could not submit +to treatment such as this, either from her or from others. He would +see her for the last time in the country at the ball on the following +evening,—as of course he would not be near her during the +hunting,—and then he would make her understand that she must be +altogether his or altogether cease to be his. And so resolving he +went to bed, refusing to join the gentlemen in the smoking-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma," Arabella said to her mother that evening, "I do so wish +I could break my arm to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Break your arm, my dear!"</p> + +<p>"Or my leg would be better. I wish I could have the courage to chuck +myself off going over some gate. If I could be laid up here now with +a broken limb I really think I could do it."</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-22" id="c1-22"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> +<h3>JEMIMA.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>As the meet on the next morning was in the park the party at Rufford +Hall was able to enjoy the luxury of an easy morning together with +the pleasures of the field. There was no getting up at eight o'clock, +no hurry and scurry to do twenty miles and yet be in time, no +necessity for the tardy dressers to swallow their breakfasts while +their more energetic companions were raving at them for compromising +the chances of the day by their delay. There was a public breakfast +down-stairs, at which all the hunting farmers of the country were to +be seen, and some who only pretended to be hunting farmers on such +occasions. But up-stairs there was a private breakfast for the ladies +and such of the gentlemen as preferred tea to champagne and cherry +brandy. Lord Rufford was in and out of both rooms, making himself +generally agreeable. In the public room there was a great deal said +about Goarly, to all of which the Senator listened with eager +ears,—for the Senator preferred the public breakfast as offering +another institution to his notice. "He'll swing on a gallows afore +he's dead," said one energetic farmer who was sitting next to Mr. +Gotobed,—a fat man with a round head, and a bullock's neck, dressed +in a black coat with breeches and top-boots. John Runce was not a +riding man. He was too heavy and short-winded;—too fond of his beer +and port wine; but he was a hunting man all over, one who always had +a fox in the springs at the bottom of his big meadows, one to whom it +was the very breath of his nostrils to shake hands with the hunting +gentry and to be known as a staunch friend to the U. R. U. A man did +not live in the county more respected than John Runce, or who was +better able to pay his way. To his thinking an animal more injurious +than Goarly to the best interests of civilisation could not have been +produced by all the evil influences of the world combined. "Do you +really think," said the Senator calmly, "that a man should be hanged +for killing a fox?" John Runce, who was not very ready, turned round +and stared at him. "I haven't heard of any other harm that he has +done, and perhaps he had some provocation for that." Words were +wanting to Mr. Runce, but not indignation. He collected together his +plate and knife and fork and his two glasses and his lump of bread, +and, looking the Senator full in the face, slowly pushed back his +chair and, carrying his provisions with him, toddled off to the other +end of the room. When he reached a spot where place was made for him +he had hardly breath left to speak. "Well," he said, "I +<span class="nowrap">never—!"</span> He +sat a minute in silence shaking his head, and continued to shake his +head and look round upon his neighbours as he devoured his food.</p> + +<p>Up-stairs there was a very cosy party who came in by degrees. Lady +Penwether was there soon after ten with Miss Penge and some of the +gentlemen, including Morton, who was the only man seen in that room +in black. Young Hampton, who was intimate in the house, made his way +up there and Sir John Purefoy joined the party. Sir John was a +hunting man who lived in the county and was an old friend of the +family. Lady Purefoy hunted also, and came in later. Arabella was the +last,—not from laziness, but aware that in this way the effect might +be the best. Lord Rufford was in the room when she entered it and of +course she addressed herself to him. "Which is it to be, Lord +Rufford, Jack or Jemima?"</p> + +<p>"Which ever you like."</p> + +<p>"I am quite indifferent. If you'll put me on the mare I'll ride +her,—or try."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you won't," said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Mamma knows nothing about it, Lord Rufford. I believe I could do +just as well as Major Caneback."</p> + +<p>"She never had a lady on her in her life," said Sir John.</p> + +<p>"Then it's time for her to begin. But at any rate I must have some +breakfast first." Then Lord Rufford brought her a cup of tea and Sir +John gave her a cutlet, and she felt herself to be happy. She was +quite content with her hat, and though her habit was not exactly a +hunting habit, it fitted her well. Morton had never before seen her +in a riding dress and acknowledged that it became her. He struggled +to think of something special to say to her, but there was nothing. +He was not at home on such an occasion. His long trowsers weighed him +down, and his ordinary morning coat cowed him. He knew in his heart +that she thought nothing of him as he was now. But she said a word to +him,—with that usual smile of hers. "Of course, Mr. Morton, you are +coming with us."</p> + +<p>"A little way perhaps."</p> + +<p>"You'll find that any horse from Stubbings can go," said Lord +Rufford. "I wish I could say as much of all mine."</p> + +<p>"Jack can go, I hope, Lord Rufford." Lord Rufford nodded his head. +"And I shall expect you to give me a lead." To this he assented, +though it was perhaps more than he had intended. But on such an +occasion it is almost impossible to refuse such a request.</p> + +<p>At half-past eleven they were all out in the park, and Tony was elate +as a prince having been regaled with a tumbler of champagne. But the +great interest of the immediate moment were the frantic efforts made +by Jemima to get rid of her rider. Once or twice Sir John asked the +Major to give it up, but the Major swore that the mare was a good +mare and only wanted riding. She kicked and squealed and backed and +went round the park with him at a full gallop. In the park there was +a rail with a ha-ha ditch, and the Major rode her at it in a gallop. +She went through the timber, fell in the ditch, and then was brought +up again without giving the man a fall. He at once put her back at +the same fence, and she took it, almost in her stride, without +touching it. "Have her like a spaniel before the day's over," said +the Major, who thoroughly enjoyed these little encounters.</p> + +<p>Among the laurels at the bottom of the park a fox was found, and then +there was a great deal of riding about the grounds. All this was much +enjoyed by the ladies who were on foot,—and by the Senator who +wandered about the place alone. A gentleman's park is not always the +happiest place for finding a fox. The animal has usually many +resources there and does not like to leave it. And when he does go +away it is not always easy to get after him. But ladies in a carriage +or on foot on such occasions have their turn of the sport. On this +occasion it was nearly one before the fox allowed himself to be +killed, and then he had hardly been outside the park palings. There +was a good deal of sherry drank before the party got away and hunting +men such as Major Caneback began to think that the day was to be +thrown away. As they started off for Shugborough Springs, the little +covert on John Runce's farm which was about four miles from Rufford +Hall, Sir John asked the Major to get on another animal. "You've had +trouble enough with her for one day, and given her enough to do." But +the Major was not of that way of thinking. "Let her have the day's +work," said the Major. "Do her good. Remember what she's learned." +And so they trotted off to Shugborough.</p> + +<p>While they were riding about the park Morton had kept near to Miss +Trefoil. Lord Rufford, being on his own place and among his own +coverts, had had cares on his hand and been unable to devote himself +to the young lady. She had never for a moment looked up at her lover, +or tried to escape from him. She had answered all his questions, +saying, however, very little, and had bided her time. The more +gracious she was to Morton now the less ground would he have for +complaining of her when she should leave him by-and-by. As they were +trotting along the road Lord Rufford came up and apologized. "I'm +afraid I've been very inattentive, Miss Trefoil; but I dare say +you've been in better hands."</p> + +<p>"There hasn't been much to do,—has there?"</p> + +<p>"Very little. I suppose a man isn't responsible for having foxes that +won't break. Did you see the Senator? He seemed to think it was all +right. Did you hear of John Runce?" Then he told the story of John +Runce, which had been told to him.</p> + +<p>"What a fine old fellow! I should forgive him his rent."</p> + +<p>"He is much better able to pay me double. Your Senator, Mr. Morton, +is a very peculiar man."</p> + +<p>"He is peculiar," said Morton, "and I am sorry to say can make +himself very disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"We might as well trot on as Shugborough is a small place, and a fox +always goes away from it at once. John Runce knows how to train them +better than I do." Then they made their way on through the straggling +horses, and John Morton, not wishing to seem to be afraid of his +rival, remained alone. "I wish Caneback had left that mare behind," +said the lord as they went. "It isn't the country for her, and she is +going very nastily with him. Are you fond of hunting, Miss Trefoil?"</p> + +<p>"Very fond of it," said Arabella who had been out two or three times +in her life.</p> + +<p>"I like a girl to ride to hounds," said his lordship. "I don't think +she ever looks so well." Then Arabella determined that come what +might she would ride to hounds.</p> + +<p>At Shugborough Springs a fox was found before half the field was up, +and he broke almost as soon as he was found. "Follow me through the +handgates," said the lord, "and from the third field out it's fair +riding. Let him have his head, and remember he hangs a moment as he +comes to his fence. You won't be left behind unless there's something +out of the way to stop us." Arabella's heart was in her mouth, but +she was quite resolved. Where he went she would follow. As for being +left behind she would not care the least for that if he were left +behind with her. They got well away, having to pause a moment while +the hounds came up to Tony's horn out of the wood. Then there was +plain sailing and there were very few before them. "He's one of the +old sort, my lord," said Tony as he pressed on, speaking of the fox. +"Not too near me, and you'll go like a bird," said his lordship. +"He's a nice little horse, isn't he? When I'm going to be married, +he'll be the first present I shall make her."</p> + +<p>"He'd tempt almost any girl," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful how well she went, knowing so little about it as she +did. The horse was one easily ridden, and on plain ground she knew +what she was about in a saddle. At any rate she did not disgrace +herself and when they had already run some three or four miles Lord +Rufford had nearly the best of it and she had kept with him. "You +don't know where you are I suppose," he said when they came to a +check.</p> + +<p>"And I don't in the least care, if they'd only go on," said she +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"We're back at Rufford Park. We've left the road nearly a mile to our +left, but there we are. Those trees are the park."</p> + +<p>"But must we stop there?"</p> + +<p>"That's as the fox may choose to behave. We shan't stop unless he +does." Then young Hampton came up, declaring that there was the very +mischief going on between Major Caneback and Jemima. According to +Hampton's account, the Major had been down three or four times, but +was determined to break either the mare's neck or her spirit. He had +been considerably hurt, so Hampton said, in one shoulder, but had +insisted on riding on. "That's the worst of him," said Lord Rufford. +"He never knows when to give up."</p> + +<p>Then the hounds were again on the scent and were running very fast +towards the park. "That's a nasty ditch before us," said the Lord. +"Come down a little to the left. The hounds are heading that way, and +there's a gate." Young Hampton in the meantime was going straight for +the fence.</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Give him his head and he'll do it."</p> + +<p>Just at that moment there was a noise behind them and the Major on +Jemima rushed up. She was covered with foam and he with dirt, and her +sides were sliced with the spur. His hat was crushed, and he was +riding almost altogether with his right hand. He came close to +Arabella and she could see the rage in his face as the animal rushed +on with her head almost between her knees. "He'll have another fall +there," said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>Hampton who had passed them was the first over the fence, and the +other three all took it abreast. The Major was to the right, the lord +to the left and the girl between them. The mare's head was perhaps +the first. She rushed at the fence, made no leap at all, and of +course went headlong into the ditch. The Major still stuck to her +though two or three voices implored him to get off. He afterwards +declared that he had not strength to lift himself out of the saddle. +The mare lay for a moment;—then blundered out, rolled over him, +jumped on to her feet, and lunging out kicked her rider on the head +as he was rising. Then she went away and afterwards jumped the +palings into Rufford Park. That evening she was shot.</p> + +<p>The man when kicked had fallen back close under the feet of Miss +Trefoil's horse. She screamed and half-fainting, fell also;—but fell +without hurting herself. Lord Rufford of course stopped, as did also +Mr. Hampton and one of the whips,—with several others in the course +of a minute or two. The Major was senseless,—but they who understood +what they were looking at were afraid that the case was very bad. He +was picked up and put on a door and within half an hour was on his +bed in Rufford Hall. But he did not speak for some hours and before +six o'clock that evening the doctor from Rufford had declared that he +had mounted his last horse and ridden his last hunt!</p> + +<p>"Oh Lord Rufford," said Arabella, "I shall never recover that. I +heard the horse's feet against his head." Lord Rufford shuddered and +put his hand round her waist to support her. At that time they were +standing on the ground. "Don't mind me if you can do any good to +him." But there was nothing that Lord Rufford could do as four men +were carrying the Major on a shutter. So he and Arabella returned +together, and when she got off her horse she was only able to throw +herself into his arms.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-23" id="c1-23"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> +<h3>POOR CANEBACK.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>A closer intimacy will occasionally be created by some accident, some +fortuitous circumstance, than weeks of ordinary intercourse will +produce. Walk down Bond Street in a hailstorm of peculiar severity +and you may make a friend of the first person you meet, whereas you +would be held to have committed an affront were you to speak to the +same person in the same place on a fine day. You shall travel +smoothly to York with a lady and she will look as though she would +call the guard at once were you so much as to suggest that it were a +fine day; but if you are lucky enough to break a wheel before you get +to Darlington, she will have told you all her history and shared your +sherry by the time you have reached that town. Arabella was very much +shocked by the dreadful accident she had seen. Her nerves had +suffered, though it may be doubted whether her heart had been +affected much. But she was quite conscious when she reached her room +that the poor Major's misfortune, happening as it had done just +beneath her horse's feet, had been a godsend to her. For a moment the +young lord's arm had been round her waist and her head had been upon +his shoulder. And again when she had slipped from her saddle she had +felt his embrace. His fervour to her had been simply the uncontrolled +expression of his feeling at the moment,—as one man squeezes another +tightly by the hand in any crisis of sudden impulse. She knew +this;—but she knew also that he would probably revert to the +intimacy which the sudden emotion had created. The mutual galvanic +shock might be continued at the next meeting,—and so on. They had +seen the tragedy together and it would not fail to be a bond of +union. As she told the tragedy to her mother, she delicately laid +aside her hat and whip and riding dress, and then asked whether it +was not possible that they might prolong their stay at Rufford. "But +the Gores, my dear! I put them off, you know, for two days only." +Then Arabella declared that she did not care a straw for the Gores. +In such a matter as this what would it signify though they should +quarrel with a whole generation of Gores? For some time she thought +that she would not come down again that afternoon or even that +evening. It might well be that the sight of the accident should have +made her too ill to appear. She felt conscious that in that moment +and in the subsequent half hour she had carried herself well, and +that there would be an interest about her were she to own herself +compelled to keep her room. Were she now to take to her bed they +could not turn her out on the following day. But at last her mother's +counsel put an end to that plan. Time was too precious. "I think you +might lose more than you'd gain," said her mother.</p> + +<p>Both Lord Rufford and his sister were very much disturbed as to what +they should do on the occasion. At half-past six Lord Rufford was +told that the Major had recovered his senses, but that the case was +almost hopeless. Of course he saw his guest. "I'm all right," said +the Major. The Lord sat there by the bedside, holding the man's hand +for a few moments, and then got up to leave him. "No nonsense about +putting off," said the Major in a faint voice; "beastly bosh all +that!"</p> + +<p>But what was to be done? The dozen people who were in the house must +of course sit down to dinner. And then all the neighbourhood for +miles round were coming to a ball. It would be impossible to send +messages to everybody. And there was the feeling too that the man was +as yet only ill, and that his recovery was possible. A ball, with a +dead man in one of the bedrooms, would be dreadful. With a dying man +it was bad enough;—but then a dying man is always also a living man! +Lord Rufford had already telegraphed for a first-class surgeon from +London, it having been whispered to him that perhaps Old Nokes from +Rufford might be mistaken. The surgeon could not be there till four +o'clock in the morning by which time care would have been taken to +remove the signs of the ball; but if there was reason to send for a +London surgeon, then also was there reason for hope;—and if there +were ground for hope, then the desirability of putting off the ball +was very much reduced. "He's at the furthest end of the corridor," +the Lord said to his sister, "and won't hear a sound of the music."</p> + +<p>Though the man were to die why shouldn't the people dance? Had the +Major been dying three or four miles off, at the hotel at Rufford, +there would only have been a few sad looks, a few shakings of the +head, and the people would have danced without any flaw in their +gaiety. Had it been known at Rufford Hall that he was lying at that +moment in his mortal agony at Aberdeen, an exclamation or two,—"Poor +Caneback!"—"poor Major!"—would have been the extent of the wailing, +and not the pressure of a lover's hand would have been lightened, or +the note of a fiddle delayed. And nobody in that house really cared +much for Caneback. He was not a man worthy of much care. He was +possessed of infinite pluck, and now that he was dying could bear it +well. But he had loved no one particularly, had been dear to no one +in these latter days of his life, had been of very little use in the +world, and had done very little more for society than any other +horse-trainer! But nevertheless it is a bore when a gentleman dies in +your house,—and a worse bore if he dies from an accident than from +an illness for which his own body may be supposed to be responsible. +Though the gout should fly to a man's stomach in your best bedroom, +the idea never strikes you that your burgundy has done it! But here +the mare had done the mischief.</p> + +<p>Poor Caneback;—and poor Lord Rufford! The Major was quite certain +that it was all over with himself. He had broken so many of his bones +and had his head so often cracked that he understood his own anatomy +pretty well. There he lay quiet and composed, sipping small modicums +of brandy and water, and taking his outlook into such transtygian +world as he had fashioned for himself in his dull imagination. If he +had misgivings he showed them to no bystander. If he thought then +that he might have done better with his energies than devote them to +dangerous horses, he never said so. His voice was weak, but it never +quailed; and the only regret he expressed was that he had not changed +the bit in Jemima's mouth. Lord Rufford's position was made worse by +an expression from Sir John Purefoy that the party ought to be put +off. Sir John was in a measure responsible for what his mare had +done, and was in a wretched state. "If it could possibly affect the +poor fellow I would do it," said Lord Rufford; "but it would create +very great inconvenience and disappointment. I have to think of other +people." "Then I shall send my wife home," said Sir John. And Lady +Purefoy was sent home. Sir John himself of course could not leave the +house while the man was alive. Before they all sat down to dinner the +Major was declared to be a little stronger. That settled the question +and the ball was not put off.</p> + +<p>The ladies came down to dinner in a melancholy guise. They were not +fully dressed for the evening and were of course inclined to be +silent and sad. Before Lord Rufford came in Arabella managed to get +herself on to the sofa next to Lady Penwether, and then to undergo +some little hysterical manifestation, "Oh Lady Penwether; if you had +seen it;—and heard it!"</p> + +<p>"I am very glad that I was spared anything so horrible."</p> + +<p>"And the man's face as he passed me going to the leap! It will haunt +me to my dying day!" Then she shivered, and gurgled in her throat, +and turning suddenly round, hid her face on the elbow of the couch.</p> + +<p>"I've been afraid all the afternoon that she would be ill," whispered +Lady Augustus to Miss Penge. "She is so susceptible!"</p> + +<p>When Lord Rufford came into the room Arabella at once got up and +accosted him with a whisper. Either he took her or she took him into +a distant part of the room where they conversed apart for five +minutes. And he, as he told her how things were going and what was +being done, bent over her and whispered also. "What good would it do, +you know?" she said with affected intimacy as he spoke of his +difficulty about the ball. "One would do anything if one could be of +service,—but that would do nothing." She felt completely that her +presence at the accident had given her a right to have peculiar +conversations and to be consulted about everything. Of course she was +very sorry for Major Caneback. But as it had been ordained that Major +Caneback was to have his head split in two by a kick from a horse, +and that Lord Rufford was to be there to see it, how great had been +the blessing which had brought her to the spot at the same time!</p> + +<p>Everybody there saw the intimacy and most of them understood the way +in which it was being used. "That girl is very clever, Rufford," his +sister whispered to him before dinner. "She is very much excited +rather than clever just at present," he answered;—upon which Lady +Penwether shook her head. Miss Penge whispered to Miss Godolphin that +Miss Trefoil was making the most of it; and Mr. Morton, who had come +into the room while the conversation apart was going on, had +certainly been of the same opinion.</p> + +<p>She had seated herself in an arm-chair away from the others after +that conversation was over, and as she sat there Morton came up to +her. He had been so little intimate with the members of the party +assembled and had found himself so much alone, that he had only +lately heard the story about Major Caneback, and had now only heard +it imperfectly. But he did see that an absolute intimacy had been +effected where two days before there had only been a slight +acquaintance; and he believed that this sudden rush had been in some +way due to the accident of which he had been told. "You know what has +happened?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Morton; do not talk to me about it!"</p> + +<p>"Were you not speaking of it to Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I was. We were together."</p> + +<p>"Did you see it?" Then she shuddered, put her handkerchief up to her +eyes, and turned her face away. "And yet the ball is to go on?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Pray, pray, do not dwell on it,—unless you wish to force me back to +my room. When I left it I felt that I was attempting to do too much." +This might have been all very well had she not been so manifestly +able to talk to Lord Rufford on the same subject. If there is any +young man to whom a girl should be able to speak when she is in a +state of violent emotion, it is the young man to whom she is engaged. +So at least thought Mr. John Morton.</p> + +<p>Then dinner was announced, and the dinner certainly was sombre +enough. A dinner before a ball in the country never is very much of a +dinner. The ladies know that there is work before them, and keep +themselves for the greater occasion. Lady Purefoy had gone, and Lady +Penwether was not very happy in the prospects for the evening. +Neither Miss Penge nor either of the two Miss Godolphins had +entertained personal hopes in regard to Lord Rufford, but +nevertheless they took badly the great favour shown to Arabella. Lady +Augustus did not get on particularly well with any of the other +ladies,—and there seemed during the dinner to be an air of +unhappiness over them all. They retired as soon as it was possible, +and then Arabella at once went up to her bedroom.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Nokes says he is a little stronger, my Lord," said the butler +coming into the room. Mr. Nokes had gone home and had returned again.</p> + +<p>"He might pull through yet," said Mr. Hampton. Lord Rufford shook his +head. Then Mr. Gotobed told a wonderful story of an American who had +had his brains knocked almost out of his head and had sat in Congress +afterwards. "He was the finest horseman I ever saw on a horse," said +Hampton.</p> + +<p>"A little too much temper," said Captain Battersby, who was a very +old friend of the Major.</p> + +<p>"I'd give a good deal that that mare had never been brought to my +stables," said Lord Rufford. "Purefoy will never get over it, and I +shan't forget it in a hurry." Sir John at this time was up-stairs +with the sufferer. Even while drinking their wine they could not keep +themselves from the subject, and were convivial in a cadaverous +fashion.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-24" id="c1-24"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> +<h3>THE BALL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The people came of course, but not in such numbers as had been +expected. Many of those in Rufford had heard of the accident, and +having been made acquainted with Nokes's report, stayed away. +Everybody was told that supper would be on the table at twelve, and +that it was generally understood that the house was to be cleared by +two. Nokes seemed to think that the sufferer would live at least till +the morrow, and it was ascertained to a certainty that the music +could not affect him. It was agreed among the party in the house that +the ladies staying there should stand up for the first dance or two, +as otherwise the strangers would be discouraged and the whole thing +would be a failure. This request was made by Lady Penwether because +Miss Penge had said that she thought it impossible for her to dance. +Poor Miss Penge, who was generally regarded as a brilliant young +woman, had been a good deal eclipsed by Arabella and had seen the +necessity of striking out some line for herself. Then Arabella had +whispered a few words to Lord Rufford, and the lord had whispered a +few words to his sister, and Lady Penwether had explained what was to +be done to the ladies around. Lady Augustus nodded her head and said +that it was all right. The other ladies of course agreed, and +partners were selected within the house party. Lord Rufford stood up +with Arabella and John Morton with Lady Penwether. Mr. Gotobed +selected Miss Penge, and Hampton and Battersby the two Miss +Godolphins. They all took their places with a lugubrious but +business-like air, as aware that they were sacrificing themselves in +the performance of a sad duty. But Morton was not allowed to dance in +the same quadrille with the lady of his affections. Lady Penwether +explained to him that she and her brother had better divide +themselves,—for the good of the company generally,—and therefore he +and Arabella were also divided.</p> + +<p>A rumour had reached Lady Penwether of the truth in regard to their +guests from Bragton. Mr. Gotobed had whispered to her that he had +understood that they certainly were engaged; and, even before that, +the names of the two lovers had been wafted to her ears from the +other side of the Atlantic. Both John Morton and Lady Augustus were +"somebodies," and Lady Penwether generally knew what there was to be +known of anybody who was anybody. But it was quite clear to +her,—more so even than to poor John Morton,—that the lady was +conducting herself now as though she were fettered by no bonds, and +it seemed to Lady Penwether also that the lady was very anxious to +contract other bonds. She knew her brother well. He was always in +love with somebody; but as he had hitherto failed of success where +marriage was desirable, so had he avoided disaster when it was not. +He was one of those men who are generally supposed to be averse to +matrimony. Lady Penwether and some other relatives were anxious that +he should take a wife;—but his sister was by no means anxious that +he should take such a one as Arabella Trefoil. Therefore she thought +that she might judiciously ask Mr. Morton a few questions. "I believe +you knew the Trefoils in Washington?" she said. Morton acknowledged +that he had seen much of them there. "She is very handsome, +certainly."</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"And rides well I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I never heard much of her riding."</p> + +<p>"Has she been staying long at Bragton?"</p> + +<p>"Just a week."</p> + +<p>"Do you know Lord Augustus?" Morton said that he did not know Lord +Augustus and then answered sundry other questions of the same nature +in the same uncommunicative way. Though he had once or twice almost +fancied that he would like to proclaim aloud that the girl was +engaged to him, yet he did not like to have the fact pumped out of +him. And if she were such a girl as she now appeared to be, might it +not be better for him to let her go? Surely her conduct here at +Rufford Hall was opportunity enough. No doubt she was handsome. No +doubt he loved her,—after his fashion of loving. But to lose her now +would not break his heart, whereas to lose her after he was married +to her, would, he knew well, bring him to the very ground. He would +ask her a question or two this very night, and then come to some +resolution. With such thoughts as these crossing his mind he +certainly was not going to proclaim his engagement to Lady Penwether. +But Lady Penwether was a determined woman. Her smile, when she +condescended to smile, was very sweet,—lighting up her whole face +and flattering for the moment the person on whom it shone. It was as +though a rose in emitting its perfume could confine itself to the +nostrils of its one favoured friend. And now she smiled on Morton as +she asked another question. "I did hear," she said, "from one of your +Foreign Office young men that you and Miss Trefoil were very +intimate."</p> + +<p>"Who was that, Lady Penwether?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall mention no name. You might call out the poor lad +and shoot him, or, worse still, have him put down to the bottom of +his class. But I did hear it. And then, when I find her staying with +her mother at your house, of course I believe it to be true."</p> + +<p>"Now she is staying at your brother's house,—which is much the same +thing."</p> + +<p>"But I am here."</p> + +<p>"And my grandmother is at Bragton."</p> + +<p>"That puts me in mind, Mr. Morton. I am so sorry that we did not know +it, so that we might have asked her."</p> + +<p>"She never goes out anywhere, Lady Penwether."</p> + +<p>"And there is nothing then in the report that I heard?"</p> + +<p>Morton paused a moment before he answered, and during that moment +collected his diplomatic resources. He was not a weak man, who could +be made to tell anything by the wiles of a pretty woman. "I think," +he said, "that when people have anything of that kind which they wish +to be known, they declare it."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. I did not mean to unravel a secret."</p> + +<p>"There are secrets, Lady Penwether, which people do like to unravel, +but which the owners of them sometimes won't abandon." Then there was +nothing more said on the subject. Lady Penwether did not smile again, +and left him to go about the room on her business as hostess, as soon +as the dance was over. But she was sure that they were engaged.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the conversation between Lord Rufford and Arabella +was very different in its tone, though on the same subject. He was +certainly very much struck with her, not probably ever waiting to +declare to himself that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever +seen in his life, but still feeling towards her an attraction which +for the time was strong. A very clever girl would frighten him; a +very horsey girl would disgust him; a very quiet girl would bore him; +or a very noisy girl annoy him. With a shy girl he could never be at +his ease, not enjoying the labour of overcoming such a barrier; and +yet he liked to be able to feel that any female intimacy which he +admitted was due to his own choice and not to that of the young +woman. Arabella Trefoil was not very clever, but she had given all +her mind to this peculiar phase of life, and, to use a common phrase, +knew what she was about. She was quite alive to the fact that +different men require different manners in a young woman; and as she +had adapted herself to Mr. Morton at Washington, so could she at +Rufford adapt herself to Lord Rufford. At the present moment the lord +was in love with her as much as he was wont to be in love. "Doesn't +it seem an immense time since we came here yesterday?" she said to +him. "There has been so much done."</p> + +<p>"There has been a great misfortune."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that is it. Only for that how very very pleasant it would +have been!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. It was a nice run, and that little horse carried you +charmingly. I wish I could see you ride him again." She shook her +head as she looked up into his face. "Why do you shake your head?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am afraid there is no possible chance of such happiness. +We are going to such a dull house to-morrow! And then to so many dull +houses afterwards."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you shouldn't come back and have another day or +two;—when all this sadness has gone by."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about it, Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I never like to talk about any pleasure because it always vanishes +as soon as it has come;—and when it has been real pleasure it never +comes back again. I don't think I ever enjoyed anything so much as +our ride this morning,—till that tragedy came."</p> + +<p>"Poor Caneback!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose there is no hope?" He shook his head. "And we must go on +to those Gores to-morrow without knowing anything about it. I wonder +whether you could send me a line."</p> + +<p>"Of course I can, and I will." Then he asked her a question looking +into her face. "You are not going back to Bragton?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no."</p> + +<p>"Was Bragton dull?"</p> + +<p>"Awfully dull;—frightfully dull."</p> + +<p>"You know what they say?"</p> + +<p>"What who say, Lord Rufford? People say anything,—the more +ill-natured the better they like it, I think."</p> + +<p>"Have you not heard what they say about you and Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"Just because mamma made a promise when in Washington to go to +Bragton with that Mr. Gotobed. Don't you find they marry you to +everybody?"</p> + +<p>"They have married me to a good many people. Perhaps they'll marry me +to you to-morrow. That would not be so bad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord Rufford! Nobody has ever condemned you to anything so +terrible as that."</p> + +<p>"There was no truth in it then, Miss Trefoil?"</p> + +<p>"None at all, Lord Rufford. Only I don't know why you should ask me."</p> + +<p>"Well; I don't know. A man likes sometimes to be sure how the land +lies. Mr. Morton looks so cross that I thought that perhaps the very +fact of my dancing with you might be an offence."</p> + +<p>"Is he cross?"</p> + +<p>"You know him better than I do. Perhaps it's his nature. Now I must +do one other dance with a native and then my work will be over."</p> + +<p>"That isn't very civil, Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"If you do not know what I meant, you're not the girl I take you to +be." Then as she walked with him back out of the ball-room into the +drawing-room she assured him that she did know what he meant, and +that therefore she was the girl he took her to be.</p> + +<p>She had determined that she would not dance again and had resolved to +herd with the other ladies of the house,—waiting for any opportunity +that chance might give her for having a last word with Lord Rufford +before they parted for the night,—when Morton came up to her and +demanded rather than asked that she would stand up with him for a +quadrille. "We settled it all among ourselves, you know," she said. +"We were to dance only once, just to set the people off." He still +persisted, but she still refused, alleging that she was bound by the +general compact; and though he was very urgent she would not yield. +"I wonder how you can ask me," she said. "You don't suppose that +after what has occurred I can have any pleasure in dancing." Upon +this he asked her to take a turn with him through the rooms, and to +that she found herself compelled to assent. Then he spoke out to her. +"Arabella," he said, "I am not quite content with what has been going +on since we came to this house."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that."</p> + +<p>"Nor, indeed, have I been made very happy by all that has occurred +since your mother and you did me the honour of coming to Bragton."</p> + +<p>"I must acknowledge you haven't seemed to be very happy, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to distress you;—and as far as possible I wish to +avoid distressing myself. If it is your wish that our engagement +should be over, I will endeavour to bear it. If it is to be +continued,—I expect that your manner to me should be altered."</p> + +<p>"What am I to say?"</p> + +<p>"Say what you feel."</p> + +<p>"I feel that I can't alter my manner, as you call it."</p> + +<p>"You do wish the engagement to be over then?"</p> + +<p>"I did not say so. The truth is, Mr. Morton, that there is some +trouble about the lawyers."</p> + +<p>"Why do you always call me Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am aware how probable it is that all this may come to +nothing. I can't walk out of the house and marry you as the cookmaid +does the gardener. I've got to wait till I'm told that everything is +settled; and at present I'm told that things are not settled because +you won't agree."</p> + +<p>"I'll leave it to anybody to say whether I've been unreasonable."</p> + +<p>"I won't go into that. I haven't meddled with it, and I don't know +anything about it. But until it is all settled as a matter of course +there must be some little distance between us. It's the commonest +thing in the world, I should say."</p> + +<p>"What is to be the end of it?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. If you think yourself injured you can back out of it +at once. I've nothing more to say about it."</p> + +<p>"And you think I can like the way you're going on here?"</p> + +<p>"If you're jealous, Mr. Morton, there's an end of it. I tell you +fairly once for all, that as long as I'm a single woman I will +regulate my conduct as I please. You can do the same, and I shall not +say a word to you." Then she withdrew her arm from him, and, leaving +him, walked across the room and joined her mother. He went off at +once to his own room resolving that he would write to her from +Bragton. He had made his propositions in regard to money which he was +quite aware were as liberal as was fit. If she would now fix a day +for their marriage, he would be a happy man. If she would not bring +herself to do this, then he would have no alternative but to regard +their engagement as at an end.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock the guests were nearly all gone. The Major was alive, +and likely to live at least for some hours, and the Rufford people +generally were glad that they had not put off the ball. Some of them +who were staying in the house had already gone to bed, and Lady +Penwether, with Miss Penge at her side, was making her last adieux in +the drawing-room. The ball-room was reached from the drawing-room, +with a vestibule between them, and opening from this was a small +chamber, prettily furnished but seldom used, which had no peculiar +purpose of its own, but in which during the present evening many +sweet words had probably been spoken. Now, at this last moment, Lord +Rufford and Arabella Trefoil were there alone together. She had just +got up from a sofa, and he had taken her hand in his. She did not +attempt to withdraw it, but stood looking down upon the ground. Then +he passed his arm round her waist and lifting her face to his held +her in a close embrace from which she made no effort to free herself. +As soon as she was released she hastened to the door which was all +but closed, and as she opened it and passed through to the +drawing-room said some ordinary word to him quite aloud in her +ordinary voice. If his action had disturbed her she knew very well +how to recover her equanimity.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-25" id="c1-25"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> +<h3>THE LAST MORNING AT RUFFORD HALL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Well, my love?" said Lady Augustus, as soon as her daughter had +joined her in her bedroom. On such occasions there was always a +quarter of an hour before going to bed in which the mother and +daughter discussed their affairs, while the two lady's maids were +discussing their affairs in the other room. The two maids probably +did not often quarrel, but the mother and daughter usually did.</p> + +<p>"I wish that stupid man hadn't got himself hurt."</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear; we all wish that. But I really don't see that it +has stood much in your way."</p> + +<p>"Yes it has. After all there is nothing like dancing, and we +shouldn't all have been sent to bed at two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Then it has come to nothing?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't say that at all, mamma. I think I have done uncommonly +well. Indeed I know I have. But then if everything had not been +upset, I might have done so much better."</p> + +<p>"What have you done?" asked Lady Augustus, timidly. She knew +perfectly well that her daughter would tell her nothing, and yet she +always asked these questions and was always angry when no information +was given to her. Any young woman would have found it very hard to +give the information needed. "When we were alone he sat for five +minutes with his arm round my waist, and then he kissed me. He didn't +say much, but then I knew perfectly well that he would be on his +guard not to commit himself by words. But I've got him to promise +that he'll write to me, and of course I'll answer in such a way that +he must write again. I know he'll want to see me, and I think I can +go very near doing it. But he's an old stager and knows what he's +about: and of course there'll be ever so many people to tell him I'm +not the sort of girl he ought to marry. He'll hear about Colonel de +<span class="nowrap">B——,</span> and Sir C. +<span class="nowrap">D——,</span> and Lord E. +<span class="nowrap">F——,</span> and there are ever so +many chances against me. But I've made up my mind to try it. It's +taking the long odds. I can hardly expect to win, but if I do pull it +off I'm made for ever!" A daughter can hardly say all that to her +mother. Even Arabella Trefoil could not say it to her mother,—or, at +any rate, she would not. "What a question that is to ask, mamma?" she +did say tossing her head.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, unless you tell me something how can I help you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I want you to help me,—at any rate not in that +way."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, you are so odd."</p> + +<p>"Has he said anything?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he has. He said he liked dry champagne and that he never ate +supper."</p> + +<p>"If you won't tell me how things are going you may fight your own +battles by yourself."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I must do. Nobody else can fight my battles for +me."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I saw him talking to you and looking as black as thunder."</p> + +<p>"He always looks as black as thunder."</p> + +<p>"Is that to be all off? I insist upon having an answer to that +question."</p> + +<p>"I believe you fancy, mamma, that a lot of men can be played like a +parcel of chessmen, and that as soon as a knight is knocked on the +head you can take him up and put him into the box and have done with +him."</p> + +<p>"You haven't done with Mr. Morton then?"</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Morton! I do feel he is badly used because he is so honest. +I sometimes wish that I could afford to be honest too and to tell +somebody the downright truth. I should like to tell him the truth and +I almost think I will. 'My dear fellow, I did for a time think I +couldn't do better, and I'm not at all sure now that I can. But then +you are so very dull, and I'm not certain that I should care to be +Queen of the English society at the Court of the Emperor of Morocco! +But if you'll wait for another six months, I shall be able to tell +you.' That's what I should have to say to him."</p> + +<p>"Who is talking nonsense now, Arabella?"</p> + +<p>"I am not. But I shan't say it. And now, mamma, I'll tell you what we +must do."</p> + +<p>"You must tell me why also."</p> + +<p>"I can do nothing of the kind. He knows the Duke." The Duke with the +Trefoils always meant the Duke of Mayfair who was Arabella's ducal +uncle.</p> + +<p>"Intimately?"</p> + +<p>"Well enough to go there. There is to be a great shooting at +Mistletoe,"—Mistletoe was the duke's place,—"in January. I got that +from him, and he can go if he likes. He won't go as it is: but if I +tell him I'm to be there, I think he will."</p> + +<p>"What did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"Well;—I told him a tarradiddle of course. I made him understand +that I could be there if I pleased, and he thinks that I mean to be +there if he goes."</p> + +<p>"But I'm sure the Duchess won't have me again."</p> + +<p>"She might let me come."</p> + +<p>"And what am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"You could go to Brighton with Miss De Groat;—or what does it matter +for a fortnight? You'll get the advantage when it's done. It's as +well to have the truth out at once, mamma,—I cannot carry on if I'm +always to be stuck close to your apron-strings. There are so many +people won't have you."</p> + +<p>"Arabella, I do think you are the most ungrateful, hard-hearted +creature that ever lived."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I don't know what I have to be grateful about, and I need +to be hard-hearted. Of course I am hard-hearted. The thing will be to +get papa to see his brother."</p> + +<p>"Your papa!"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—that's what I mean to try. The Duke, of course, would like me +to marry Lord Rufford. Do you think that if I were at home here it +wouldn't make Mistletoe a very different sort of place for you? The +Duke does like papa in a sort of way, and he's civil enough to me +when I'm there. He never did like you."</p> + +<p>"Everybody is so fond of you! It was what you did when young +Stranorlar was there which made the Duchess almost turn us out of the +house."</p> + +<p>"What's the good of your saying that, mamma? If you go on like that +I'll separate myself from you and throw myself on papa."</p> + +<p>"Your father wouldn't lift his little finger for you."</p> + +<p>"I'll try at any rate. Will you consent to my going there without you +if I can manage it?"</p> + +<p>"What did Lord Rufford say?" Arabella here made a grimace. "You can +tell me something. What are the lawyers to say to Mr. Morton's +people?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever they like."</p> + +<p>"If they come to arrangements do you mean to marry him?"</p> + +<p>"Not for the next two months certainly. I shan't see him again now +heaven knows when. He'll write no doubt,—one of his awfully sensible +letters, and I shall take my time about answering him. I can stretch +it out for two months. If I'm to do any good with this man it will be +all arranged before that time. If the Duke could really be made to +believe that Lord Rufford was in earnest I'm sure he'd have me there. +As to her, she always does what he tells her."</p> + +<p>"He is going to write to you?"</p> + +<p>"I told you that before, mamma. What is the good of asking a lot of +questions? You know now what my plan is, and if you won't help me I +must carry it out alone. And, remember, I don't want to start +to-morrow till after Morton and that American have gone." Then +without a kiss or wishing her mother good night she went off to her +own room.</p> + +<p>The next morning at about nine Arabella heard from her maid that the +Major was still alive but senseless. The London surgeon had been +there and had declared it to be possible that the patient should +live,—but barely possible. At ten they were all at breakfast, and +the carriage from Bragton was already at the door to take back Mr. +Morton and his American friend. Lady Augustus had been clever enough +to arrange that she should have the phaeton to take her to the +Rufford Station a little later on in the day, and had already hinted +to one of the servants that perhaps a cart might be sent with the +luggage. The cart was forthcoming. Lady Augustus was very clever in +arranging her locomotion and seldom paid for much more than her +railway tickets.</p> + +<p>"I had meant to say a few words to you, my lord, about that man +Goarly," said the Senator, standing before the fire in the +breakfast-room, "but this sad catastrophe has stopped me."</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to say about him, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not; only I would not wish you to think that I would oppose +you without some cause. If the man is in the wrong according to law +let him be proved to be so. The cost to you will be nothing. To him +it might be of considerable importance."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Won't you sit down and have some breakfast? If Goarly ever +makes himself nuisance enough it may be worth my while to buy him out +at three times the value of his land. But he'll have to be a very +great nuisance before I shall do that. Dillsborough wood is not the +only fox covert in the county." After that there was no more said +about it; but neither did Lord Rufford understand the Senator nor did +the Senator understand Lord Rufford. John Runce had a clearer +conviction on his mind than either of them. Goarly ought to be +hanged, and no American should, under any circumstances be allowed to +put his foot upon British soil. That was Runce's idea of the matter.</p> + +<p>The parting between Morton and the Trefoils was very chill and +uncomfortable. "Good-bye, Mr. Morton;—we had such a pleasant time at +Bragton!" said Lady Augustus. "I shall write to you this afternoon," +he whispered to Arabella as he took her hand. She smiled and murmured +a word of adieu, but made him no reply. Then they were gone, and as +he got into the carriage he told himself that in all probability he +would never see her again. It might be that he would curtail his +leave of absence and get back to Washington as quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>The Trefoils did not start for an hour after this, during which +Arabella could hardly find an opportunity for a word in private. She +could not quite appeal to him to walk with her in the grounds, or +even to take a turn with her round the empty ball-room She came down +dressed for walking, thinking that so she might have the best chance +of getting him for a quarter of an hour to herself, but he was either +too wary or else the habits of his life prevented it. And in what she +had to do it was so easy to go beyond the proper line! She would wish +him to understand that she would like to be alone with him after what +had passed between them on the previous evening,—but she must be +careful not to let him imagine that she was too anxious. And then +whatever she did she had to do with so many eyes upon her! And when +she went, as she would do now in so short a time, so many hostile +tongues would attack her! He had everything to protect him;—and she +had nothing, absolutely nothing, to help her! It was thus that she +looked at it; and yet she had courage for the battle. Almost at the +last moment she did get a word with him in the hall. "How is he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, better, decidedly."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad. If I could only think that he could live! Well, my +Lord, we have to say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"You'll write me a line,—about him."</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"I shall be so glad to have a line from Rufford. Maddox Hall, you +know; Stafford."</p> + +<p>"I will remember."</p> + +<p>"And dear old Jack. Tell me when you write what Jack has been doing." +Then she put out her hand and he held it. "I wonder whether you will +ever <span class="nowrap">remember—"</span> But +she did not quite know what to bid him remember, +and therefore turned away her face and wiped away a tear, and then +smiled as she turned her back on him. The carriage was at the door, +and the ladies flocked into the hall, and then not another word could +be said.</p> + +<p>"That's what I call a really nice country house," said Lady Augustus +as she was driven away. Arabella sat back in the phaeton lost in +thought and said nothing. "Everything so well done, and yet none of +all that fuss that there is at Mistletoe." She paused but still her +daughter did not speak. "If I were beginning the world again I would +not wish for a better establishment than that. Why can't you answer +me a word when I speak to you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it's all very nice. What's the good of going on in that +way? What a shame it is that a man like that should have so much and +that a girl like me should have nothing at all. I know twice as much +as he does, and am twice as clever, and yet I've got to treat him as +though he were a god. He's all very well, but what would anybody +think of him if he were a younger brother with £300 a year." This was +a kind of philosophy which Lady Augustus hated. She threw herself +back therefore in the phaeton and pretended to go to sleep.</p> + +<p>The wheels were not out of sight of the house before the attack on +the Trefoils began. "I had heard of Lady Augustus before," said Lady +Penwether, "but I didn't think that any woman could be so +disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"So vulgar," said Miss Penge.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't she the daughter of an ironmonger?" asked the elder Miss +Godolphin.</p> + +<p>"The girl of course is handsome," said Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"But so self-sufficient," said Miss Godolphin.</p> + +<p>"And almost as vulgar as her mother," said Miss Penge.</p> + +<p>"She may be clever," said Lady Penwether, "but I do not think I +should ever like her."</p> + +<p>"She is one of those girls whom only gentlemen like," said Miss +Penge.</p> + +<p>"And whom they don't like very long," said Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"How well I understand all this," said Lord Rufford turning to the +younger Miss Godolphin. "It is all said for my benefit, and +considered to be necessary because I danced with the young lady last +night."</p> + +<p>"I hope you are not attributing such a motive to me," said Miss +Penge.</p> + +<p>"Or to me," said Miss Godolphin.</p> + +<p>"I look on both of you and Eleanor as all one on the present +occasion. I am considered to be falling over a precipice, and she has +got hold of my coat tails. Of course you wouldn't be Christians if +you didn't both of you seize a foot."</p> + +<p>"Looking at it in that light I certainly wish to be understood as +holding on very fast," said Miss Penge.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-26" id="c1-26"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> +<h3>GIVE ME SIX MONTHS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>There was a great deal of trouble and some very genuine sorrow in the +attorney's house at Dillsborough during the first week in December. +Mr. Masters had declared to his wife that Mary should go to +Cheltenham and a letter was written to Lady Ushant accepting the +invitation. The £20 too was forthcoming and the dress and the boots +and the hat were bought. But while this was going on Mrs. Masters +took care that there should be no comfort whatever around them and +made every meal a separate curse to the unfortunate lawyer. She told +him ten times a day that she had been a mother to his daughter, but +declared that such a position was no longer possible to her as the +girl had been taken altogether out of her hands. To Mary she hardly +spoke at all and made her thoroughly wish that Lady Ushant's kindness +had been declined. "Mamma," she said one day, "I had rather write now +and tell her that I cannot come."</p> + +<p>"After all the money has been wasted!"</p> + +<p>"I have only got things that I must have had very soon."</p> + +<p>"If you have got anything to say you had better talk to your father. +I know nothing about it."</p> + +<p>"You break my heart when you say that, mamma."</p> + +<p>"You think nothing about breaking mine;—or that young man's who is +behaving so well to you. What makes me mad is to see you +shilly-shallying with him."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, I haven't shilly-shallied."</p> + +<p>"That's what I call it. Why can't you speak him fair and tell him +you'll have him and settle yourself down properly? You've got some +idea into your silly head that what you call a gentleman will come +after you."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, that isn't fair."</p> + +<p>"Very well, miss. As your father takes your part of course you can +say what you please to me. I say it is so." Mary knew very well what +her mother meant and was safe at least from any allusion to Reginald +Morton. There was an idea prevalent in the house, and not without +some cause, that Mr. Surtees the curate had looked with an eye of +favour on Mary Masters. Mr. Surtees was certainly a gentleman, but +his income was strictly limited to the sum of £120 per annum which he +received from Mr. Mainwaring. Now Mrs. Masters disliked clergymen, +disliked gentlemen, and especially disliked poverty; and therefore +was not disposed to look upon Mr. Surtees as an eligible suitor for +her stepdaughter. But as the curate's courtship had hitherto been of +the coldest kind and as it had received no encouragement from the +young lady, Mary was certainly justified in declaring that the +allusion was not fair. "What I want to know is this;—are you +prepared to marry Lawrence Twentyman?" To this question, as Mary +could not give a favourable answer, she thought it best to make none +at all. "There is a man as has got a house fit for any woman, and +means to keep it; who can give a young woman everything that she +ought to want;—and a handsome fellow too, with some life in him; one +who really dotes on you,—as men don't often do on young women now as +far as I can see. I wonder what it is you would have?"</p> + +<p>"I want nothing, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Yes you do. You have been reading books of poetry till you don't +know what it is you do want. You've got your head full of claptraps +and tantrums till you haven't a grain of sense belonging to you. I +hate such ways. It's a spurning of the gifts of Providence not to +have such a man as Lawrence Twentyman when he comes in your way. Who +are you, I wonder, that you shouldn't be contented with such as him? +He'll go and take some one else and then you'll be fit to break your +heart, fretting after him, and I shan't pity you a bit. It'll serve +you right and you'll die an old maid, and what there will be for you +to live upon God in heaven only knows. You're breaking your father's +heart, as it is." Then she sat down in a rocking-chair and throwing +her apron over her eyes gave herself up to a deluge of hysterical +tears.</p> + +<p>This was very hard upon Mary for though she did not believe all the +horrible things which her stepmother said to her she did believe some +of them. She was not afraid of the fate of an old maid which was +threatened, but she did think that her marriage with this man would +be for the benefit of the family and a great relief to her father. +And she knew too that he was respectable, and believed him to be +thoroughly earnest in his love. For such love as that it is +impossible that a girl should not be grateful. There was nothing to +allure him, nothing to tempt him to such a marriage, but a simple +appreciation of her personal merits. And in life he was at any rate +her equal. She had told Reginald Morton that Larry Twentyman was a +fit companion for her and for her sisters, and she owned as much to +herself every day. When she acknowledged all this she was tempted to +ask herself whether she ought not to accept the man,—if not for her +own sake at least for that of the family.</p> + +<p>That same evening her father called her into the office after the +clerks were gone and spoke to her thus. "Your mamma is very unhappy, +my dear," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I have made everybody unhappy by wanting to go to +Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>"It is not only that. That is reasonable enough and you ought to go. +Mamma would say nothing more about that,—if you would make up your +mind to one thing."</p> + +<p>"What thing, papa?" Of course she knew very well what the thing was.</p> + +<p>"It is time for you to think of settling in life, Mary. I never would +put it into a girl's head that she ought to worry herself about +getting a husband unless the opportunity seemed to come in her way. +Young women should be quiet and wait till they're sought after. But +here is a young man seeking you whom we all like and approve. A good +house is a very good thing when it's fairly come by."</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"And so is a full house. A girl shouldn't run after money, but plenty +is a great comfort in this world when it can be had without blushing +for."</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"And so is an honest man's love. I don't like to see any girl +wearying after some fellow to be always fal-lalling with her. A good +girl will be able to be happy and contented without that. But a lone +life is a poor life, and a good husband is about the best blessing +that a young woman can have." To this proposition Mary perhaps agreed +in her own mind but she gave no spoken assent. "Now this young man +that is wanting to marry you has got all these things, and as far as +I can judge with my experience in the world, is as likely to make a +good husband as any one I know." He paused for an answer but Mary +could only lean close upon his arm and be silent. "Have you anything +to say about it, my dear? You see it has been going on now a long +time, and of course he'll look to have it decided." But still she +could say nothing. "Well, now;—he has been with me to-day."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Twentyman?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—Mr. Twentyman. He knows you're going to Cheltenham and of +course he has nothing to say against that. No young man such as he +would be sorry that his sweetheart should be entertained by such a +lady as Lady Ushant. But he says that he wants to have an answer +before you go."</p> + +<p>"I did answer him, papa."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—you refused him. But he hopes that perhaps you may think +better of it. He has been with me and I have told him that if he will +come to-morrow you will see him. He is to be here after dinner and +you had better just take him up-stairs and hear what he has to say. +If you can make up your mind to like him you will please all your +family. But if you can't,—I won't quarrel with you, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh papa, you are always so good."</p> + +<p>"Of course I am anxious that you should have a home of your own;—but +let it be how it may I will not quarrel with my child."</p> + +<p>All that evening, and almost all the night, and again on the +following morning Mary turned it over in her mind. She was quite sure +that she was not in love with Larry Twentyman; but she was by no +means sure that it might not be her duty to accept him without being +in love with him. Of course he must know the whole truth; but she +could tell him the truth and then leave it for him to decide. What +right had she to stand in the way of her friends, or to be a burden +to them when such a mode of life was offered to her? She had nothing +of her own, and regarded herself as being a dead weight on the +family. And she was conscious in a certain degree of isolation in the +household,—as being her father's only child by the first marriage. +She would hardly know how to look her father in the face and tell him +that she had again refused the man. But yet there was something awful +to her in the idea of giving herself to a man without loving him,—in +becoming a man's wife when she would fain remain away from him! Would +it be possible that she should live with him while her feelings were +of such a nature? And then she blushed as she lay in the dark, with +her cheek on her pillow, when she found herself forced to inquire +within her own heart whether she did not love some one else. She +would not own it, and yet she blushed, and yet she thought of it. If +there might be such a man it was not the young clergyman to whom her +mother had alluded.</p> + +<p>Through all that morning she was very quiet, very pale, and in truth +very unhappy. Her father said no further word to her, and her +stepmother had been implored to be equally reticent. "I shan't speak +another word," said Mrs. Masters; "her fortune is in her own hands +and if she don't choose to take it I've done with her. One man may +lead a horse to water but a hundred can't make him drink. It's just +the same with an obstinate pig-headed young woman."</p> + +<p>At three o'clock Mr. Twentyman came and was at once desired to go up +to Mary who was waiting for him in the drawing-room. Mrs. Masters +smiled and was gracious as she spoke to him, having for the moment +wreathed herself in good humour so that he might go to his wooing in +better spirit. He had learned his lesson by heart as nearly as he was +able and began to recite it as soon as he had closed the door. "So +you're going to Cheltenham on Thursday?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll enjoy your visit there. I remember Lady Ushant myself +very well. I don't suppose she will remember me, but you can give her +my compliments."</p> + +<p>"I certainly will do that."</p> + +<p>"And now, Mary, what have you got to say to me?" He looked for a +moment as though he expected she would say what she had to say at +once,—without further question from him; but he knew that it could +not be so and he had prepared his lesson further than that. "I think +you must believe that I really do love you with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"I know that you are very good to me, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"I don't say anything about being good; but I'm true:—that I am. I'd +take you for my wife to-morrow if you hadn't a friend in the world, +just for downright love. I've got you so in my heart, Mary, that I +couldn't get rid of you if I tried ever so. You must know that it's +true."</p> + +<p>"I do know that it's true."</p> + +<p>"Well! Don't you think that a fellow like that deserves something +from a girl?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do."</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"He deserves a great deal too much for any girl to deceive him. You +wouldn't like a young woman to marry you without loving you. I think +you deserve a great deal too well of me for that."</p> + +<p>He paused a moment before he replied. "I don't know about that," he +said at last. "I believe I should be glad to take you just anyhow. I +don't think you can hate me."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I like you as well, Mr. Twentyman, as one friend can +like another,—without loving."</p> + +<p>"I'll be content with that, Mary, and chance it for the rest. I'll be +that kind to you that I'll make you love me before twelve months are +over. You come and try. You shall be mistress of everything. Mother +isn't one that will want to be in the way."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that, Larry," she said.</p> + +<p>She hadn't called him Larry for a long time and the sound of his own +name from her lips gave him infinite hope. "Come and try. Say you'll +try. If ever a man did his best to please a woman I'll do it to +please you." Then he attempted to take her in his arms but she glided +away from him round the table. "I won't ask you not to go to +Cheltenham, or anything of that. You shall have your own time. By +George you shall have everything your own way." Still she did not +answer him but stood looking down upon the table. "Come;—say a word +to a fellow."</p> + +<p>Then at last she spoke—"Give me—six months to think of it."</p> + +<p>"Six months! If you'd say six weeks."</p> + +<p>"It is such a serious thing to do."</p> + +<p>"It is serious, of course. I'm serious, I know. I shouldn't hunt +above half as often as I do now; and as for the club,—I don't +suppose I should go near the place once a month. Say six weeks, and +then, if you'll let me have one kiss, I'll not trouble you till +you're back from Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>Mary at once perceived that he had taken her doubt almost as a +complete surrender, and had again to become obdurate. At last she +promised to give him a final answer in two months, but declared as +she said so that she was afraid she could not bring herself to do as +he desired. She declined altogether to comply with that other request +which he made, and then left him in the room declaring that at +present she could say nothing further. As she did so she felt sure +that she would not be able to accept him in two months' time whatever +she might bring herself to do when the vast abyss of six months +should have passed by.</p> + +<p>Larry made his way down into the parlour with hopes considerably +raised. There he found Mrs. Masters and when he told her what had +passed she assured him that the thing was as good as settled. +Everybody knew, she said, that when a girl doubted she meant to +yield. And what were two months? The time would have nearly gone by +the end of her visit to Cheltenham. It was now early in December, and +they might be married and settled at home before the end of April. +Mrs. Masters, to give him courage, took out a bottle of currant wine +and drank his health, and told him that in three months' time she +would give him a kiss and call him her son. And she believed what she +said. This, she thought, was merely Mary's way of letting herself +down without a sudden fall.</p> + +<p>Then the attorney came in and also congratulated him. When the +attorney was told that Mary had taken two months for her decision he +also felt that the matter was almost as good as settled. This at any +rate was clear to him,—that the existing misery of his household +would for the present cease, and that Mary would be allowed to go +upon her visit without further opposition. He at present did not +think it wise to say another word to Mary about the young man;—nor +would Mrs. Masters condescend to do so. Mary would of course now +accept her lover like any other girl, and had been such a fool,—so +thought Mrs. Masters,—that she had thoroughly deserved to lose him.</p> + + +<p><a name="c1-27" id="c1-27"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> +<h3>"WONDERFUL BIRD!"<br /> </h3> + + +<p>There were but two days between the scenes described in the last +chapter and the day fixed for Mary's departure, and during these two +days Larry Twentyman's name was not mentioned in the house. Mrs. +Masters did not make herself quite pleasant to her stepdaughter, +having still some grudge against her as to the £20. Nor, though she +had submitted to the visit to Cheltenham, did she approve of it. It +wasn't the way, she said, to make such a girl as Mary like her life +at Chowton Farm, going and sitting and doing nothing in old Lady +Ushant's drawing-room. It was cocking her up with gimcrack notions +about ladies till she'd be ashamed to look at her own hands after she +had done a day's work with them. There was no doubt some truth in +this. The woman understood the world and was able to measure Larry +Twentyman and Lady Ushant and the rest of them. Books and pretty +needlework and easy conversation would consume the time at +Cheltenham, whereas at Chowton Farm there would be a dairy and a +poultry yard,—under difficulties on account of the foxes,—with a +prospect of baby linen and children's shoes and stockings. It was all +that question of gentlemen and ladies, and of non-gentlemen and +non-ladies! They ought, Mrs. Masters thought, to be kept distinct. +She had never, she said, wanted to put her finger into a pie that +didn't belong to her. She had never tried to be a grand lady. But +Mary was perilously near the brink on either side, and as it was to +be her lucky fate at last to sit down to a plentiful but work-a-day +life at Chowton Farm she ought to have been kept away from the +maundering idleness of Lady Ushant's lodgings at Cheltenham. But Mary +heard nothing of this during these two days, Mrs. Masters bestowing +the load of her wisdom upon her unfortunate husband.</p> + +<p>Reginald Morton had been twice over at Mrs. Masters' house with +reference to the proposed journey. Mrs. Masters was hardly civil to +him, as he was supposed to be among the enemies;—but she had no +suspicion that he himself was the enemy of enemies. Had she +entertained such an idea she might have reconciled herself to it, as +the man was able to support a wife, and by such a marriage she would +have been at once relieved from all further charge. In her own mind +she would have felt very strongly that Mary had chosen the wrong man, +and thrown herself into the inferior mode of life. But her own +difficulties in the matter would have been solved. There was, +however, no dream of such a kind entertained by any of the family. +Reginald Morton was hardly regarded as a young man, and was supposed +to be gloomy, misanthropic, and bookish. Mrs. Masters was not at all +averse to the companionship for the journey, and Mr. Masters was +really grateful to one of the old family for being kind to his girl.</p> + +<p>Nor must it be supposed that Mary herself had any expectations or +even any hopes. With juvenile aptness to make much of the little +things which had interested her, and prone to think more than was +reasonable of any intercourse with a man who seemed to her to be so +superior to others as Reginald Morton, she was anxious for an +opportunity to set herself right with him about that scene at the +bridge. She still thought that he was offended and that she had given +him cause for offence. He had condescended to make her a request to +which she had acceded,—and she had then not done as she had +promised. She thought she was sure that this was all she had to say +to him, and yet she was aware that she was unnaturally excited at the +idea of spending three or four hours alone with him. The fly which +was to take him to the railway station called for Mary at the +attorney's door at ten o'clock, and the attorney handed her in. "It +is very good of you indeed, Mr. Morton, to take so much trouble with +my girl," said the attorney, really feeling what he said. "It is very +good of you to trust her to me," said Reginald, also sincerely. Mary +was still to him the girl who had been brought up by his aunt at +Bragton, and not the fit companion for Larry Twentyman.</p> + +<p>Reginald Morton had certainly not made up his mind to ask Mary +Masters to be his wife. Thinking of Mary Masters very often as he had +done during the last two months, he was quite sure that he did not +mean to marry at all. He did acknowledge to himself that were he to +allow himself to fall in love with any one it would be with Mary +Masters,—but for not doing so there were many reasons. He had lived +so long alone that a married life would not suit him; as a married +man he would be a poor man; he himself was averse to company, whereas +most women prefer society. And then, as to this special girl, had he +not reason for supposing that she preferred another man to him, and a +man of such a class that the very preference showed her to be unfit +to mate with him? He also cozened himself with an idea that it was +well that he should have the opportunity which the journey would give +him of apologising for his previous rudeness to her.</p> + +<p>In the carriage they had the compartment to themselves with the +exception of an old lady at the further end who had a parrot in a +cage for which she had taken a first-class ticket. "I can't offer you +this seat," said the old lady, "because it has been booked and paid +for for my bird." As neither of the new passengers had shown the +slightest wish for the seat the communication was perhaps +unnecessary. Neither of the two had any idea of separating from the +other for the sake of the old lady's company.</p> + +<p>They had before them a journey of thirty miles on one railway, then a +stop of half an hour at the Hinxton Junction; and then another +journey of about equal length. In the first hour very little was said +that might not have been said in the presence of Lady Ushant,—or +even of Mrs. Masters. There might be a question whether, upon the +whole, the parrot had not the best of the conversation, as the bird, +which the old lady declared to be the wonder of his species, repeated +the last word of nearly every sentence spoken either by our friends +or by the old lady herself. "Don't you think you'd be less liable to +cold with that window closed?" the old lady said to Mary. +"Cosed,—cosed,—cosed," said the bird, and Morton was of course +constrained to shut the window. "He is a wonderful bird," said the +old lady. "Wonderful bird;—wonderful bird;—wonderful bird," said +the parrot, who was quite at home with this expression. "We shall be +able to get some lunch at Hinxton," said Reginald. "Inxton," screamed +the bird—"Caw,—caw—caw." "He's worth a deal of money," said the +old lady. "Deal o' money, Deal o' money," repeated the bird as he +scrambled round the wire cage with a tremendous noise, to the great +triumph of the old lady.</p> + +<p>No doubt the close attention which the bird paid to everything that +passed, and the presence of the old lady as well, did for a time +interfere with their conversation. But, after awhile, the old lady +was asleep, and the bird, having once or twice attempted to imitate +the somnolent sounds which his mistress was making, seemed also to go +to sleep himself. Then Reginald, beginning with Lady Ushant and the +old Morton family generally, gradually got the conversation round to +Bragton and the little bridge. He had been very stern when he had +left her there, and he knew also that at that subsequent interview, +when he had brought Lady Ushant's note to her at her father's house, +he had not been cordially kind to her. Now they were thrown together +for an hour or so in the closest companionship, and he wished to make +her comfortable and happy. "I suppose you remember Bragton?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Every path and almost every tree about the place."</p> + +<p>"So do I. I called there the other day. Family quarrels are so silly, +you know."</p> + +<p>"Did you see Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"No;—and he hasn't returned my visit yet. I don't know whether he +will,—and I don't much mind whether he does or not. That old woman +is there, and she is very bitter against me. I don't care about the +people, but I am sorry that I cannot see the place."</p> + +<p>"I ought to have walked with you that day," she said in a very low +tone. The parrot opened his eyes and looked at them as though he were +striving to catch his cue.</p> + +<p>"Of course you ought." But as he said this he smiled and there was no +offence in his voice. "I dare say you didn't guess how much I thought +of it. And then I was a bear to you. I always am a bear when I am not +pleased."</p> + +<p>"Peas, peas, peas," said the parrot.</p> + +<p>"I shall be a bear to that brute of a bird before long."</p> + +<p>"What a very queer bird he is."</p> + +<p>"He is a public nuisance,—and so is the old lady who brought him +here." This was said quite in a whisper. "It is very odd, Miss +Masters, but you are literally the only person in all Dillsborough in +regard to whom I have any genuine feeling of old friendship."</p> + +<p>"You must remember a great many."</p> + +<p>"But I did not know any well enough. I was too young to have seen +much of your father. But when I came back at that time you and I were +always together."</p> + +<p>"Gedder, gedder, gedder," said the parrot.</p> + +<p>"If that bird goes on like that I'll speak to the guard," said Mr. +Morton with affected anger.</p> + +<p>"Polly mustn't talk," said the old lady waking up.</p> + +<p>"Tok, tok, tok, tok," screamed the parrot. Then the old lady threw a +shawl over him and again went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"If I behaved badly I beg your pardon," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I wanted to say to you, Miss Masters,—only a man +never can do those things as well as a lady. I did behave badly, and +I do beg your pardon. Of course I ought to have asked Mr. Twentyman +to come with us. I know that he is a very good fellow."</p> + +<p>"Indeed he is," said Mary Masters, with all the emphasis in her +power. "Deedy is, deedy is, deedy is, deedy is," repeated the parrot +in a very angry voice about a dozen times under his shawl, and while +the old lady was remonstrating with her too talkative companion their +tickets were taken and they ran into the Hinxton Station. "If the old +lady is going on to Cheltenham we'll travel third class before we'll +sit in the same carriage again with that bird," said Morton laughing +as he took Mary into the refreshment-room. But the old lady did not +get into the same compartment as they started, and the last that was +heard of the parrot at Hinxton was a quarrel between him and the +guard as to certain railway privileges.</p> + +<p>When they had got back into the railway carriage Morton was very +anxious to ask whether she was in truth engaged to marry the young +man as to whose good fellowship she and the parrot had spoken up so +emphatically, but he hardly knew how to put the question. And were +she to declare that she was engaged to him, what should he say then? +Would he not be bound to congratulate her? And yet it would be +impossible that any word of such congratulation should pass his lips. +"You will stay a month at Cheltenham?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Your aunt was kind enough to ask me for so long."</p> + +<p>"I shall go back on Saturday. If I were to stay longer I should feel +myself to be in her way. And I have come to live a sort of hermit's +life. I hardly know how to sit down and eat my dinner in company, and +have no idea of seeing a human being before two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"What do you do with yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I rush in and out of the garden and spend my time between my books +and my flowers and my tobacco pipes."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to live always like that?" she asked,—in perfect +innocency.</p> + +<p>"I think so. Sometimes I doubt whether it's wise."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it wise at all," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"People should live together, I think."</p> + +<p>"You mean that I ought to have a wife?"</p> + +<p>"No;—I didn't mean that. Of course that must be just as you might +come to like any one well enough. But a person need not shut himself +up and be a hermit because he is not married. Lord Rufford is not +married and he goes everywhere."</p> + +<p>"He has money and property and is a man of pleasure."</p> + +<p>"And your cousin, Mr. John Morton."</p> + +<p>"He is essentially a man of business, which I never could have been. +And they say he is going to be married to that Miss Trefoil who has +been staying there. Unfortunately I have never had anything that I +need do in all my life, and therefore I have shut myself up as you +call it. I wonder what your life will be." Mary blushed and said +nothing. "If there were anything to tell I wish I knew it."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing to tell."</p> + +<p>"Nothing?"</p> + +<p>She thought a moment before she answered him and then she said, +"Nothing. What should I have to tell?" she added trying to laugh.</p> + +<p>He remained for a few minutes silent, and then put his head out +towards her as he spoke. "I was afraid that you might have to tell +that you were engaged to marry Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"I am not."</p> + +<p>"Oh!—I am so glad to hear it."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you should be glad. If I had said I was, it would +have been very uncivil if you hadn't declared yourself glad to hear +that."</p> + +<p>"Then I must have been uncivil for I couldn't have done it. Knowing +how my aunt loves you, knowing what she thinks of you and what she +would think of such a match, remembering myself what I do of you, I +could not have congratulated you on your engagement to a man whom I +think so much inferior to yourself in every respect. Now you know it +all,—why I was angry at the bridge, why I was hardly civil to you at +your father's house; and, to tell the truth, why I have been so +anxious to be alone with you for half an hour. If you think it an +offence that I should take so much interest in you, I will beg your +pardon for that also."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"I have never spoken to my aunt about it, but I do not think that she +would have been contented to hear that you were to become the wife of +Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>What answer she was to make to this or whether she was to make any +she had not decided when they were interrupted by the reappearance of +the old lady and the bird. She was declaring to the guard at the +window, that as she had paid for a first-class seat for her parrot +she would get into any carriage she liked in which there were two +empty seats. Her bird had been ill-treated by some scurrilous +ill-conditioned travellers and she had therefore returned to the +comparative kindness of her former companions. "They threatened to +put him out of the window, sir," said the old woman to Morton as she +was forcing her way in.</p> + +<p>"Windersir, windersir," said the parrot.</p> + +<p>"I hope he'll behave himself here, ma'am," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"Heremam, heremam, heremam," said the parrot.</p> + +<p>"Now go to bed like a good bird," said the old lady putting her shawl +over the cage,—whereupon the parrot made a more diabolical noise +than ever under the curtain.</p> + +<p>Mary felt that there was no more to be said about Mr. Twentyman and +her hopes and prospects, and for the moment she was glad to be left +in peace. The old lady and the parrot continued their conversation +till they had all arrived in Cheltenham;—and Mary as she sat alone +thinking of it afterwards might perhaps feel a soft regret that +Reginald Morton had been interrupted by the talkative animal.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> + +<p><a name="c2-1" id="c2-1"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>VOLUME II.</h3> +<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> +<h3>MOUNSER GREEN.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"So Peter Boyd is to go to Washington in the Paragon's place, and +Jack Slade goes to Vienna, and young Palliser is to get Slade's berth +at Lisbon." This information was given by a handsome man, known as +Mounser Green, about six feet high, wearing a velvet shooting +coat,—more properly called an office coat from its present +uses,—who had just entered a spacious well-carpeted comfortable room +in which three other gentlemen were sitting at their different +tables. This was one of the rooms in the Foreign Office and looked +out into St. James's Park. Mounser Green was a distinguished clerk in +that department,—and distinguished also in various ways, being one +of the fashionable men about town, a great adept at private +theatricals, remarkable as a billiard player at his club, and a +contributor to various magazines. At this moment he had a cigar in +his mouth, and when he entered the room he stood with his back to the +fire ready for conversation and looking very unlike a clerk who +intended to do any work. But there was a general idea that Mounser +Green was invaluable to the Foreign Office. He could speak and write +two or three foreign languages; he could do a spurt of work,—ten +hours at a sitting when required; he was ready to go through fire and +water for his chief; and was a gentleman all round. Though still +nominally a young man,—being perhaps thirty-five years of age—he +had entered the service before competitive examination had assumed +its present shape and had therefore the gifts which were required for +his special position. Some critics on the Civil Service were no doubt +apt to find fault with Mounser Green. When called upon at his office +he was never seen to be doing anything, and he always had a cigar in +his mouth. These gentlemen found out too that he never entered his +office till half-past twelve, perhaps not having also learned that he +was generally there till nearly seven. No doubt during the time that +he remained there he read a great many newspapers, and wrote a great +many private notes,—on official paper! But there may be a question +whether even these employments did not help to make Mounser Green the +valuable man he was.</p> + +<p>"What a lounge for Jack Slade," said young Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you who it won't be a lounge for, Green," said Archibald +Currie, the clerk who held the second authority among them. "What +will Bell Trefoil think of going to Patagonia?"</p> + +<p>"That's all off," said Mounser Green.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Charley Glossop, one of the numerous younger +sons of Lord Glossop. "She was staying only the other day down at the +Paragon's place in Rufford, and they went together to my cousin +Rufford's house. His sister,—that's Lady Penwether, told me they +were certainly engaged then."</p> + +<p>"That was before the Paragon had been named for Patagonia. To tell +you a little bit of my own private mind,—which isn't scandal," said +Mounser Green, "because it is only given as opinion,—I think it just +possible that the Paragon has taken this very uncomfortable mission +because it offered him some chance of escape."</p> + +<p>"Then he has more sense about him than I gave him credit for," said +Archibald Currie.</p> + +<p>"Why should a man like Morton go to Patagonia?" continued Green. "He +has an independent fortune and doesn't want the money. He'd have been +sure to have something comfortable in Europe very soon if he had +waited, and was much better off as second at a place like Washington. +I was quite surprised when he took it."</p> + +<p>"Patagonia isn't bad at all," said Currie.</p> + +<p>"That depends on whether a man has got money of his own. When I heard +about the Paragon and Bell Trefoil at Washington, I knew there had +been a mistake made. He didn't know what he was doing. I'm a poor +man, but I wouldn't take her with £5,000 a year, settled on myself." +Poor Mounser Green!</p> + +<p>"I think she's the handsomest girl in London," said Hoffmann, who was +a young man of German parentage and perhaps of German taste.</p> + +<p>"That may be," continued Green;—"but, heaven and earth! what a life +she would lead a man like the Paragon! He's found it out, and +therefore thought it well to go to South America. She has declined +already, I'm told; but he means to stick to the mission." During all +this time Mounser Green was smoking his cigar with his back to the +fire, and the other clerks looked as though they had nothing to do +but talk about the private affairs of ministers abroad and their +friends. Of course it will be understood that since we last saw John +Morton the position of Minister Plenipotentiary at Patagonia had been +offered to him and that he had accepted the place in spite of Bragton +and of Arabella Trefoil.</p> + +<p>At that moment a card was handed to Mounser Green by a messenger who +was desired to show the gentleman up. "It's the Paragon himself," +said Green.</p> + +<p>"We'll make him tell us whether he's going out single or double," +said Archibald Currie.</p> + +<p>"After what the Rufford people said to me I'm sure he's going to +marry her," said young Glossop. No doubt Lady Penwether had been +anxious to make it understood by every one connected with the family +that if any gossip should be heard about Rufford and Arabella Trefoil +there was nothing in it.</p> + +<p>Then the Paragon was shown into the room and Mounser Green and the +young men were delighted to see him. Colonial governors at their +seats of government, and Ministers Plenipotentiary in their +ambassadorial residences are very great persons indeed; and when met +in society at home, with the stars and ribbons which are common among +them now, they are less indeed, but still something. But at the +colonial and foreign offices in London, among the assistant +secretaries and clerks, they are hardly more than common men. All the +gingerbread is gone there. His Excellency is no more than Jones, and +the Representative or Alter Ego of Royalty mildly asks little favours +of the junior clerks.</p> + +<p>"Lord Drummond only wants to know what you wish and it shall be +done," said Mounser Green. Lord Drummond was the Minister for Foreign +Affairs of the day. "I hope I need hardly say that we were delighted +that you accepted the offer."</p> + +<p>"One doesn't like to refuse a step upward," said Morton; "otherwise +Patagonia isn't exactly the place one would like."</p> + +<p>"Very good climate," said Currie. "Ladies I have known who have gone +there have enjoyed it very much."</p> + +<p>"A little rough I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"They didn't seem to say so. Young Bartletot took his wife out +there,—just married. He liked it. There wasn't much society, but +they didn't care about that just at first."</p> + +<p>"Ah;—I'm a single man," said Morton laughing. He was too good a +diplomate to be pumped in that simple way by such a one as Archibald +Currie.</p> + +<p>"You'll like to see Lord Drummond. He is here and will be glad to +shake hands with you. Come into my room." Then Mounser Green led the +way into a small inner sanctum in which it may be presumed that he +really did his work. It was here at any rate that he wrote the notes +on official note paper.</p> + +<p>"They haven't settled as yet how they're to be off it," said Currie +in a whisper, as soon as the two men were gone, "but I'll bet a +five-pound note that Bell Trefoil doesn't go out to Patagonia as his +wife."</p> + +<p>"We know the Senator here well enough." This was said in the inner +room by Mounser Green to Morton, who had breakfasted with the Senator +that morning and had made an appointment to meet him at the Foreign +Office. The Senator wanted to secure a seat for himself at the +opening of Parliament which was appointed to take place in the course +of the next month, and being a member of the Committee on Foreign +Affairs in the American Senate of course thought himself entitled to +have things done for him by the Foreign Office clerks. "Oh yes, I'll +see him. Lord Drummond will get him a seat as a matter of course. How +is he getting on with your neighbour at Dillsborough?"</p> + +<p>"So you've heard of that."</p> + +<p>"Heard of it! who hasn't heard of it?"—At this moment the messenger +came in again and the Senator was announced. "Lord Drummond will +manage about the seats in the House of Lords, Mr. Gotobed. Of course +he'll see you if you wish it; but I'll take a note of it."</p> + +<p>"If you'll do that, Mr. Green, I shall be fixed up straight. And I'd +a great deal sooner see you than his lordship."</p> + +<p>"That's very flattering, Mr. Gotobed, but I'm sure I don't know why."</p> + +<p>"Because Lord Drummond always seems to me to have more on hand than +he knows how to get through, and you never seem to have anything to +do."</p> + +<p>"That's not quite so flattering,—and would be killing, only that I +feel that your opinion is founded on error. Mens conscia recti, Mr. +Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. I understand English pretty well;—better, as far as I can +see than some of those I meet around me here; but I don't go beyond +that, Mr. Green."</p> + +<p>"I merely meant to observe, Mr. Gotobed, that as, within my own +breast, I am conscious of my zeal and diligence in Her Majesty's +service your shafts of satire pass me by without hurting me. Shall I +offer you a cigar? A candle burned at both ends is soon consumed." It +was quite clear that as quickly as the Senator got through one end of +his cigar by the usual process of burning, so quickly did he eat the +other end. But he took that which Mounser Green offered him without +any displeasure at the allusion. "I'm sorry to say that I haven't a +spittoon," said Mounser Green, "but the whole fire-place is at your +service." The Senator could hardly have heard this, as it made no +difference in his practice.</p> + +<p>Morton at this moment was sent for by the Secretary of State, and the +Senator expressed his intention of waiting for him in Mr. Green's +room. "How does the great Goarly case get on, Mr. Gotobed?" asked the +clerk.</p> + +<p>"Well! I don't know that it's getting on very much."</p> + +<p>"You are not growing tired of it, Senator?"</p> + +<p>"Not by any means. But it's getting itself complicated, Mr. Green. I +mean to see the end of it, and if I'm beat,—why I can take a beating +as well as another man."</p> + +<p>"You begin to think you will be beat?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't say so, Mr. Green. It is very hard to understand all the +ins and outs of a case like that in a foreign country."</p> + +<p>"Then I shouldn't try it, Senator."</p> + +<p>"There I differ. It is my object to learn all I can."</p> + +<p>"At any rate I shouldn't pay for the lesson as you are like to do. +What'll the bill be? Four hundred dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Mr. Green. If you'll take the opinion of a good deal +older man than yourself and one who has perhaps worked harder, you'll +understand that there's no knowledge got so thoroughly as that for +which a man pays." Soon after this Morton came out from the great +man's room and went away in company with the Senator.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-2" id="c2-2"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> +<h3>THE SENATOR'S LETTER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Soon after this Senator Gotobed went down, alone, to Dillsborough and +put himself up at the Bush Inn. Although he had by no means the +reputation of being a rich man, he did not seem to care much what +money he spent in furthering any object he had taken in hand. He +never knew how near he had been to meeting the direst inhospitality +at Mr. Runciman's house. That worthy innkeeper, knowing well the +Senator's sympathy with Goarly, Scrobby and Bearside, and being heart +and soul devoted to the Rufford interest, had almost refused the +Senator the accommodation he wanted. It was only when Mrs. Runciman +represented to him that she could charge ten shillings a day for the +use of her sitting-room, and also that Lord Rufford himself had +condescended to entertain the gentleman, that Runciman gave way. Mr. +Gotobed would, no doubt, have delighted in such inhospitality. He +would have gone to the second-rate inn, which was very second-rate +indeed, and have acquired a further insight into British manners and +British prejudices. As it was, he made himself at home in the best +upstairs sitting-room at the Bush, and was quite unaware of the +indignity offered to him when Mr. Runciman refused to send him up the +best sherry. Let us hope that this refusal was remembered by the +young woman in the bar when she made out the Senator's bill.</p> + +<p>He stayed at Dillsborough for three or four days during which he saw +Goarly once and Bearside on two or three occasions,—and moreover +handed to that busy attorney three bank notes for £5 each. Bearside +was clever enough to make him believe that Goarly would certainly +obtain serious damages from the lord. With Bearside he was fairly +satisfied, thinking however that the man was much more illiterate and +ignorant than the general run of lawyers in the United States; but +with Goarly he was by no means satisfied. Goarly endeavoured to keep +out of his way and could not be induced to come to him at the Bush. +Three times he walked out to the house near Dillsborough Wood, on +each of which occasions Mrs. Goarly pestered him for money, and told +him at great length the history of her forlorn goose. Scrobby, of +whom he had heard, he could not see at all; and he found that +Bearside was very unwilling to say anything about Scrobby. Scrobby, +and the red herrings and the strychnine and the dead fox were, +according to Bearside, to be kept quite distinct from the pheasants +and the wheat. Bearside declared over and over again that there was +no evidence to connect his client with the demise of the fox. When +asked whether he did not think that his client had compassed the +death of the animal, he assured the Senator that in such matters he +never ventured to think. "Let us go by the evidence, Mr. Gotobed," he +said.</p> + +<p>"But I am paying my money for the sake of getting at the facts."</p> + +<p>"Evidence is facts, sir," said the attorney. "Any way let us settle +about the pheasants first."</p> + +<p>The condition of the Senator's mind may perhaps be best made known by +a letter which he wrote from Dillsborough to his especial and +well-trusted friend Josiah Scroome, a member of the House of +Representatives from his own state of Mickewa. Since he had been in +England he had written constantly to his friend, giving him the +result of his British experiences.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Bush Inn, Dillsborough,<br /> +Ufford County, England,<br /> +December 16, 187—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Sir,</span></p> + +<p>Since my last I have enjoyed myself very well and I am I +trust beginning to understand something of the mode of +thinking of this very peculiar people. That there should +be so wide a difference between us Americans and these +English, from whom we were divided, so to say, but the +other day, is one of the most peculiar physiological +phenomena that the history of the world will have +afforded. As far as I can hear a German or even a +Frenchman thinks much more as an Englishman thinks than +does an American. Nor does this come mainly from the +greater prevalence with us of democratic institutions. I +do not think that any one can perceive in half an hour's +conversation the difference between a Swiss and a German; +but I fancy, and I may say I flatter myself, that an +American is as easily distinguished from an Englishman, as +a sheep from a goat or a tall man from one who is short.</p> + +<p>And yet there is a pleasure in associating with those here +of the highest rank which I find it hard to describe, and +which perhaps I ought to regard as a pernicious temptation +to useless luxury. There is an ease of manner with them +which recalls with unfavourable reminiscences the hard +self-consciousness of the better class of our citizens. +There is a story of an old hero who with his companions +fell among beautiful women and luscious wine, and, but +that the hero had been warned in time, they would all have +been turned into filthy animals by yielding to the +allurements around them. The temptation here is perhaps +the same. I am not a hero; and, though I too have been +warned by the lessons I have learned under our happy +Constitution, I feel that I might easily become one of the +animals in question.</p> + +<p>And, to give them their due, it is better than merely +beautiful women and luscious wine. There is a reality +about them, and a desire to live up to their principles +which is very grand. Their principles are no doubt bad, +utterly antagonistic to all progress, unconscious +altogether of the demand for progressive equality which is +made by the united voices of suffering mankind. The man +who is born a lord and who sees a dozen serfs around him +who have been born to be half-starved ploughmen, thinks +that God arranged it all and that he is bound to maintain +a state of things so comfortable to himself, as being +God's vicegerent here on earth. But they do their work as +vicegerents with an easy grace, and with sweet pleasant +voices and soft movements, which almost make a man doubt +whether the Almighty has not in truth intended that such +injustice should be permanent. That one man should be rich +and another poor is a necessity in the present imperfect +state of civilisation;—but that one man should be born to +be a legislator, born to have everything, born to be a +tyrant,—and should think it all right, is to me +miraculous. But the greatest miracle of all is that they +who are not so born,—who have been born to suffer the +reverse side,—should also think it to be all right.</p> + +<p>With us it is necessary that a man, to shine in society, +should have done something, or should at any rate have the +capacity of doing something. But here the greatest fool +that you meet will shine, and will be admitted to be +brilliant, simply because he has possessions. Such a one +will take his part in conversation though he knows +nothing, and, when inquired into, he will own that he +knows nothing. To know anything is not his line in life. +But he can move about, and chatter like a child of ten, +and amuse himself from morning to night with various empty +playthings,—and be absolutely proud of his life!</p> + +<p>I have lately become acquainted with a certain young lord +here of this class who has treated me with great kindness, +although I have taken it into my head to oppose him as to +a matter in which he is much interested. I ventured to +inquire of him as to the pursuits of his life. He is a +lord, and therefore a legislator, but he made no scruple +to tell me that he never goes near the Chamber in which it +is his privilege to have a seat. But his party does not +lose his support. Though he never goes near the place, he +can vote, and is enabled to trust his vote to some other +more ambitious lord who does go there. It required the +absolute evidence of personal information from those who +are themselves concerned to make me believe that +legislation in Great Britain could be carried on after +such a fashion as this! Then he told me what he does do. +All the winter he hunts and shoots, going about to other +rich men's houses when there is no longer sufficient for +him to shoot left on his own estate. That lasts him from +the 1st of September to the end of March, and occupies all +his time. August he spends in Scotland, also shooting +other animals. During the other months he fishes, and +plays cricket and tennis, and attends races, and goes +about to parties in London. His evenings he spends at a +card table when he can get friends to play with him. It is +the employment of his life to fit in his amusements so +that he may not have a dull day. Wherever he goes he +carries his wine with him and his valet and his +grooms;—and if he thinks there is anything to fear, his +cook also. He very rarely opens a book. He is more +ignorant than a boy of fifteen with us, and yet he manages +to have something to say about everything. When his +ignorance has been made as clear as the sun at noon-day, +he is no whit ashamed. One would say that such a life +would break the heart of any man; but upon my word, I +doubt whether I ever came across a human being so +self-satisfied as this young lord.</p> + +<p>I have come down here to support the case of a poor man +who is I think being trampled on by this do-nothing +legislator. But I am bound to say that the lord in his +kind is very much better than the poor man in his. Such a +wretched, squalid, lying, cowardly creature I did not +think that even England could produce. And yet the man has +a property in land on which he ought to be able to live in +humble comfort. I feel sure that I have leagued myself +with a rascal, whereas I believe the lord, in spite of his +ignorance and his idleness, to be honest. But yet the man +is being hardly used, and has had the spirit, or rather +perhaps has been instigated by others, to rebel. His crops +have been eaten up by the lord's pheasants, and the lord, +exercising plenary power as though he were subject to no +laws, will only pay what compensation he himself chooses +to award. The whole country here is in arms against the +rebel, thinking it monstrous that a man living in a hovel +should contest such a point with the owner of half-a-dozen +palaces. I have come forward to help the man for the sake +of seeing how the matter will go; and I have to confess +that though those under the lord have treated me as though +I were a miscreant, the lord himself and his friends have +been civil enough.</p> + +<p>I say what I think wherever I go, and I do not find it +taken in bad part. In that respect we might learn +something even from Englishmen. When a Britisher over in +the States says what he thinks about us, we are apt to be +a little rough with him. I have, indeed, known towns in +which he couldn't speak out with personal safety. Here +there is no danger of that kind. I am getting together the +materials for a lecture on British institutions in +general, in which I shall certainly speak my mind plainly, +and I think I shall venture to deliver it in London before +I leave for New York in the course of next spring. I will, +however, write to you again before that time comes.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind8">Believe me to be,</span><br /> +<span class="ind10">Dear sir,</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">With much sincerity,</span><br /> +<span class="ind14">Yours truly,</span></p> + +<p class="ind16"><span class="smallcaps">Elias Gotobed</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">The Honble. Josiah Scroome,<br /> +125 Q Street,<br /> +Minnesota Avenue,<br /> +Washington.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>On the morning of the Senator's departure from Dillsborough, Mr. +Runciman met him standing under the covered way leading from the inn +yard into the street. He was waiting for the omnibus which was being +driven about the town, and which was to call for him and take him +down to the railway station. Mr. Runciman had not as yet spoken to +him since he had been at the inn, and had not even made himself +personally known to his guest. "So, sir, you are going to leave us," +said the landlord, with a smile which was intended probably as a +smile of triumph.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the Senator. "It's about time, I guess, that I +should get back to London."</p> + +<p>"I dare say it is, sir," said the landlord. "I dare say you've seen +enough of Mr. Goarly by this time."</p> + +<p>"That's as may be. I don't know whom I have the pleasure of speaking +to."</p> + +<p>"My name is Runciman, sir. I'm the landlord here."</p> + +<p>"I hope I see you well, Mr. Runciman. I have about come to an end of +my business here."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you have, sir. I should say so. Perhaps I might express +an opinion that you never came across a greater blackguard than +Goarly either in this country or your own."</p> + +<p>"That's a strong opinion, Mr. Runciman."</p> + +<p>"It's the general opinion here, sir. I should have thought you'd +found it out before this."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I am prepared at this moment to declare all that I +have found out."</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd have been tired of it by this time, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"Tired of what?"</p> + +<p>"Tired of the wrong side, sir."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I am on the wrong side. A man may be in the right +on one point even though his life isn't all that it ought to be."</p> + +<p>"That's true, sir; but if they told you all that they know up +street,"—and Runciman pointed to the part of the town in which +Bearside's office was situated,—"I should have thought you would +have understood who was going to win and who was going to lose. Good +day, sir; I hope you'll have a pleasant journey. Much obliged to you +for your patronage, sir," and Runciman, still smiling unpleasantly, +touched his hat as the Senator got into the omnibus.</p> + +<p>The Senator was not very happy as to the Goarly business. He had paid +some money and had half promised more, and had found out that he was +in a boat with thoroughly disreputable persons. As he had said to the +landlord, a man may have the right on his side in an action at law +though he be a knave or a rascal; and if a lord be unjust to a poor +man, the poor man should have justice done him, even though he be not +quite a pattern poor man. But now he was led to believe by what the +landlord had said to him that he was being kept in the dark, and that +there were facts generally known that he did not know. He had learned +something of English manners and English institutions by his +interference, but there might be a question whether he was not paying +too dearly for his whistle. And there was growing upon him a feeling +that before he had done he would have to blush for his colleagues.</p> + +<p>As the omnibus went away Dr. Nupper joined Mr. Runciman under the +archway. "I'm blessed if I can understand that man," said Runciman. +"What is it he's after?"</p> + +<p>"Notoriety," said the doctor, with the air of a man who has +completely solved a difficult question.</p> + +<p>"He'll have to pay for it, and that pretty smart," said Runciman. "I +never heard of such a foolish thing in all my life. What the dickens +is it to him? One can understand Bearside, and Scrobby too. When a +fellow has something to get, one does understand it. But why an old +fellow like that should come down from the moon to pay ever so much +money for such a man as Goarly, is what I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Notoriety," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"He evidently don't know that Nickem has got round Goarly," said the +landlord.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-3" id="c2-3"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> +<h3>AT CHELTENHAM.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The month at Cheltenham was passed very quietly and would have been a +very happy month with Mary Masters but that there grew upon her from +day to day increasing fears of what she would have to undergo when +she returned to Dillsborough. At the moment when she was hesitating +with Larry Twentyman, when she begged him to wait six months and then +at last promised to give him an answer at the end of two, she had +worked herself up to think that it might possibly be her duty to +accept her lover for the sake of her family. At any rate she had at +that moment thought that the question of duty ought to be further +considered, and therefore she had vacillated. When the two months' +delay was accorded to her, and within that period the privilege of a +long absence from Dillsborough, she put the trouble aside for a while +with the common feeling that the chapter of accidents might do +something for her. Before she had reached Cheltenham the chapter of +accidents had done much. When Reginald Morton told her that he could +not have congratulated her on such prospects, and had explained to +her why in truth he had been angry at the bridge,—how he had been +anxious to be alone with her that he might learn whether she were +really engaged to this man,—then she had known that her answer to +Larry Twentyman at the end of the two months must be a positive +refusal.</p> + +<p>But as she became aware of this a new trouble arose and harassed her +very soul. When she had asked for the six months she had not at the +moment been aware, she had not then felt, that a girl who asks for +time is supposed to have already surrendered. But since she had made +that unhappy request the conviction had grown upon her. She had read +it in every word her stepmother said to her and in her father's +manner. The very winks and hints and little jokes which fell from her +younger sisters told her that it was so. She could see around her the +satisfaction which had come from the settlement of that difficult +question,—a satisfaction which was perhaps more apparent with her +father than even with the others. Then she knew what she had done, +and remembered to have heard that a girl who expresses a doubt is +supposed to have gone beyond doubting. While she was still at +Dillsborough there was a feeling that no evil would arise from this +if she could at last make up her mind to be Mrs. Twentyman;—but when +the settled conviction came upon her, after hearing Reginald Morton's +words, then she was much troubled.</p> + +<p>He stayed only a couple of days at Cheltenham and during that time +said very little to her. He certainly spoke no word which would give +her a right to think that he himself was attached to her. He had been +interested about her, as was his aunt, Lady Ushant, because she had +been known and her mother had been known by the old Mortons. But +there was nothing of love in all that. She had never supposed that +there would be;—and yet there was a vague feeling in her bosom that +as he had been strong in expressing his objection to Mr. Twentyman +there might have been something more to stir him than the memory of +those old days at Bragton!</p> + +<p>"To my thinking there is a sweetness about her which I have never +seen equalled in any young woman." This was said by Lady Ushant to +her nephew after Mary had gone to bed on the night before he left.</p> + +<p>"One would suppose," he answered, "that you wanted me to ask her to +be my wife."</p> + +<p>"I never want anything of that kind, Reg. I never make in such +matters,—or mar if I can help it."</p> + +<p>"There is a man at Dillsborough wants to marry her."</p> + +<p>"I can easily believe that there should be two or three. Who is the +man?"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember old Twentyman of Chowton?"</p> + +<p>"He was our near neighbour. Of course I remember him. I can remember +well when they bought the land."</p> + +<p>"It is his son."</p> + +<p>"Surely he can hardly be worthy of her, Reg."</p> + +<p>"And yet they say he is very worthy. I have asked about him, and he +is not a bad fellow. He keeps his money and has ideas of living +decently. He doesn't drink or gamble. But he's not a gentleman or +anything like one. I should think he never opens a book. Of course it +would be a degradation."</p> + +<p>"And what does Mary say herself?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy she has refused him." Then he added after a pause, "Indeed I +know she has."</p> + +<p>"How should you know? Has she told you?" In answer to this he only +nodded his head at the old lady. "There must have been close +friendship, Reg, between you two when she told you that. I hope you +have not made her give up one suitor by leading her to love another +who does not mean to ask her."</p> + +<p>"I certainly have not done that," said Reg. Men may often do much +without knowing that they do anything, and such probably had been the +case with Reginald Morton during the journey from Dillsborough to +Cheltenham.</p> + +<p>"What would her father wish?"</p> + +<p>"They all want her to take the man."</p> + +<p>"How can she do better?"</p> + +<p>"Would you have her marry a man who is not a gentleman, whose wife +will never be visited by other ladies;—in marrying whom she would go +altogether down into another and a lower world?"</p> + +<p>This was a matter on which Lady Ushant and her nephew had conversed +often, and he thought he knew her to be thoroughly wedded to the +privileges which she believed to be attached to her birth. With him +the same feeling was almost the stronger because he was so well aware +of the blot upon himself caused by the lowness of his own father's +marriage. But a man, he held, could raise a woman to his own rank, +whereas a woman must accept the level of her husband.</p> + +<p>"Bread and meat and chairs and tables are very serious things, Reg."</p> + +<p>"You would then recommend her to take this man, and pass altogether +out of your own sphere?"</p> + +<p>"What can I do for her? I am an old woman who will be dead probably +before the first five years of her married life have passed over her. +And as for recommending, I do not know enough to recommend anything. +Does she like the man?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure she would feel herself degraded by marrying him."</p> + +<p>"I trust she will never live to feel herself degraded. I do not +believe that she could do anything that she thought would degrade +her. But I think that you and I had better leave her to herself in +this matter." Further on in the same evening, or rather late in the +night,—for they had then sat talking together for hours over the +fire,—she made a direct statement to him. "When I die, Reg, I have +but £5,000 to leave behind me, and this I have divided between you +and her. I shall not tell her because I might do more harm than good. +But you may know."</p> + +<p>"That would make no difference to me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Very likely not, but I wish you to know it. What troubles me is that +she will have to pay so much out of it for legacy duty. I might leave +it all to you and you could give it her." An honester or more +religious or better woman than old Lady Ushant there was not in +Cheltenham, but it never crossed her conscience that it would be +wrong to cheat the revenue. It may be doubted whether any woman has +ever been brought to such honesty as that.</p> + +<p>On the next morning Morton went away without saying another word in +private to Mary Masters and she was left to her quiet life with the +old lady. To an ordinary visitor nothing could have been less +exciting, for Lady Ushant very seldom went out and never entertained +company. She was a tall thin old lady with bright eyes and grey hair +and a face that was still pretty in spite of sunken eyes and sunken +cheeks and wrinkled brow. There was ever present with her an air of +melancholy which told a whole tale of the sadness of a long life. Her +chief excitement was in her two visits to church on Sunday and in the +letter which she wrote every week to her nephew at Dillsborough. Now +she had her young friend with her, and that too was an excitement to +her,—and the more so since she had heard the tidings of Larry +Twentyman's courtship.</p> + +<p>She made up her mind that she would not speak on the subject to her +young friend unless her young friend should speak to her. In the +first three weeks nothing was said; but four or five days before +Mary's departure there came up a conversation about Dillsborough and +Bragton. There had been many conversations about Dillsborough and +Bragton, but in all of them the name of Lawrence Twentyman had been +scrupulously avoided. Each had longed to name him, and yet each had +determined not to do so. But at length it was avoided no longer. Lady +Ushant had spoken of Chowton Farm and the widow. Then Mary had spoken +of the place and its inhabitants. "Mr. Twentyman comes a great deal +to our house now," she said.</p> + +<p>"Has he any reason, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"He goes with papa once a week to the club; and he sometimes lends my +sister Kate a pony. Kate is very fond of riding."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing else?"</p> + +<p>"He has got to be intimate and I think mamma likes him."</p> + +<p>"He is a good young man then?"</p> + +<p>"Very good;" said Mary with an emphasis.</p> + +<p>"And Chowton belongs to him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes;—it belongs to him."</p> + +<p>"Some young men make such ducks and drakes of their property when +they get it."</p> + +<p>"They say that he's not like that at all. People say that he +understands farming very well and that he minds everything himself."</p> + +<p>"What an excellent young man! There is no other reason for his coming +to your house, Mary?"</p> + +<p>Then the sluice-gates were opened and the whole story was told. +Sitting there late into the night Mary told it all as well as she +knew how,—all of it except in regard to any spark of love which +might have fallen upon her in respect of Reginald Morton. Of Reginald +Morton in her story of course she did not speak; but all the rest she +declared. She did not love the man. She was quite sure of that. +Though she thought so well of him there was, she was quite sure, no +feeling in her heart akin to love. She had promised to take time +because she had thought that she might perhaps be able to bring +herself to marry him without loving him,—to marry him because her +father wished it, and because her going from home would be a relief +to her stepmother and sisters, because it would be well for them all +that she should be settled out of the way. But since that she had +made up her mind,—she thought that she had quite made up her +mind,—that it would be impossible.</p> + +<p>"There is nobody else, Mary?" said Lady Ushant putting her hand on to +Mary's lap. Mary protested that there was nobody else without any +consciousness that she was telling a falsehood. "And you are quite +sure that you cannot do it?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think that I ought, Lady Ushant?"</p> + +<p>"I should be very sorry to say that, my dear. A young woman in such a +matter must be governed by her feelings. Only he seems to be a +deserving young man!" Mary looked askance at her friend, remembering +at the moment Reginald Morton's assurance that his aunt would have +disapproved of such an engagement. "But I never would persuade a girl +to marry a man she did not love. I think it would be wicked. I always +thought so."</p> + +<p>There was nothing about degradation in all this. It was quite clear +to Mary that had she been able to tell Lady Ushant that she was head +over ears in love with this young man and that therefore she was +going to marry him, her old friend would have found no reason to +lament such an arrangement. Her old friend would have congratulated +her. Lady Ushant evidently thought Larry Twentyman to be good enough +as soon as she heard what Mary found herself compelled to say in the +young man's favour. Mary was almost disappointed; but reconciled +herself to it very quickly, telling herself that there was yet time +for her to decide in favour of her lover if she could bring herself +to do so.</p> + +<p>And she did try that night and all the next day, thinking that if she +could so make up her mind she would declare her purpose to Lady +Ushant before she left Cheltenham. But she could not do it, and in +the struggle with herself at last she learned something of the truth. +Lady Ushant saw nothing but what was right and proper in a marriage +with Lawrence Twentyman, but Reginald Morton had declared it to be +improper, and therefore it was out of her reach. She could not do it. +She could not bring herself, after what he had said, to look him in +the face and tell him that she was going to become the wife of Larry +Twentyman. Then she asked herself the fatal question;—was she in +love with Reginald Morton? I do not think that she answered it in the +affirmative, but she became more and more sure that she could never +marry Larry Twentyman.</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant declared herself to have been more than satisfied with +the visit and expressed a hope that it might be repeated in the next +year. "I would ask you to come and make your home here while I have a +home to offer you, only that you would be so much more buried here +than at Dillsborough. And you have duties there which perhaps you +ought not to leave. But come again when your papa will spare you."</p> + +<p>On her journey back she certainly was not very happy. There were yet +three weeks wanting to the time at which she would be bound to give +her answer to Larry Twentyman; but why should she keep the man +waiting for three weeks when her answer was ready? Her stepmother she +knew would soon force her answer from her, and her father would be +anxious to know what had been the result of her meditations. The real +period of her reprieve had been that of her absence at Cheltenham, +and that period was now come to an end. At each station as she passed +them she remembered what Reginald Morton had been saying to her, and +how their conversation had been interrupted,—and perhaps +occasionally aided,—by the absurdities of the bird. How sweet it had +been to be near him and to listen to his whispered voice! How great +was the difference between him and that other young man, the +smartness of whose apparel was now becoming peculiarly distasteful to +her! Certainly it would have been better for her not to have gone to +Cheltenham if it was to be her fate to become Mrs. Twentyman. She was +quite sure of that now.</p> + +<p>She came up from the Dillsborough Station alone in the Bush omnibus. +She had not expected any one to meet her. Why should any one meet +her? The porter put up her box and the omnibus left her at the door. +But she remembered well how she had gone down with Reginald Morton, +and how delightful had been every little incident of the journey. +Even to walk with him up and down the platform while waiting for the +train had been a privilege. She thought of it as she got out of the +carriage and remembered that she had felt that the train had come too +soon.</p> + +<p>At her own door her father met her and took her into the parlour +where the tea-things were spread, and where her sisters were already +seated. Her stepmother soon came in and kissed her kindly. She was +asked how she had enjoyed herself, and no disagreeable questions were +put to her that night. No questions, at least, were asked which she +felt herself bound to answer. After she was in bed Kate came to her +and did say a word. "Well, Mary, do tell me. I won't tell any one." +But Mary refused to speak a word.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-4" id="c2-4"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> +<h3>THE RUFFORD CORRESPONDENCE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It might be surmised from the description which Lord Rufford had +given of his own position to his sister and his sister's two friends, +when he pictured himself as falling over the edge of the precipice +while they hung on behind to save him, that he was sufficiently aware +of the inexpediency of the proposed intimacy with Miss Trefoil. Any +one hearing him would have said that Miss Trefoil's chances in that +direction were very poor,—that a man seeing his danger so plainly +and so clearly understanding the nature of it would certainly avoid +it. But what he had said was no more than Miss Trefoil knew that he +would say,—or, at any rate would think. Of course she had against +her not only all his friends,—but the man himself also and his own +fixed intentions. Lord Rufford was not a marrying man,—which was +supposed to signify that he intended to lead a life of pleasure till +the necessity of providing an heir should be forced upon him, when he +would take to himself a wife out of his own class in life twenty +years younger than himself for whom he would not care a straw. The +odds against Miss Trefoil were of course great;—but girls have won +even against such odds as these. She knew her own powers, and was +aware that Lord Rufford was fond of feminine beauty and feminine +flutter and feminine flattery, though he was not prepared to marry. +It was quite possible that she might be able to dig such a pit for +him that it would be easier for him to marry her than to get out in +any other way. Of course she must trust something to his own folly at +first. Nor did she trust in vain. Before her week was over at Mrs. +Gore's she received from him a letter, which, with the correspondence +to which it immediately led, shall be given in this chapter.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Letter No</span>. 1.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="jright">Rufford, Sunday.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Miss Trefoil</span>,</p> + +<p>We have had a sad house since you left us. Poor Caneback +got better and then worse and then better,—and at last +died yesterday afternoon. And now;—there is to be the +funeral! The poor dear old boy seems to have had nobody +belonging to him and very little in the way of +possessions. I never knew anything of him except that he +was, or had been, in the Blues, and that he was about the +best man in England to hounds on a bad horse. It now turns +out that his father made some money in India,—a sort of +Commissary purveyor,—and bought a commission for him +twenty-five years ago. Everybody knew him but nobody knew +anything about him. Poor old Caneback! I wish he had +managed to die anywhere else and I don't feel at all +obliged to Purefoy for sending that brute of a mare here. +He said something to me about that wretched ball;—not +altogether so wretched! was it? But I didn't like what he +said and told him a bit of my mind. Now we're two for a +while; and I don't care for how long unless he comes +round.</p> + +<p>I cannot stand a funeral, and I shall get away from this. +I will pay the bill and Purefoy may do the rest. I'm going +for Christmas to Surbiton's near Melton with a string of +horses. Surbiton is a bachelor, and as there will be no +young ladies to interfere with me I shall have the more +time to think of you. We shall have a little play there +instead. I don't know whether it isn't the better of the +two, as if one does get sat upon, one doesn't feel so +confoundedly sheep-faced. I have been out with the hounds +two or three times since you went, as I could do no good +staying with that poor fellow and there was a time when we +thought he would have pulled through. I rode Jack one day, +but he didn't carry me as well as he did you. I think he's +more of a lady's horse. If I go to Mistletoe I shall have +some horses somewhere in the neighbourhood and I'll make +them take Jack, so that you may have a chance.</p> + +<p>I never know how to sign myself to young ladies. Suppose I +say that I am yours,</p> + +<p class="ind12">Anything you like best,</p> + +<p class="ind20">R.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>This was a much nicer letter than Arabella had expected, as there +were one or two touches in it, apart from the dead man and the +horses, which she thought might lead to something,—and there was a +tone in the letter which seemed to show that he was given to +correspondence. She took care to answer it so that he should get her +letter on his arrival at Mr. Surbiton's house. She found out Mr. +Surbiton's address, and then gave a great deal of time to her letter.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Letter No</span>. 2.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="jright">Murray's Hotel, Green Street,<br /> +Thursday.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Lord +Rufford</span>,</p> + +<p>As we are passing through London on our way from one +purgatory with the Gores to another purgatory with old +Lady De Browne, and as mamma is asleep in her chair +opposite, and as I have nothing else on earth to do, I +think I might as well answer your letter. Poor old Major! +I am sorry for him, because he rode so bravely. I shall +never forget his face as he passed us, and again as he +rose upon his knee when that horrid blow came! How very +odd that he should have been like that, without any +friends. What a terrible nuisance to you! I think you were +quite wise to come away. I am sure I should have done so. +I can't conceive what right Sir John Purefoy can have had +to say anything, for after all it was his doing. Do you +remember when you talked of my riding Jemima? When I think +of it I can hardly hold myself for shuddering.</p> + +<p>It is so kind of you to think of me about Jack. I am never +very fond of Mistletoe. Don't you be mischievous now and +tell the Duchess I said so. But with Jack in the +neighbourhood I can stand even her Grace. I think I shall +be there about the middle of January but it must depend on +all those people mamma is going to. I shall have to make a +great fight, for mamma thinks that ten days in the year at +Mistletoe is all that duty requires. But I always stick up +for my uncle, and mean in this instance to have a little +of my own way. What are parental commands in opposition to +Jack and all his glories? Besides mamma does not mean to +go herself.</p> + +<p>I shall leave it to you to say whether the ball was +"altogether wretched." Of course there must have been +infinite vexation to you, and to us who knew of it all +there was a feeling of deep sorrow. But perhaps we were +able, some of us, to make it a little lighter for you. At +any rate I shall never forget Rufford, whether the memory +be more pleasant or more painful. There are moments which +one never can forget!</p> + +<p>Don't go and gamble away your money among a lot of men. +Though I dare say you have got so much that it doesn't +signify whether you lose some of it or not. I do think it +is such a shame that a man like you should have such a +quantity, and that a poor girl such as I am shouldn't have +enough to pay for her hats and gloves. Why shouldn't I +send a string of horses about just when I please? I +believe I could make as good a use of them as you do, and +then I could lend you Jack. I would be so good-natured. +You should have Jack every day you wanted him.</p> + +<p>You must write and tell me what day you will be at +Mistletoe. It is you that have tempted me and I don't mean +to be there without you,—or I suppose I ought to say, +without the horse. But of course you will have understood +that. No young lady ever is supposed to desire the +presence of any young man. It would be very improper of +course. But a young man's Jack is quite another thing.</p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>So far her pen had flown with her, but then there came the necessity +for a conclusion which must be worded in some peculiar way, as his +had been so peculiar. How far might she dare to be affectionate +without putting him on his guard? Or in what way might she be saucy +so as best to please him? She tried two or three, and at last she +ended her letter as follows.</p> + + +<blockquote> +<p>I have not had much experience in signing myself to young +gentlemen and am therefore quite in as great a difficulty +as you were; but, though I can't swear that I am +everything that you like best, I will protest that I am +pretty nearly what you ought to like,—as far as young +ladies go.</p> + +<p>In the meantime I certainly am,</p> + +<p class="ind16">Yours truly,</p> + +<p class="ind20">A. T.</p> + +<p class="noindent">P.S. Mind you write—about +Jack; and address to Lady +Smijth—Greenacres Manor—Hastings.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>There was a great deal in this letter which was not true. But then +such ladies as Miss Trefoil can never afford to tell the truth.</p> + +<p>The letter was not written from Murray's Hotel, Lady Augustus having +insisted on staying at certain lodgings in Orchard Street because her +funds were low. But on previous occasions they had stayed at +Murray's. And her mamma, instead of being asleep when the letter was +written, was making up her accounts. And every word about Mistletoe +had been false. She had not yet secured her invitation. She was hard +at work on the attempt, having induced her father absolutely to beg +the favour from his brother. But at the present moment she was +altogether diffident of success. Should she fail she must only tell +Lord Rufford that her mother's numerous engagements had at the last +moment made her happiness impossible. That she was going to Lady +Smijth's was true, and at Lady Smijth's house she received the +following note from Lord Rufford. It was then January, and the great +Mistletoe question was not as yet settled.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Letter No</span>. 3.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="jright">December 31.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Miss +Trefoil</span>,</p> + +<p>Here I am still at Surbiton's and we have had such good +sport that I'm half inclined to give the Duke the slip. +What a pity that you can't come here instead. Wouldn't it +be nice for you and half a dozen more without any of the +Dowagers or Duennas? You might win some of the money which +I lose. I have been very unlucky and, if you had won it +all, there would be plenty of room for hats and +gloves,—and for sending two or three Jacks about all the +winter into the bargain. I never did win yet. I don't care +very much about it, but I don't know why I should always +be so uncommonly unlucky.</p> + +<p>We had such a day yesterday,—an hour and ten minutes all +in the open, and then a kill just as the poor fellow was +trying to make a drain under the high road. There were +only five of us up. Surbiton broke his horse's back at a +bank, and young De Canute came down on to a road and +smashed his collar bone. Three or four of the hounds were +so done that they couldn't be got home. I was riding Black +Harry and he won't be out again for a fortnight. It was +the best thing I've seen these two years. We never have it +quite like that with the U. R. U.</p> + +<p>If I don't go to Mistletoe I'll send Jack and a groom if +you think the Duke would take them in and let you ride the +horse. If so I shall stay here pretty nearly all January, +unless there should be a frost. In that case I should go +back to Rufford as I have a deal of shooting to do. I +shall be so sorry not to see you;—but there is always a +sort of sin in not sticking to hunting when it's good. It +so seldom is just what it ought to be.</p> + +<p>I rather think that after all we shall be down on that +fellow who poisoned our fox, in spite of your friend the +Senator.</p> + +<p class="ind14">Yours always faithfully,</p> + +<p class="ind18">R.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>There was a great deal in this letter which was quite terrible to +Miss Trefoil. In the first place by the time she received it she had +managed the matter with her uncle. Her father had altogether refused +to mention Lord Rufford's name,—though he had heard the very plain +proposition which his daughter made to him with perfect serenity. But +he had said to the Duke that it would be a great convenience if Bell +could be received at Mistletoe for a few days, and the Duke had got +the Duchess to assent. Lady Augustus, too, had been disposed of, and +two very handsome new dresses had been acquired. Her habit had been +altered with reckless disregard of the coming spring and she was +fully prepared for her campaign. But what would Mistletoe be to her +without Lord Rufford? In spite of all that had been done she would +not go there. Unless she could turn him by her entreaties she would +pack up everything and start for Patagonia, with the determination to +throw herself overboard on the way there if she could find the +courage.</p> + +<p>She had to think very much of her next letter. Should she write in +anger or should she write in love,—or should she mingle both? There +was no need for care now, as there had been at first. She must reach +him at once, or everything would be over. She must say something that +would bring him to Mistletoe, whatever that something might be. After +much thought she determined that mingled anger and love would be the +best. So she mingled them as follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Letter No</span>. 4.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="jright">Greenacre Manor, Monday.</p> + +<p>Your last letter which I have just got has killed me. You +must know that I have altered my plans and done it at +immense trouble for the sake of meeting you at Mistletoe. +It will be most unkind,—I might say worse,—if you put me +off. I don't think you can do it as a gentleman. I'm sure +you would not if you knew what I have gone through with +mamma and the whole set of them to arrange it. Of course I +shan't go if you don't come. Your talk of sending the +horse there is adding an insult to the injury. You must +have meant to annoy me or you wouldn't have pretended to +suppose that it was the horse I wanted to see. I didn't +think I could have taken so violent a dislike to poor Jack +as I did for a moment. Let me tell you that I think you +are bound to go to Mistletoe though the hunting at Melton +should be better than was ever known before. When the +hunting is good in one place of course it is good in +another. Even I am sportsman enough to know that. I +suppose you have been losing a lot of money and are +foolish enough to think you can win it back again.</p> + +<p>Please, please come. It was to be the little cream of the +year for me. It wasn't Jack. There! That ought to bring +you. And yet, if you come, I will worship Jack. I have not +said a word to mamma about altering my plans, nor shall I +while there is a hope. But to Mistletoe I will not go, +unless you are to be there. Pray answer this by return of +post. If we have gone your letter will of course follow +us. Pray come. Yours if you do come—; what shall I say? +Fill it as you please.</p> + +<p class="ind16">A. T.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Lord Rufford when he received the above very ardent epistle was quite +aware that he had better not go to Mistletoe. He understood the +matter nearly as well as Arabella did herself. But there was a +feeling with him that up to that stage of the affair he ought to do +what he was asked by a young lady, even though there might be danger. +Though there was danger there would still be amusement. He therefore +wrote again as follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Letter No</span>. 5.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Miss Trefoil</span>,</p> + +<p>You shan't be disappointed whether it be Jack or any less +useful animal that you wish to see. At any rate Jack,—and +the other animal,—will be at Mistletoe on the 15th. I +have written to the Duke by this post. I can only hope +that you will be grateful. After all your abuse about my +getting back my money I think you ought to be very +grateful. I have got it back again, but I can assure you +that has had nothing to do with it.</p> + +<p class="ind16">Yours ever,</p> + +<p class="ind18">R.</p> + +<p class="noindent">We had two miserably abortive days last week.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Arabella felt that a great deal of the compliment was taken away by +the postscript; but still she was grateful and contented.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-5" id="c2-5"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> +<h3>"IT IS A LONG WAY."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>While the correspondence given in the last chapter was going on Miss +Trefoil had other troubles besides those there narrated, and other +letters to answer. Soon after her departure from Rufford she received +a very serious but still an affectionate epistle from John Morton in +which he asked her if it was her intention to become his wife or not. +The letter was very long as well as very serious and need not be +given here at length. But that was the gist of it; and he went on to +say that in regard to money he had made the most liberal proposition +in his power, that he must decline to have any further communication +with lawyers, and that he must ask her to let him know at +once,—quite at once,—whether she did or did not regard herself as +engaged to him. It was a manly letter and ended by a declaration that +as far as he himself was concerned his feelings were not at all +altered. This she received while staying at the Gores', but, in +accordance with her predetermined strategy, did not at once send any +answer to it. Before she heard again from Morton she had received +that pleasant first letter from Lord Rufford, and was certainly then +in no frame of mind to assure Mr. Morton that she was ready to +declare herself his affianced wife before all the world. Then, after +ten days, he had written to her again and had written much more +severely. It wanted at that time but a few days to Christmas, and she +was waiting for a second letter from Lord Rufford. Let what might +come of it she could not now give up the Rufford chance. As she sat +thinking of it, giving the very best of her mind to it, she +remembered the warmth of that embrace in the little room behind the +drawing-room, and those halcyon minutes in which her head had been on +his shoulder, and his arm round her waist. Not that they were made +halcyon to her by any of the joys of love. In giving the girl her due +it must be owned that she rarely allowed herself to indulge in simple +pleasures. If Lord Rufford, with the same rank and property, had been +personally disagreeable to her it would have been the same. Business +to her had for many years been business, and her business had been so +very hard that she had never allowed lighter things to interfere with +it. She had had justice on her side when she rebuked her mother for +accusing her of flirtations. But could such a man as Lord +Rufford—with his hands so free,—venture to tell himself that such +tokens of affection with such a girl would mean nothing? If she might +contrive to meet him again of course they would be repeated, and then +he should be forced to say that they did mean something. When +therefore the severe letter came from Morton,—severe and pressing, +telling her that she was bound to answer him at once and that were +she still silent he must in regard to his own honour take that as an +indication of her intention to break off the match,—she felt that +she must answer it. The answer must, however, still be ambiguous. She +would not if possible throw away that stool quite as yet, though her +mind was intent on ascending to the throne which it might be within +her power to reach. She wrote to him an ambiguous letter,—but a +letter which certainly was not intended to liberate him. "He ought," +she said, "to understand that a girl situated as she was could not +ultimately dispose of herself till her friends had told her that she +was free to do so. She herself did not pretend to have any interest +in the affairs as to which her father and his lawyers were making +themselves busy. They had never even condescended to tell her what it +was they wanted on her behalf;—nor, for the matter of that, had he, +Morton, ever told her what it was that he refused to do. Of course +she could not throw herself into his arms till these things were +settled."—By that expression she had meant a metaphorical throwing +of herself, and not such a flesh and blood embracing as she had +permitted to the lord in the little room at Rufford. Then she +suggested that he should appeal again to her father. It need hardly +be said that her father knew very little about it, and that the +lawyers had long since written to Lady Augustus to say that better +terms as to settlement could not be had from Mr. John Morton.</p> + +<p>Morton, when he wrote his second letter, had received the offer of +the mission to Patagonia and had asked for a few days to think of it. +After much consideration he had determined that he would say nothing +to Arabella of the offer. Her treatment of him gave her no right to +be consulted. Should she at once write back declaring her readiness +to become his wife, then he would consult her,—and would not only +consult her but would be prepared to abandon the mission at the +expression of her lightest wish. Indeed in that case he thought that +he would himself advise that it should be abandoned. Why should he +expatriate himself to such a place with such a wife as Arabella +Trefoil? He received her answer and at once accepted the offer. He +accepted it, though he by no means assured himself that the +engagement was irrevocably annulled. But now, if she came to him, she +must take her chance. She must be told that he at any rate was going +to Patagonia, and that unless she could make up her mind to do so +too, she must remain Arabella Trefoil for him. He would not even tell +her of his appointment. He had done all that in him lay and would +prepare himself for his journey as a single man. A minister going out +to Patagonia would of course have some little leave of absence +allowed him, and he arranged with his friend Mounser Green that he +should not start till April.</p> + +<p>But when Lord Rufford's second letter reached Miss Trefoil down at +Greenacre Manor, where she had learned by common report that Mr. +Morton was to be the new minister at Patagonia,—when she believed as +she then did that the lord was escaping her, that, seeing and feeling +his danger, he had determined not to jump into the lion's mouth by +meeting her at Mistletoe, that her chance there was all over; then +she remembered her age, her many seasons, the hard work of her +toilet, those tedious long and bitter quarrels with her mother, the +ever-renewed trouble of her smiles, the hopelessness of her future +should she smile in vain to the last, and the countless miseries of +her endless visitings; and she remembered too the £1200 a year that +Morton had offered to settle on her and the assurance of a home of +her own though that home should be at Bragton. For an hour or two she +had almost given up the hope of Rufford and had meditated some letter +to her other lover which might at any rate secure him. But she had +collected her courage sufficiently to make that last appeal to the +lord, which had been successful. Three weeks now might settle all +that and for three weeks it might still be possible so to manage her +affairs that she might fall back upon Patagonia as her last resource.</p> + +<p>About this time Morton returned to Bragton, waiting however till he +was assured that the Senator had completed his visit to Dillsborough. +He had been a little ashamed of the Senator in regard to the great +Goarly conflict and was not desirous of relieving his solitude by the +presence of the American. On this occasion he went quite alone and +ordered no carriages from the Bush and no increased establishment of +servants. He certainly was not happy in his mind. The mission to +Patagonia was well paid, being worth with house and etceteras nearly +£3000 a year; and it was great and quick promotion for one so young +as himself. For one neither a lord nor connected with a Cabinet +Minister Patagonia was a great place at which to begin his career as +Plenipotentiary on his own bottom;—but it is a long way off and has +its drawbacks. He could not look to be there for less than four +years; and there was hardly reason why a man in his position should +expatriate himself to such a place for so long a time. He felt that +he should not have gone but for his engagement to Arabella Trefoil, +and that neither would he have gone had his engagement been solid and +permanent. He was going in order that he might be rid of that +trouble, and a man's feelings in such circumstances cannot be +satisfactory to himself. However he had said that he would go, and he +knew enough of himself to be certain that having said so he would not +alter his mind. But he was very melancholy and Mrs. Hopkins declared +to old Mrs. Twentyman that the young squire was "hipped,"—"along of +his lady love," as she thought.</p> + +<p>His hands had been so full of his visitors when at Bragton before, +and he had been carried off so suddenly to Rufford, and then had +hurried up to London in such misery, that he had hardly had time to +attend to his own business. Mr. Masters had made a claim upon him +since he had been in England for £127 8<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i> in reference +to certain long-gone affairs in which the attorney declared he had been +badly treated by those who had administered the Morton estate. John +Morton had promised to look into the matter and to see Mr. Masters. +He had partially looked into it and now felt ashamed that he had not +fully kept his promise. The old attorney had not had much hope of +getting his money. It was doubtful to himself whether he could make +good his claim against the Squire at law, and it was his settled +purpose to make no such attempt although he was quite sure that the +money was his due. Indeed if Mr. Morton would not do anything further +in the matter, neither would he. He was almost too mild a man to be a +successful lawyer, and had a dislike to asking for money. Mr. Morton +had promised to see him, but Mr. Morton had probably—forgotten it. +Some gentlemen seem apt to forget such promises.</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters was somewhat surprised therefore when he was told one +morning in his office that Mr. Morton from Bragton wished to see him. +He thought that it must be Reginald Morton, having not heard that the +Squire had returned to the country. But John Morton was shown into +the office, and the old attorney immediately arose from his +arm-chair. Sundown was there, and was at once sent out of the room. +Sundown on such occasions was accustomed to retire to some settlement +seldom visited by the public which was called the back office. Nickem +was away intent on unravelling the Goarly mystery, and the attorney +could ask his visitor to take a confidential seat. Mr. Morton however +had very little to say. He was full of apologies and at once handed +out a cheque for the sum demanded. The money was so much to the +attorney that he was flurried by his own success. "Perhaps," said +Morton, "I ought in fairness to add interest."</p> + +<p>"Not at all;—by no means. Lawyers never expect that. Really, Mr. +Morton, I am very much obliged. It was so long ago that I thought +that perhaps you might <span class="nowrap">think—"</span></p> + +<p>"I do not doubt that it's all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Morton—it is all right. It is quite right. But your coming +in this way is quite a compliment. I am so proud to see the owner of +Bragton once more in this house. I respect the family as I always +did; and as for the <span class="nowrap">money—"</span></p> + +<p>"I am only sorry that it has been delayed so long. Good morning, Mr. +Masters."</p> + +<p>The attorney's affairs were in such a condition that an unexpected +cheque for £127 8<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i> sufficed to exhilarate him. It +was as though the money had come down to him from the very skies. As it +happened Mary returned from Cheltenham on that same evening and the +attorney felt that if she had brought back with her an intention to +be Mrs. Twentyman he could still be a happy and contented man.</p> + +<p>And there had been another trouble on John Morton's mind. He had +received his cousin's card but had not returned the visit while his +grandmother had been at Bragton. Now he walked on to Hoppet Hall and +knocked at the door.—Yes;—Mr. Morton was at home, and then he was +shown into the presence of his cousin whom he had not seen since he +was a boy. "I ought to have come sooner," said the Squire, who was +hardly at his ease.</p> + +<p>"I heard you had a house full of people at Bragton."</p> + +<p>"Just that,—and then I went off rather suddenly to the other side of +the country; and then I had to go up to London. Now I'm going to +Patagonia."</p> + +<p>"Patagonia! That's a long way off."</p> + +<p>"We Foreign Office slaves have to be sent a long way off."</p> + +<p>"But we heard, John," said Reginald, who did not feel it to be his +duty to stand on any ceremony with his younger cousin,—"we heard +that you were going to be married to Miss Trefoil. Are you going to +take a wife out to Patagonia?"</p> + +<p>This was a question which he certainly had not expected. "I don't +know how that may be," he said frowning.</p> + +<p>"We were told here in Dillsborough that it was all settled. I hope I +haven't asked an improper question."</p> + +<p>"Of course people will talk."</p> + +<p>"If it's only talk I beg pardon. Whatever concerns Bragton is +interesting to me, and from the way in which I heard this I thought +it was a certainty. Patagonia;—well! You don't want an assistant +private secretary I suppose? I should like to see Patagonia."</p> + +<p>"We are not allowed to appoint those gentlemen ourselves."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose I should be too old to get in at the bottom. It seems +a long way off for a man who is the owner of Bragton."</p> + +<p>"It is a long way."</p> + +<p>"And what will you do with the old place?"</p> + +<p>"There's no one to live there. If you were married you might perhaps +take it." This was of course said in joke, as old Mrs. Morton would +have thought Bragton to be disgraced for ever, even by such a +proposition.</p> + +<p>"You might let it."</p> + +<p>"Who would take such a place for five years? I suppose old Mrs. +Hopkins will remain, and that it will become more and more desolate +every year. I mustn't let the old house tumble down;—that's all." +Then the Minister Plenipotentiary to Patagonia took his departure and +walked back to Bragton thinking of the publicity of his engagement. +All Dillsborough had heard that he was to be married to Miss Trefoil, +and this cousin of his had been so sure of the fact that he had not +hesitated to ask a question about it in the first moment of their +first interview. Under such circumstances it would be better for him +to go to Patagonia than to remain in England.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-6" id="c2-6"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> +<h3>THE BEGINNING OF PERSECUTION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Mary Masters got up on the morning after her arrival she knew +that she would have to endure much on that day. Everybody had smiled +on her the preceding evening, but the smiles were of a nature which +declared themselves to be preparatory to some coming event. The +people around her were gracious on the presumption that she was going +to do as they wished, and would be quite prepared to withdraw their +smiles should she prove to be contumacious. Mary, as she crept down +in the morning, understood all this perfectly. She found her +stepmother alone in the parlour and was at once attacked with the all +important question. "My dear, I hope you have made up your mind about +Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"There were to be two months, mamma."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, Mary. Of course you must know what you mean to tell +him." Mary thought that she did know, but was not at the present +moment disposed to make known her knowledge and therefore remained +silent. "You should remember how much this is to your papa and me and +should speak out at once. Of course you need not tell Mr. Twentyman +till the end of the time unless you like it."</p> + +<p>"I thought I was to be left alone for two months."</p> + +<p>"Mary, that is wicked. When your papa has so many things to think of +and so much to provide for, you should be more thoughtful of him. Of +course he will want to be prepared to give you what things will be +necessary." Mrs. Masters had not as yet heard of Mr. Morton's cheque, +and perhaps would not hear of it till her husband's bank book fell +into her hands. The attorney had lately found it necessary to keep +such matters to himself when it was possible, as otherwise he was +asked for explanations which it was not always easy for him to give. +"You know," continued Mrs. Masters, "how hard your father finds it to +get money as it is wanted."</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything, mamma."</p> + +<p>"You must want things if you are to be married in March or April."</p> + +<p>"But I shan't be married in March or April. Oh, mamma, pray don't."</p> + +<p>"In a week's time or so you must tell Larry. After all that has +passed of course he won't expect to have to wait long, and you can't +ask him. Kate, my dear,"—Kate had just entered the room,—"go into +the office and tell your father to come into breakfast in five +minutes. You must know, Mary, and I insist on your telling me."</p> + +<p>"When I said two months,—only it was he said two +<span class="nowrap">months—"</span></p> + +<p>"What difference does it make, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"It was only because he asked me to put it off. I knew it could make +no difference."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me, Mary, that you are going to refuse him after +all?"</p> + +<p>"I can't help it," said Mary, bursting out into tears.</p> + +<p>"Can't help it! Did anybody ever see such an idiot since girls were +first created? Not help it, after having given him as good as a +promise! You must help it. You must be made to help it."</p> + +<p>There was an injustice in this which nearly killed poor Mary. She had +been persuaded among them to put off her final decision, not because +she had any doubt in her own mind, but at their request, and now she +was told that in granting this delay she had "given as good as a +promise!" And her stepmother also had declared that she "must be made +to help it,"—or in other words be made to marry Mr. Twentyman in +opposition to her own wishes! She was quite sure that no human being +could have such right of compulsion over her. Her father would not +attempt it, and it was, after all, to her father alone, that she was +bound by duty. At the moment she could make no reply, and then her +father with the two girls came in from the office.</p> + +<p>The attorney was still a little radiant with his triumph about the +cheque and was also pleased with his own discernment in the matter of +Goarly. He had learned that morning from Nickem that Goarly had +consented to take 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> an acre from Lord Rufford and was +prepared to act "quite the honourable part" on behalf of his +lordship. Nickem had seemed to think that the triumph would not end +here, but had declined to make any very definite statements. Nickem +clearly fancied that he had been doing great things himself, and that +he might be allowed to have a little mystery. But the attorney took +great credit to himself in that he had rejected Goarly's case, and +had been employed by Lord Rufford in lieu of Goarly. When he entered +the parlour he had for the moment forgotten Larry Twentyman, and was +disposed to greet his girl lovingly;—but he found her dissolved in +bitter tears. "Mary, my darling, what is it ails you?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about your darling now, but come to breakfast. She is +giving herself airs,—as usual."</p> + +<p>But Mary never did give herself airs and her father could not endure +the accusation. "She would not be crying," he said, "unless she had +something to cry for."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't make a fuss about things you don't understand," said his +wife. "Mary, are you coming to the table? If not you had better go +up-stairs. I hate such ways, and I won't have them. This comes of +Ushanting! I knew what it would be. The place for girls is to stay at +home and mind their work,—till they have got houses of their own to +look after. That's what I intend my girls to do. There's nothing on +earth so bad for girls as that twiddle-your-thumbs visiting about +when they think they've nothing to do but to show what sort of +ribbons and gloves they've got. Now, Dolly, if you've got any hands +will you cut the bread for your father? Mary's a deal too fine a lady +to do anything but sit there and rub her eyes." After that the +breakfast was eaten in silence.</p> + +<p>When the meal was over Mary followed her father into the office and +said that she wanted to speak to him. When Sundown had disappeared +she told her tale. "Papa," she said, "I am so sorry, but I can't do +what you want about Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"Is it so, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry with me, papa."</p> + +<p>"Angry! No;—I won't be angry. I should be very sorry to be angry +with my girl. But what you tell me will make us all very +unhappy;—very unhappy indeed. What will you say to Lawrence +Twentyman?"</p> + +<p>"What I said before, papa."</p> + +<p>"But he is quite certain now that you mean to take him. Of course we +were all certain when you only wanted a few more days to think of +it." Mary felt this to be the cruellest thing of all. "When he asked +me I said I wouldn't pledge you, but I certainly had no doubt. What +is the matter, Mary?"</p> + +<p>She could understand that a girl might be asked why she wanted to +marry a man, and that in such a condition she ought to be able to +give a reason; but it was she thought very hard that she should be +asked why she didn't want to marry a man. "I suppose, papa," she said +after a pause, "I don't like him in that way."</p> + +<p>"Your mamma will be sure to say that it is because you went to Lady +Ushant's."</p> + +<p>And so in part it was,—as Mary herself very well knew; though Lady +Ushant herself had had nothing to do with it. "Lady Ushant," she +said, "would be very well pleased,—if she thought that I liked him +well enough."</p> + +<p>"Did you tell Lady Ushant?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I told her all about it,—and how you would all be pleased. And +I did try to bring myself to it. Papa,—pray, pray don't want to send +me away from you."</p> + +<p>"You would be so near to us all at Chowton Farm!"</p> + +<p>"I am nearer here, papa." Then she embraced him, and he in a manner +yielded to her. He yielded to her so far as to part with her at the +present moment with soft loving words.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters had a long conversation with her husband on the subject +that same day, and condescended even to say a few words to the two +girls. She had her own theory and her own plan in the present +emergency. According to her theory girls shouldn't be indulged in any +vagaries, and this rejecting of a highly valuable suitor was a most +inexcusable vagary. And, if her plan were followed, a considerable +amount of wholesome coercion would at once be exercised towards this +refractory young woman. There was in fact more than a fortnight +wanting to the expiration of Larry's two months, and Mrs. Masters was +strongly of opinion that if Mary were put into a sort of domestic +"Coventry" during this period, if she were debarred from friendly +intercourse with the family and made to feel that such wickedness as +hers, if continued, would make her an outcast, then she would come +round and accept Larry Twentyman before the end of the time. But this +plan could not be carried out without her husband's co-operation. +Were she to attempt it single-handed, Mary would take refuge in her +father's softness of heart and there would simply be two parties in +the household. "If you would leave her to me and not speak to her, it +would be all right," Mrs. Masters said to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Not speak to her!"</p> + +<p>"Not cosset her and spoil her for the next week or two. Just leave +her to herself and let her feel what she's doing. Think what Chowton +Farm would be, and you with your business all slipping through your +fingers."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that it's slipping through my fingers at all," said the +attorney mindful of his recent successes.</p> + +<p>"If you mean to say you don't care about it—!"</p> + +<p>"I do care about it very much. You know I do. You ought not to talk +to me in that way."</p> + +<p>"Then why won't you be said by me? Of course if you cocker her up, +she'll think she's to have her own way like a grand lady. She don't +like him because he works for his bread,—that's what it is; and +because she's been taught by that old woman to read poetry. I never +knew that stuff do any good to anybody. I hate them fandangled lines +that are all cut up short to make pretence. If she wants to read why +can't she take the cookery book and learn something useful? It just +comes to this;—if you want her to marry Larry Twentyman you had +better not notice her for the next fortnight. Let her go and come and +say nothing to her. She'll think about it, if she's left to herself."</p> + +<p>The attorney did want his daughter to marry the man and was half +convinced by his wife. He could not bring himself to be cruel and +felt that his heart would bleed every hour of the day that he +separated himself from his girl;—but still he thought that he might +perhaps best in this way bring about a result which would be so +manifestly for her advantage. It might be that the books of poetry +and the modes of thought which his wife described as "Ushanting" were +of a nature to pervert his girl's mind from the material necessities +of life and that a little hardship would bring her round to a more +rational condition. With a very heavy heart he consented to do his +part,—which was to consist mainly of silence. Any words which might +be considered expedient were to come from his wife.</p> + +<p>Three or four days went on in this way, which were days of absolute +misery to Mary. She soon perceived and partly understood her father's +silence. She knew at any rate that for the present she was debarred +from his confidence. Her mother did not say much, but what she did +say was all founded on the theory that Ushanting and softness in +general are very bad for young women. Even Dolly and Kate were hard +to her,—each having some dim idea that Mary was to be coerced +towards Larry Twentyman and her own good. At the end of that time, +when Mary had been at home nearly a week, Larry came as usual on the +Saturday evening. She, well knowing his habit, took care to be out of +the way. Larry, with a pleasant face, asked after her, and expressed +a hope that she had enjoyed herself at Cheltenham.</p> + +<p>"A nasty idle place where nobody does anything as I believe," said +Mrs. Masters. Larry received a shock from the tone of the lady's +voice. He had allowed himself to think that all his troubles were now +nearly over, but the words and the voice frightened him. He had told +himself that he was not to speak of his love again till the two +months were over, and like an honourable man he was prepared to wait +the full time. He would not now have come to the attorney's house but +that he knew the attorney would wait for him before going over to the +club. He had no right to draw deductions till the time should be up. +But he could not help his own feelings and was aware that his heart +sank within him when he was told that Cheltenham was a nasty idle +place. Abuse of Cheltenham at the present moment was in fact abuse of +Mary;—and the one sin which Mary could commit was persistence in her +rejection of his suit. But he determined to be a man as he walked +across the street with his old friend, and said not a word about his +love. "They tell me that Goarly has taken his 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, Mr. +Masters."</p> + +<p>"Of course he has taken it, Larry. The worse luck for me. If he had +gone on I might have had a bill against his Lordship as long as my +arm. Now it won't be worth looking after."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you're very glad, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Well; yes; I am glad. I do hate to see a fellow like that who hasn't +got a farthing of his own, propped up from behind just to annoy his +betters."</p> + +<p>"They say that Bearside got a lot of money out of that American."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he got something."</p> + +<p>"What an idiot that man must be. Can you understand it, Mr. Masters?"</p> + +<p>They now entered the club and Goarly and Nickem and Scrobby were of +course being discussed. "Is it true, Mr. Masters, that Scrobby is to +be arrested?" asked Fred Botsey at once.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I can't say, Mr. Botsey; but if you tell me it is so I +shan't cry my eyes out."</p> + +<p>"I thought you would have known."</p> + +<p>"A gentleman may know a thing, Mr. Botsey," said the landlord, "and +not exactly choose to tell it."</p> + +<p>"I didn't suppose there was any secret," said the brewer. As Mr. +Masters made no further remark it was of course conceived that he +knew all about it and he was therefore treated with some increased +deference. But there was on that night great triumph in the club as +it was known as a fact that Goarly had withdrawn his claim, and that +the American Senator had paid his money for nothing. It was moreover +very generally believed that Goarly was going to turn evidence +against Scrobby in reference to the poison.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-7" id="c2-7"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> +<h3>MARY'S LETTER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The silent system in regard to Mary was carried on in the attorney's +house for a week, during which her sufferings were very great. From +the first she made up her mind to oppose her stepmother's cruelty by +sheer obstinacy. She had been told that she must be made to marry Mr. +Twentyman, and the injustice of that threat had at once made her +rebel against her stepmother's authority. She would never allow her +stepmother to make her marry any one. She put herself into a state of +general defiance and said as little as was said to her. But her +father's silence to her nearly broke her heart. On one or two +occasions, as opportunity offered itself to her, she said little soft +words to him in privacy. Then he would partly relent, would kiss her +and bid her be a good girl, and would quickly hurry away from her. +She could understand that he suffered as well as herself, and she +perhaps got some consolation from the conviction. At last, on the +following Saturday she watched her opportunity and brought to him +when he was alone in his office a letter which she had written to +Larry Twentyman. "Papa," she said, "would you read that?" He took and +read the letter, which was as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Mr. Twentyman</span>,</p> + +<p>Something was said about two months which are now very +nearly over. I think I ought to save you from the trouble +of coming to me again by telling you in a letter that it +cannot be as you would have it. I have thought of it a +great deal and have of course been anxious to do as my +friends wish. And I am very grateful to you, and know how +good and how kind you are. And I would do anything for +you,—except this. But it never can be. I should not write +like this unless I were quite certain. I hope you won't be +angry with me and think that I should have spared you the +trouble of doubting so long. I know now that I ought not +to have doubted at all; but I was so anxious not to seem +to be obstinate that I became foolish about it when you +asked me. What I say now is quite certain.</p> + +<p>Dear Mr. Twentyman, I shall always think of you with +esteem and regard, because I know how good you are; and I +hope you will come to like somebody a great deal better +than me who will always love you with her whole heart.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Yours very truly,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Mary Masters</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">P.S. I shall show this letter to papa.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Mr. Masters read it as she stood by him,—and then read it again very +slowly rubbing one hand over the other as he did so. He was thinking +what he should do;—or rather what he should say. The idea of +stopping the letter never occurred to him. If she chose to refuse the +man of course she must do so; and perhaps, if she did refuse him, +there was no way better than this. "Must it be so, Mary?" he said at +last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I do not love him as I should have to love any man that I +wanted to marry. I have tried it, because you wished it, but I cannot +do it."</p> + +<p>"What will mamma say?"</p> + +<p>"I am thinking more, papa, of you," she said putting her arm over his +shoulder. "You have always been so good to me, and so kind!" Here his +heart misgave him, for he felt that during the last week he had not +been kind to her. "But you would not wish me to give myself to a man +and then not to care for him."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't do it. I should fall down dead first. I have thought so +much about it,—for your sake; and have tried it with myself. I +couldn't do it."</p> + +<p>"Is there anybody else, Mary?" As he asked the question he held her +hand beneath his own on the desk, but he did not dare to look into +her face. He had been told by his wife that there was somebody +else;—that the girl's mind was running upon Mr. Surtees, because Mr. +Surtees was a gentleman. He was thinking of Mr. Surtees, and +certainly not of Reginald Morton.</p> + +<p>To her the moment was very solemn and when the question was asked she +felt that she could not tell her father a falsehood. She had +gradually grown bold enough to assure herself that her heart was +occupied with that man who had travelled with her to Cheltenham; and +she felt that that feeling alone must keep her apart from any other +love. And yet, as she had no hope, as she had assured herself that +her love was a burden to be borne and could never become a source of +enjoyment, why should her secret be wrested from her? What good would +such a violation do? But she could not tell the falsehood, and +therefore she held her tongue.</p> + +<p>Gradually he looked up into her face, still keeping her hand pressed +on the desk under his. It was his left hand that so guarded her, +while she stood by his right shoulder. Then he gently wound his right +arm round her waist and pressed her to him. "Mary," he said, "if it +is so, had you not better tell me?" But she was sure that she had +better not mention that name even to him. It was impossible that she +should mention it. She would have outraged to herself her own maiden +modesty by doing so. "Is it,"—he asked very softly,—"is it—Mr. +Surtees?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" she said quickly, almost escaping from the grasp of his arm +in her start.</p> + +<p>Then he was absolutely at a loss. Beyond Mr. Surtees or Larry +Twentyman he did not know what possible lover Dillsborough could have +afforded. And yet the very rapidity of her answer when the curate's +name had been mentioned had convinced him that there was some other +person,—had increased the strength of that conviction which her +silence had produced. "Have you nothing that you can tell me, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"No, papa." Then he gave her back the letter and she left the room +without another word. Of course his sanction to the letter had now +been given, and it was addressed to Chowton Farm and posted before +half an hour was over. She saw him again in the afternoon of the same +day and asked him to tell her stepmother what she had done. "Mamma +ought to know," she said.</p> + +<p>"But you haven't sent it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa;—it is in the post."</p> + +<p>Then it occurred to him that his wife would tell him that he should +have prevented the sending of the letter,—that he should have +destroyed it and altogether taken the matter with a high hand. "You +can't tell her yourself?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I would rather you did. Mamma has been so hard to me since I came +home."</p> + +<p>He did tell his wife and she overwhelmed him by the violence of her +reproaches. He could never have been in earnest, or he would not have +allowed such a letter as that to pass through his hands. He must be +afraid of his own child. He did not know his own duty. He had been +deceiving her,—his wife,—from first to last. Then she threw herself +into a torrent of tears declaring that she had been betrayed. There +had been a conspiracy between them, and now everything might go to +the dogs, and she would not lift up her hands again to save them. But +before the evening came round she was again on the alert, and again +resolved that she would not even yet give way. What was there in a +letter more than in a spoken word? She would tell Larry to disregard +the letter. But first she made a futile attempt to clutch the letter +from the guardianship of the Post Office, and she went to the +Postmaster assuring him that there had been a mistake in the family, +that a wrong letter had been put into a wrong envelope, and begging +that the letter addressed to Mr. Twentyman might be given back to +her. The Postmaster, half vacillating in his desire to oblige a +neighbour, produced the letter and Mrs. Masters put out her hand to +grasp it; but the servant of the public,—who had been thoroughly +grounded in his duties by one of those trusty guardians of our +correspondence who inspect and survey our provincial post +offices,—remembered himself at the last moment and expressing the +violence of his regret, replaced the letter in the box. Mrs. Masters, +in her anger and grief, condescended to say very hard things to her +neighbour;—but the man remembered his duty and was firm.</p> + +<p>On that evening Larry Twentyman did not attend the Dillsborough +Club,—having in the course of the week notified to the attorney that +he should be a defaulter. Mr. Masters himself went over earlier than +usual, his own house having become very uncomfortable to him. Mrs. +Masters for an hour sat expecting that Larry would come, and when the +evening passed away without his appearance, she was convinced that +the unusual absence was a part of the conspiracy against her.</p> + +<p>Larry did not get his letter till the Monday morning. On the last +Thursday and Saturday he had consoled himself for his doubts with the +U. R. U., and was minded to do so on the Monday also. He had not gone +to the club on Saturday and had moped about Chowton all the Sunday in +a feverish state because of his doubts. It seemed to him that the two +months would never be over. On the Monday he was out early on the +farm and then came down in his boots and breeches, and had his red +coat ready at the fire while he sat at breakfast. The meet was +fifteen miles off and he had sent on his hunter, intending to travel +thither in his dog cart. Just as he was cutting himself a slice of +beef the postman came, and of course he read his letter. He read it +with the carving knife in his hand, and then he stood gazing at his +mother. "What is it, Larry?" she asked; "is anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong,—well; I don't know," he said. "I don't know what you call +wrong. I shan't hunt; that's all." Then he threw aside the knife and +pushed away his plate and marched out of the room with the open +letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Twentyman knew very well of his love,—as indeed did nearly all +Dillsborough; but she had heard nothing of the two months and did not +connect the letter with Mary Masters. Surely he must have lost a +large sum of money. That was her idea till she saw him again late in +the afternoon.</p> + +<p>He never went near the hounds that day or near his business. He was +not then man enough for either. But he walked about the fields, +keeping out of sight of everybody. It was all over now. It must be +all over when she wrote to him a letter like that. Why had she +tempted him to thoughts of happiness and success by that promise of +two months' grace? He supposed that he was not good enough;—or that +she thought he was not good enough. Then he remembered his acres, and +his material comforts, and tried to console himself by reflecting +that Mary Masters might very well do worse in the world. But there +was no consolation in it. He had tried his best because he had really +loved the girl. He had failed, and all the world,—all his +world,—would know that he had failed. There was not a man in the +club,—hardly a man in the hunt,—who was not aware that he had +offered to Mary Masters. During the last two months he had not been +so reticent as was prudent, and had almost boasted to Fred Botsey of +success. And then how was he to live at Chowton Farm without Mary +Masters as his wife? As he returned home he almost made up his mind +that he would not continue to live at Chowton Farm.</p> + +<p>He came back through Dillsborough Wood; and there, prowling about, he +met Goarly. "Well, Mr. Twentyman," said the man, "I am making it all +straight now with his Lordship."</p> + +<p>"I don't care what you're doing," said Larry in his misery. "You are +an infernal blackguard and that's the best of you."</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-8" id="c2-8"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> +<h3>CHOWTON FARM FOR SALE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>John Morton had returned to town soon after his walk into +Dillsborough and had there learned from different sources that both +Arabella Trefoil and Lord Rufford had gone or were going to +Mistletoe. He had seen Lord Augustus who, though he could tell him +nothing else about his daughter, had not been slow to inform him that +she was going to the house of her noble uncle. When Morton had spoken +to him very seriously about the engagement he declared that he knew +nothing about it,—except that he had given his consent if the +settlements were all right. Lady Augustus managed all that. Morton +had then said that under those circumstances he feared he must regard +the honour which he had hoped to enjoy as being beyond his reach. +Lord Augustus had shrugged his shoulders and had gone back to his +whist, this interview having taken place in the strangers' room of +his club. That Lord Rufford was also going to Mistletoe he heard from +young Glossop at the Foreign Office. It was quite possible that +Glossop had been instructed to make this known to Morton by his +sister Lady Penwether. Then Morton declared that the thing was over +and that he would trouble himself no more about it. But this +resolution did not make him at all contented, and in his misery he +went again down to his solitude at Bragton.</p> + +<p>And now when he might fairly consider himself to be free, and when he +should surely have congratulated himself on a most lucky escape from +the great danger into which he had fallen, his love and admiration +for the girl returned to him in a most wonderful manner. He thought +of her beauty and her grace, and the manner in which she would sit at +the head of his table when the time should come for him to be +promoted to some great capital. To him she had fascinations which the +reader, who perhaps knows her better than he ever did, will not +share. He could forgive the coldness of her conduct to himself—he +himself not being by nature demonstrative or impassioned,—if only +she were not more kind to any rival. It was the fact that she should +be visiting at the same house with Lord Rufford after what he had +seen at Rufford Hall which had angered him. But now in his solitude +he thought that he might have been wrong at Rufford Hall. If it were +the case that the girl feared that her marriage might be prevented by +the operations of lawyers and family friends, of course she would be +right not to throw herself into his arms,—even metaphorically. He +was a cold, just man who, when he had loved, could not easily get rid +of his love, and now he would ask himself whether he was not hard +upon the girl. It was natural that she should be at Mistletoe; but +then why should Lord Rufford be there with her?</p> + +<p>His prospects at Patagonia did not console him much. No doubt it was +a handsome mission for a man of his age and there were sundry +Patagonian questions of importance at the present moment which would +give him a certain weight. Patagonia was repudiating a loan, and it +was hoped that he might induce a better feeling in the Patagonian +Parliament. There was the Patagonian railway for joining the Straits +to the Cape the details of which he was now studying with great +diligence. And then there was the vital question of boundary between +Patagonia and the Argentine Republic by settling which, should he be +happy enough to succeed in doing so, he would prevent the horrors of +warfare. He endeavoured to fix his mind with satisfaction on these +great objects as he pored over the reports and papers which had been +heaped upon him since he had accepted the mission. But there was +present to him always a feeling that the men at the Foreign Office +had been glad to get any respectable diplomate to go to Patagonia, +and that his brethren in the profession had marvelled at his +acceptance of such a mission. One never likes to be thanked over much +for doing anything. It creates a feeling that one has given more than +was expedient. He knew that he must now go to Patagonia, but he +repented the alacrity with which he had acceded to the proposition. +Whether he did marry Arabella Trefoil or whether he did not, there +was no adequate reason for such a banishment. And yet he could not +now escape it!</p> + +<p>It was on a Monday morning that Larry Twentyman had found himself +unable to go hunting. On the Tuesday he gave his workmen about the +farm such a routing as they had not received for many a month. There +had not been a dungheap or a cowshed which he had not visited, nor a +fence about the place with which he had not found fault. He was at it +all day, trying thus to console himself, but in vain; and when his +mother in the evening said some word of her misery in regard to the +turkeys he had told her that as far as he was concerned Goarly might +poison every fox in the county. Then the poor woman knew that matters +were going badly with her son. On the Wednesday, when the hounds met +within two miles of Chowton, he again stayed at home; but in the +afternoon he rode into Dillsborough and contrived to see the attorney +without being seen by any of the ladies of the family. The interview +did not seem to do him any good. On the Thursday morning he walked +across to Bragton and with a firm voice asked to see the Squire. +Morton who was deep in the boundary question put aside his papers and +welcomed his neighbour.</p> + +<p>Now it must be explained that when, in former years, his son's debts +had accumulated on old Mr. Reginald Morton, so that he had been +obliged to part with some portion of his unentailed property, he had +sold that which lay in the parish of St. John's, Dillsborough. The +lands in Bragton and Mallingham he could not sell;—but Chowton Farm +which was in St. John's had been bought by Larry Twentyman's +grandfather. For a time there had been some bitterness of feeling; +but the Twentymans had been well-to-do respectable people, most +anxious to be good neighbours, and had gradually made themselves +liked by the owner of Bragton. The present Squire had of course known +nothing of Chowton as a part of the Morton property, and had no more +desire for it than for any of Lord Rufford's acres which were +contiguous to his own. He shook hands cordially with his neighbour, +as though this visit were the most natural thing in the world, and +asked some questions about Goarly and the hunt.</p> + +<p>"I believe that'll all come square, Mr. Morton. I'm not interesting +myself much about it now." Larry was not dressed like himself. He had +on a dark brown coat, and dark pantaloons and a chimney-pot hat. He +was conspicuous generally for light-coloured close-fitting garments +and for a billycock hat. He was very unlike his usual self on the +present occasion.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were just the man who did interest himself about those +things."</p> + +<p>"Well; yes; once it was so, Mr. Morton. What I've got to say now, Mr. +Morton, is this. Chowton Farm is in the market! But I wouldn't say a +word to any one about it till you had had the offer."</p> + +<p>"You going to sell Chowton!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Morton, I am."</p> + +<p>"From all I have heard of you I wouldn't have believed it if anybody +else had told me."</p> + +<p>"It's a fact, Mr. Morton. There are three hundred and twenty acres. I +put the rental at 30<i>s.</i> an acre. You know what you get, Mr. Morton, +for the land that lies next to it. And I think twenty-eight years' +purchase isn't more than it's worth. Those are my ideas as to price, +Mr. Morton. There isn't a halfpenny owing on it—not in the way of +mortgage."</p> + +<p>"I dare say it's worth that."</p> + +<p>"Up at auction I might get a turn more, Mr. Morton;—but those are my +ideas at present."</p> + +<p>John Morton, who was a man of business, went to work at once with his +pencil and in two minutes had made out a total. "I don't know that I +could put my hand on £14,000 even if I were minded to make the +purchase."</p> + +<p>"That needn't stand in the way, sir. Any part you please could lie on +mortgage at 4½ per cent." Larry in the midst of his distress had +certain clear ideas about business.</p> + +<p>"This is a very serious proposition, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, sir."</p> + +<p>"Have you any other views in life?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say as I have any fixed. I shan't be idle, Mr. Morton. I +never was idle. I was thinking perhaps of New Zealand."</p> + +<p>"A very fine colony for a young man, no doubt. But, seeing how well +you are established <span class="nowrap">here—."</span></p> + +<p>"I can't stay here, Mr. Morton. I've made up my mind about that. +There are things which a man can't bear,—not and live quiet. As for +hunting, I don't care about it any more than—nothing."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that anything should have made you so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Well;—I am unhappy. That's about the truth of it. And I always +shall be unhappy here. There's nothing else for it but going away."</p> + +<p>"If it's anything sudden, Mr. Twentyman, allow me to say that you +ought not to sell your property without grave consideration."</p> + +<p>"I have considered it,—very grave, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"Ah,—but I mean long consideration. Take a year to think of it. You +can't buy such a place back in a year. I don't know you well enough +to be justified in inquiring into the circumstances of your +trouble;—but unless it be something which makes it altogether +inexpedient, or almost impossible that you should remain in the +neighbourhood, you should not sell Chowton."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Mr. Morton," said Larry almost weeping. Poor Larry +whether in his triumph or his sorrow had no gift of reticence and now +told his neighbour the whole story of his love. He was certain it had +become quite hopeless. He was sure that she would never have written +him a letter if there had been any smallest chance left. According to +his ideas a girl might say "no" half-a-dozen times and yet not mean +much; but when she had committed herself to a letter she could not go +back from it.</p> + +<p>"Is there anybody else?" asked Morton.</p> + +<p>"Not as I know. I never saw anything like—like lightness with her, +with any man. They said something about the curate but I don't +believe a word of it."</p> + +<p>"And the family approve of it?"</p> + +<p>"Every one of them,—father and stepmother and sisters and all. My +own mother too! There ain't a ha'porth against it. I don't want any +one to give me sixpence in money. And she should live just like a +lady. I can keep a servant for her to cook and do every mortal thing. +But it ain't nothing of all that, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"What is it then?"</p> + +<p>The poor man paused before he made his answer; but when he did, he +made it plain enough. "I ain't good enough for her! Nor more I ain't, +Mr. Morton. She was brought up in this house, Mr. Morton, by your own +grand-aunt."</p> + +<p>"So I have heard, Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"And there's more of Bragton than there is of Dillsborough about +her;—that's just where it is. I know what I am and I know what she +is, and I ain't good enough for her. It should be somebody that can +talk books to her. I can tell her how to plant a field of wheat or +how to run a foal;—but I can't sit and read poetry, nor yet be read +to. There's plenty of 'em would sell themselves because the land's +all there, and the house, and the things in it. What makes me mad is +that I should love her all the better because she won't. My belief +is, Mr. Morton, they're as poor as Job. That makes no difference to +me because I don't want it;—but it makes no difference to her +neither! She's right, Mr. Morton. I'm not good enough, and so I'll +just cut it as far as Dillsborough is concerned. You'll think of what +I said of taking the land?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Morton said much more to him, walking with him to the gate of +Chowton Farm. He assured him that the young lady might yet be won. He +had only, Morton said, to plead his case to her as well as he had +pleaded up at Bragton and he thought that she would be won. "I +couldn't speak out free to her,—not if it was to save the whole +place," said the unfortunate lover. But Morton still continued his +advice. As to leaving Chowton because a young lady refused him, that +would be unmanly—"There isn't a bit of a man left about me," said +Larry weeping. Morton nevertheless went on. Time would cure these +wounds; but no time would give him back Chowton should he once part +with it. If he must leave the place for a time let him put a +caretaker on the farm, even though by doing so the loss might be +great. He should do anything rather than surrender his house. As to +buying the land himself, Morton would not talk about it in the +present circumstances. Then they parted at Chowton gate with many +expressions of friendship on each side.</p> + +<p>John Morton, as he returned home, could not help thinking that the +young farmer's condition was after all better than his own. There was +an honesty about both the persons concerned of which at any rate they +might be proud. There was real love,—and though that love was not at +present happy it was of a nature to inspire perfect respect. But in +his own case he was sure of nothing.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-9" id="c2-9"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> +<h3>MISTLETOE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Arabella Trefoil started from London for Mistletoe, with no +companion but her own maid, she had given more serious consideration +to her visit than she had probably ever paid to any matter up to that +time. She had often been much in earnest but never so much in earnest +as now. Those other men had perhaps been worthy,—worthy as far as +her ideas went of worth,—but none of them so worthy as this man. +Everything was there if she could only get it;—money, rank, fashion, +and an appetite for pleasure. And he was handsome too, and +good-humoured, though these qualities told less with her than the +others. And now she was to meet him in the house of her great +relations,—in a position in which her rank and her fashion would +seem to be equal to his own. And she would meet him with the +remembrance fresh in his mind as in her own of those passages of love +at Rufford. It would be impossible that he should even seem to forget +them. The most that she could expect would be four or five days of +his company, and she knew that she must be upon her mettle. She must +do more now than she had ever attempted before. She must scruple at +nothing that might bind him. She would be in the house of her uncle +and that uncle a duke, and she thought that those facts might help to +quell him. And she would be there without her mother, who was so +often a heavy incubus on her shoulders. She thought of it all, and +made her plans carefully and even painfully. She would be at any rate +two days in the house before his arrival. During that time she would +curry favour with her uncle by all her arts, and would if possible +reconcile herself to her aunt. She thought once of taking her aunt +into her full confidence and balanced the matter much in her mind. +The Duchess, she knew, was afraid of her,—or rather afraid of the +relationship, and would of course be pleased to have all fears set at +rest by such an alliance. But her aunt was a woman who had never +suffered hardships, whose own marriage had been easily arranged, and +whose two daughters had been pleasantly married before they were +twenty years old. She had had no experience of feminine difficulties, +and would have no mercy for such labours as those to which her less +fortunate niece was driven. It would have been a great thing to have +the cordial co-operation of her aunt;—but she could not venture to +ask for it.</p> + +<p>She had stretched her means and her credit to the utmost in regard to +her wardrobe, and was aware that she had never been so well equipped +since those early days of her career in which her father and mother +had thought that her beauty, assisted by a generous expenditure, +would serve to dispose of her without delay. A generous expenditure +may be incurred once even by poor people, but cannot possibly be +maintained over a dozen years. Now she had taken the matter into her +own hands and had done that which would be ruinous if not successful. +She was venturing her all upon the die,—with the prospect of +drowning herself on the way out to Patagonia should the chances of +the game go against her. She forgot nothing. She could hardly hope +for more than one day's hunting and yet that had been provided for as +though she were going to ride with the hounds through all the +remainder of the season.</p> + +<p>When she reached Mistletoe there were people going and coming every +day, so that an arrival was no event. She was kissed by her uncle and +welcomed with characteristic coldness by her aunt, then allowed to +settle in among the other guests as though she had been there all the +winter. Everybody knew that she was a Trefoil and her presence +therefore raised no question. The Duchess of Omnium was among the +guests. The Duchess knew all about her and vouchsafed to her the +smallest possible recognition. Lady Chiltern had met her before, and +as Lady Chiltern was always generous, she was gracious to Arabella. +She was sorry to see Lady Drummond, because she connected Lady +Drummond with the Foreign Office and feared that the conversation +might be led to Patagonia and its new minister. She contrived to +squeeze her uncle's hand and to utter a word of warm thanks,—which +his grace did not perfectly understand. The girl was his niece and +the Duke had an idea that he should be kind to the family of which he +was the head. His brother's wife had become objectionable to him, but +as to the girl, if she wanted a home for a week or two, he thought it +to be his duty to give it to her.</p> + +<p>Mistletoe is an enormous house with a frontage nearly a quarter of a +mile long, combining as it does all the offices, coach houses, and +stables. There is nothing in England more ugly or perhaps more +comfortable. It stands in a huge park which, as it is quite flat, +never shows its size and is altogether unattractive. The Duke himself +was a hospitable, easy man who was very fond of his dinner and +performed his duties well; but could never be touched by any +sentiment. He always spent six months in the country, in which he +acted as landlord to a great crowd of shooting, hunting, and flirting +visitors, and six in London, in which he gave dinners and dined out +and regularly took his place in the House of Lords without ever +opening his mouth. He was a grey-haired comely man of sixty, with a +large body and a wonderful appetite. By many who understood the +subject he was supposed to be the best amateur judge of wine in +England. His son Lord Mistletoe was member for the county and as the +Duke had no younger sons he was supposed to be happy at all points. +Lord Mistletoe, who had a large family of his own, lived twenty miles +off,—so that the father and son could meet pleasantly without fear +of quarrelling.</p> + +<p>During the first evening Arabella did contrive to make herself very +agreeable. She was much quieter than had been her wont when at +Mistletoe before, and though there were present two or three very +well circumstanced young men she took but little notice of them. She +went out to dinner with Sir Jeffrey Bunker, and made herself +agreeable to that old gentleman in a remarkable manner. After dinner, +something having been said of the respectable old game called cat's +cradle, she played it to perfection with Sir Jeffrey,—till her aunt +thought that she must have been unaware that Sir Jeffrey had a wife +and family. She was all smiles and all pleasantness, and seemed to +want no other happiness than what the present moment gave her. Nor +did she once mention Lord Rufford's name.</p> + +<p>On the next morning after breakfast her aunt sent for her to come +up-stairs. Such a thing had never happened to her before. She could +not recollect that, on any of those annual visits which she had made +to Mistletoe for more years than she now liked to think of, she had +ever had five minutes' conversation alone with her aunt. It had +always seemed that she was to be allowed to come and go by reason of +her relationship, but that she was to receive no special mark of +confidence or affection. The message was whispered into her ear by +her aunt's own woman as she was listening with great attention to +Lady Drummond's troubles in regard to her nursery arrangements. She +nodded her head, heard a few more words from Lady Drummond, and then, +with a pretty apology and a statement made so that all should hear +her, that her aunt wanted her, followed the maid up-stairs. "My +dear," said her aunt, when the door was closed, "I want to ask you +whether you would like me to ask Mr. Morton to come here while you +are with us?" A thunderbolt at her feet could hardly have surprised +or annoyed her more. If there was one thing that she wanted less than +another it was the presence of the Paragon at Mistletoe. It would +utterly subvert everything and rob her of every chance. With a great +effort she restrained all emotion and simply shook her head. She did +it very well, and betrayed nothing. "I ask," said the Duchess, +"because I have been very glad to hear that you are engaged to marry +him. Lord Drummond tells me that he is a most respectable young man."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morton will be so much obliged to Lord Drummond."</p> + +<p>"And I thought that if it were so, you would be glad that he should +meet you here. I could manage it very well, as the Drummonds are +here, and Lord Drummond would be glad to meet him."</p> + +<p>They had not been above a minute or two together, and Arabella had +been called upon to expend her energy in suppressing any expression +of her horror; but still, by the time that she was called on to +speak, she had fabricated her story. "Thanks, aunt; it is so good of +you;—and if everything was going straight, there would be nothing of +course that I should like so much."</p> + +<p>"You are engaged to him?"</p> + +<p>"Well; I was going to tell you. I dare say it is not his fault; but +papa and mamma and the lawyers think that he is not behaving well +about money;—settlements and all that. I suppose it will all come +right; but in the meantime perhaps I had better not meet him."</p> + +<p>"But you were engaged to him?"</p> + +<p>This had to be answered without a moment's pause. "Yes," said +Arabella; "I was engaged to him."</p> + +<p>"And he is going out as minister to Patagonia almost immediately?"</p> + +<p>"He is going, I know."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will go with him?"</p> + +<p>This was very hard. She could not say that she certainly was not +going with him. And yet she had to remember that her coming campaign +with Lord Rufford must be carried on in part beneath her aunt's eyes. +When she had come to Mistletoe she had fondly hoped that none of the +family there would know anything about Mr. Morton. And now she was +called upon to answer these horrid questions without a moment's +notice! "I don't think I shall go with him, aunt; though I am unable +to say anything certain just at present. If he behaves badly of +course the engagement must be off."</p> + +<p>"I hope not. You should think of it very seriously. As for money, you +know, you have none of your own, and I am told that he has a very +nice property in Rufford. There is a neighbour of his coming here +to-morrow, and perhaps he knows him."</p> + +<p>"Who is the neighbour, aunt?" asked Arabella, innocently.</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford. He is coming to shoot. I will ask him about the +property."</p> + +<p>"Pray don't mention my name, aunt. It would be so unpleasant if +nothing were to come of it. I know Lord Rufford very well."</p> + +<p>"Know Lord Rufford very well!"</p> + +<p>"As one does know men that one meets about."</p> + +<p>"I thought it might settle everything if we had Mr. Morton here."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't meet him, aunt; I couldn't indeed. Mamma doesn't think +that he is behaving well." To the Duchess condemnation from Lady +Augustus almost amounted to praise. She felt sure that Mr. Morton was +a worthy man who would not probably behave badly, and though she +could not unravel the mystery, and certainly had no suspicion in +regard to Lord Rufford, she was sure that there was something wrong. +But there was nothing more to be said at present. After what Arabella +had told her Mr. Morton could not be asked there to meet her niece. +But all the slight feeling of kindness to the girl which had been +created by the tidings of so respectable an engagement were at once +obliterated from the Duchess's bosom. Arabella, with many expressions +of thanks and a good-humoured countenance, left the room, cursing the +untowardness of her fate which would let nothing run smooth.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford was to come. That at any rate was now almost certain. Up +to the present she had doubted, knowing the way in which such men +will change their engagements at the least caprice. But the Duchess +expected him on the morrow. She had prepared the way for meeting him +as an old friend without causing surprise, and had gained that step. +But should she succeed, as she hoped, in exacting continued homage +from the man,—homage for the four or five days of his sojourn at +Mistletoe,—this must be carried on with the knowledge on the part of +many in the house that she was engaged to that horrid Patagonian +Minister! Was ever a girl called upon to risk her entire fate under +so many disadvantages?</p> + +<p>When she went up to dress for dinner on the day of his expected +arrival Lord Rufford had not come. Since the interview in her aunt's +room she had not heard his name mentioned. When she came into the +drawing-room, a little late, he was not there. "We won't wait, +Duchess," said the Duke to his wife at three minutes past eight. The +Duke's punctuality at dinner-time was well known, and everybody else +was then assembled. Within two minutes after the Duke's word dinner +was announced, and a party numbering about thirty walked away into +the dinner-room. Arabella, when they were all settled, found that +there was a vacant seat next herself. If the man were to come, +fortune would have favoured her in that.</p> + +<p>The fish and soup had already disappeared and the Duke was wakening +himself to eloquence on the first entrée when Lord Rufford entered +the room. "There never were trains so late as yours, Duchess," he +said, "nor any part of the world in which hired horses travel so +slowly. I beg the Duke's pardon, but I suffer the less because I know +his Grace never waits for anybody."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said the Duke, "having some regard for my friends' +dinners."</p> + +<p>"And I find myself next to you," said Lord Rufford as he took his +seat. "Well; that is more than I deserve."</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-10" id="c2-10"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> +<h3>HOW THINGS WERE ARRANGED.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Jack is here," said Lord Rufford, as soon as the fuss of his late +arrival had worn itself away.</p> + +<p>"I shall be proud to renew my acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Can you come to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Arabella, rapturously.</p> + +<p>"There are difficulties, and I ought to have written to you about +them. I am going with the Fitzwilliam." Now Mistletoe was in +Lincolnshire, not very far from Peterborough, not very far from +Stamford, not very far from Oakham. A regular hunting man like Lord +Rufford knew how to compass the difficulties of distance in all +hunting countries. Horses could go by one train or overnight, and he +could follow by another. And a postchaise could meet him here or +there. But when a lady is added, the difficulty is often increased +fivefold.</p> + +<p>"Is it very far?" asked Arabella.</p> + +<p>"It is a little far. I wonder who are going from here?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven only knows. I have passed my time in playing cat's cradle +with Sir Jeffrey Bunker for the amusement of the company, and in +confidential communications with my aunt and Lady Drummond. I haven't +heard hunting mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Have you anything on wheels going across to Holcombe Cross +to-morrow, Duke?" asked Lord Rufford. The Duke said that he did not +know of anything on wheels going to Holcombe Cross. Then a hunting +man who had heard the question said that he and another intended to +travel by train to Oundle. Upon this Lord Rufford turned round and +looked at Arabella mournfully.</p> + +<p>"Cannot I go by train to Oundle?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing on earth so jolly if your pastors and masters and all that +will let you."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got any pastors and masters."</p> + +<p>"The Duchess!" suggested Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"I thought all that kind of nonsense was over," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"I believe a great deal is over. You can do many things that your +mother and grandmother couldn't do; but absolute freedom,—what you +may call universal suffrage,—hasn't come yet, I fear. It's twenty +miles by road, and the Duchess would say something awful if I were to +propose to take you in a postchaise."</p> + +<p>"But the railway!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that would be worse. We couldn't ride back, you know, as +we did at Rufford. At the best it would be rather a rough and tumble +kind of arrangement. I'm afraid we must put it off. To tell you the +truth I'm the least bit in the world afraid of the Duchess."</p> + +<p>"I am not at all," said Arabella, angrily.</p> + +<p>Then Lord Rufford ate his dinner and seemed to think that that matter +was settled. Arabella knew that he might have hunted elsewhere,—that +the Cottesmore would be out in their own county within twelve miles +of them, and that the difficulty of that ride would be very much +less. The Duke might have been persuaded to send a carriage that +distance. But Lord Rufford cared more about the chance of a good run +than her company! For a while she was sulky;—for a little while, +till she remembered how ill she could afford to indulge in such a +feeling. Then she said a demure word or two to the gentleman on the +other side of her who happened to be a clergyman, and did not return +to the hunting till Lord Rufford had eaten his cheese. "And is that +to be the end of Jack as far as I'm concerned?"</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking about it ever since. This is Thursday."</p> + +<p>"Not a doubt about it."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow will be Friday and the Duke has his great shooting on +Saturday. There's nothing within a hundred miles of us on Saturday. I +shall go with the Pytchley if I don't shoot, but I shall have to get +up just when other people are going to bed. That wouldn't suit you."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't mind if I didn't go to bed at all."</p> + +<p>"At any rate it wouldn't suit the Duchess. I had meant to go away on +Sunday. I hate being anywhere on Sunday except in a railway carriage. +But if I thought the Duke would keep me till Tuesday morning we might +manage Peltry on Monday. I meant to have got back to Surbiton's on +Sunday and have gone from there."</p> + +<p>"Where is Peltry?"</p> + +<p>"It's a Cottesmore meet,—about five miles this side of Melton."</p> + +<p>"We could ride from here."</p> + +<p>"It's rather far for that, but we could talk over the Duke to send a +carriage. Ladies always like to see a meet, and perhaps we could make +a party. If not we must put a good face on it and go in anything we +can get. I shouldn't fear the Duchess so much for twelve miles as I +should for twenty."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to let the Duchess interfere with me," said Arabella in +a whisper.</p> + +<p>That evening Lord Rufford was very good-natured and managed to +arrange everything. Lady Chiltern and another lady said that they +would be glad to go to the meet, and a carriage or carriages were +organised. But nothing was said as to Arabella's hunting because the +question would immediately be raised as to her return to Mistletoe in +the evening. It was, however, understood that she was to have a place +in the carriage.</p> + +<p>Arabella had gained two things. She would have her one day's hunting, +and she had secured the presence of Lord Rufford at Mistletoe for +Sunday. With such a man as his lordship it was almost impossible to +find a moment for confidential conversation. He worked so hard at his +amusements that he was as bad a lover as a barrister who has to be in +Court all day,—almost as bad as a sailor who is always going round +the world. On this evening it was ten o'clock before the gentlemen +came into the drawing-room, and then Lord Rufford's time was spent in +arranging the party for the meet on Monday. When the ladies went up +to bed Arabella had had no other opportunity than what Fortune had +given her at dinner.</p> + +<p>And even then she had been watched. That juxtaposition at the +dinner-table had come of chance and had been caused by Lord Rufford's +late arrival. Old Sir Jeffrey should have been her neighbour, with +the clergyman on the other side, an arrangement which Her Grace had +thought safe with reference to the rights of the Minister to +Patagonia. The Duchess, though she was at some distance down the +table, had seen that her niece and Lord Rufford were intimate, and +remembered immediately what had been said up-stairs. They could not +have talked as they were then talking,—sometimes whispering as the +Duchess could perceive very well,—unless there had been considerable +former intimacy. She began gradually to understand various +things;—why Arabella Trefoil had been so anxious to come to +Mistletoe just at this time, why she had behaved so unlike her usual +self before Lord Rufford's arrival, and why she had been so unwilling +to have Mr. Morton invited. The Duchess was in her way a clever woman +and could see many things. She could see that though her niece might +be very anxious to marry Lord Rufford, Lord Rufford might indulge +himself in a close intimacy with the girl without any such intention +on his part. And, as far as the family was concerned, she would have +been quite contented with the Morton alliance. She would have asked +Morton now only that it would be impossible that he should come in +time to be of service. Had she been consulted in the first instance +she would have put her veto on that drive to the meet: but she had +heard nothing about it until Lady Chiltern had said that she would +go. The Duchess of Omnium had since declared that she also would go, +and there were to be two carriages. But still it never occurred to +the Duchess that Arabella intended to hunt. Nor did Arabella intend +that she should know it till the morning came.</p> + +<p>The Friday was very dull. The hunting men of course had gone before +Arabella came down to breakfast. She would willingly have got up at +seven to pour out Lord Rufford's tea, had that been possible; but, as +it was, she strolled into the breakfast room at half-past ten. She +could see by her aunt's eye and hear in her voice that she was in +part detected; and that she would do herself no further service by +acting the good girl; and she therefore resolutely determined to +listen to no more twaddle. She read a French novel which she had +brought with her, and spent as much of the day as she could in her +bedroom. She did not see Lord Rufford before dinner, and at dinner +sat between Sir Jeffrey and an old gentleman out of Stamford who +dined at Mistletoe that evening. "We've had no such luck to-night," +Lord Rufford said to her in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"The old dragon took care of that," replied Arabella.</p> + +<p>"Why should the old dragon think that I'm dangerous?"</p> + +<p>"Because—; I can't very well tell you why, but I dare say you know."</p> + +<p>"And do you think I am dangerous?"</p> + +<p>"You're a sort of a five-barred gate," said Arabella laughing. "Of +course there is a little danger, but who is going to be stopped by +that?"</p> + +<p>He could make no reply to this because the Duchess called him away to +give some account to Lady Chiltern about Goarly and the U. R. U., +Lady Chiltern's husband being a master of hounds and a great +authority on all matters relating to hunting. "Nasty old dragon!" +Arabella said to herself when she was thus left alone.</p> + +<p>The Saturday was the day of the great shooting and at two o'clock the +ladies went out to lunch with the gentlemen by the side of the wood. +Lord Rufford had at last consented to be one of the party. With logs +of trees, a few hurdles, and other field appliances, a rustic +banqueting hall was prepared and everything was very nice. Tons of +game had been killed, and tons more were to be killed after luncheon. +The Duchess was not there and Arabella contrived so to place herself +that she could be waited upon by Lord Rufford, or could wait upon +him. Of course a great many eyes were upon her, but she knew how to +sustain that. Nobody was present who could dare to interfere with +her. When the eating and drinking were over she walked with him to +his corner by the next covert, not heeding the other ladies; and she +stood with him for some minutes after the slaughter had begun. She +had come to feel that the time was slipping between her fingers and +that she must say something effective. The fatal word upon which +everything would depend must be spoken at the very latest on their +return home on Monday, and she was aware that much must probably be +said before that. "Do we hunt or shoot to-morrow?" she said.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow is Sunday."</p> + +<p>"I am quite aware of that, but I didn't know whether you could live a +day without sport."</p> + +<p>"The country is so full of prejudice that I am driven to Sabbatical +quiescence."</p> + +<p>"Take a walk with me to-morrow," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"But the Duchess?" exclaimed Lord Rufford in a stage whisper. One of +the beaters was so near that he could not but have heard;—but what +does a beater signify?</p> + +<p>"H'mh'm the Duchess! You be at the path behind the great conservatory +at half-past three and we won't mind the Duchess." Lord Rufford was +forced to ask for many other particulars as to the locality and then +promised that he would be there at the time named.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-11" id="c2-11"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> +<h3>"YOU ARE SO SEVERE."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the next morning Arabella went to church as did of course a great +many of the party. By remaining at home she could only have excited +suspicion. The church was close to the house, and the family pew +consisted of a large room screened off from the rest of the church, +with a fire-place of its own,—so that the labour of attending divine +service was reduced to a minimum. At two o'clock they lunched, and +that amusement lasted nearly an hour. There was an afternoon service +at three in attending which the Duchess was very particular. The Duke +never went at that time nor was it expected that any of the gentlemen +would do so; but women are supposed to require more church than men, +and the Duchess rather made it a point that at any rate the young +ladies staying in the house should accompany her. Over the other +young ladies there her authority could only be that of influence, but +such authority generally sufficed. From her niece it might be +supposed that she would exact obedience, and in this instance she +tried it. "We start in five minutes," she said to Arabella as that +young lady was loitering at the table.</p> + +<p>"Don't wait for me, aunt; I'm not going," said Arabella boldly.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will come to church with us," said the Duchess sternly.</p> + +<p>"Not this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Why not, Arabella?"</p> + +<p>"I never do go to church twice on Sundays. Some people do, and some +people don't. I suppose that's about it."</p> + +<p>"I think that all young women ought to go to church on Sunday +afternoon unless there is something particular to prevent them." +Arabella shrugged her shoulders and the Duchess stalked angrily away.</p> + +<p>"That makes me feel so awfully wicked," said the Duchess of Omnium, +who was the only other lady then left in the room. Then she got up +and went out and Arabella of course followed her. Lord Rufford had +heard it all but had stood at the window and said nothing. He had not +been to church at all, and was quite accustomed to the idea that as a +young nobleman who only lived for pleasure he was privileged to be +wicked. Had the Duchess of Mayfair been blessed with a third daughter +fit for marriage she would not have thought of repudiating such a +suitor as Lord Rufford because he did not go to church.</p> + +<p>When the house was cleared Arabella went upstairs and put on her hat. +It was a bright beautiful winter's day, not painfully cold because +the air was dry, but still a day that warranted furs and a muff. +Having prepared herself she made her way alone to a side door which +led from a branch of the hall on to the garden terrace, and up and +down that she walked two or three times,—so that any of the +household that saw her might perceive that she had come out simply +for exercise. At the end of the third turn instead of coming back she +went on quickly to the conservatory and took the path which led round +to the further side. There was a small lawn here fitted for garden +games, and on the other end of it an iron gate leading to a path into +the woods. At the further side of the iron gate and leaning against +it, stood Lord Rufford smoking a cigar. She did not pause a moment +but hurried across the lawn to join him. He opened the gate and she +passed through. "I'm not going to be done by a dragon," she said as +she took her place alongside of him.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Miss Trefoil, I don't think I ever knew a human being +with so much pluck as you have got."</p> + +<p>"Girls have to have pluck if they don't mean to be sat upon;—a great +deal more than men. The idea of telling me that I was to go to church +as though I were twelve years old!"</p> + +<p>"What would she say if she knew that you were walking here with me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care what she'd say. I dare say she walked with somebody +once;—only I should think the somebody must have found it very +dull."</p> + +<p>"Does she know that you're to hunt to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't told her and don't mean. I shall just come down in my +habit and hat and say nothing about it. At what time must we start?"</p> + +<p>"The carriages are ordered for half-past nine. But I'm afraid you +haven't clearly before your eyes all the difficulties which are +incidental to hunting."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"It looks as like a black frost as anything I ever saw in my life."</p> + +<p>"But we should go?"</p> + +<p>"The horses won't be there if there is a really hard frost. Nobody +would stir. It will be the first question I shall ask the man when he +comes to me, and if there have been seven or eight degrees of frost I +shan't get up."</p> + +<p>"How am I to know?"</p> + +<p>"My man shall tell your maid. But everybody will soon know all about +it. It will alter everything."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall go mad."</p> + +<p>"In white satin?"</p> + +<p>"No;—in my habit and hat. It will be the hardest thing, after all! I +ought to have insisted on going to Holcombe Cross on Friday. The sun +is shining now. Surely it cannot freeze."</p> + +<p>"It will be uncommonly ill-bred if it does."</p> + +<p>But, after all, the hunting was not the main point. The hunting had +been only intended as an opportunity; and if that were to be +lost,—in which case Lord Rufford would no doubt at once leave +Mistletoe,—there was the more need for using the present hour, the +more for using even the present minute. Though she had said that the +sun was shining, it was the setting sun, and in another half hour the +gloom of the evening would be there. Even Lord Rufford would not +consent to walk about with her in the dark. "Oh, Lord Rufford," she +said, "I did so look forward to your giving me another lead." Then +she put her hand upon his arm and left it there.</p> + +<p>"It would have been nice," said he, drawing her hand a little on, and +remembering as he did so his own picture of himself on the cliff with +his sister holding his coat-tails.</p> + +<p>"If you could possibly know," she said, "the condition I am in."</p> + +<p>"What condition?"</p> + +<p>"I know that I can trust you. I am sure that I can trust you."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, yes. If you mean about telling, I never tell anything."</p> + +<p>"That's what I do mean. You remember that man at your place?"</p> + +<p>"What man? Poor Caneback?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no! I wish they could change places because then he could +give me no more trouble."</p> + +<p>"That's wishing him to be dead, whoever he is."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why should he persecute me? I mean that man we were staying +with at Bragton."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. Don't you remember your asking me about him, and my +telling you that I was not engaged to him?"</p> + +<p>"I remember that."</p> + +<p>"Mamma and this horrid old Duchess here want me to marry him. They've +got an idea that he is going to be ambassador at Pekin or something +very grand, and they're at me day and night."</p> + +<p>"You needn't take him unless you like him."</p> + +<p>"They do make me so miserable!" And then she leaned heavily upon his +arm. He was a man who could not stand such pressure as this without +returning it. Though he were on the precipice, and though he must go +over, still he could not stand it. "You remember that night after the +ball?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do."</p> + +<p>"And you too had asked me whether I cared for that horrid man."</p> + +<p>"I didn't see anything horrid. You had been staying at his house and +people had told me. What was I to think?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to have known what to think. There; let me go,"—for now +he had got his arm round her waist. "You don't care for me a bit. I +know you don't. It would be all the same to you whom I married;—or +whether I died."</p> + +<p>"You don't think that, Bella?" He fancied that he had heard her +mother call her Bella, and that the name was softer and easier than +the full four syllables. It was at any rate something for her to have +gained.</p> + +<p>"I do think it. When I came here on purpose to have a skurry over the +country with you, you went away to Holcombe Cross though you could +have hunted here, close in the neighbourhood. And now you tell me +there will be a frost to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Can I help that, darling?"</p> + +<p>"Darling! I ain't your darling. You don't care a bit for me. I +believe you hope there'll be a frost." He pressed her tighter, but +laughed as he did so. It was evidently a joke to him;—a pleasant +joke no doubt. "Leave me alone, Lord Rufford. I won't let you, for I +know you don't love me." Very suddenly he did leave his hold of her +and stood erect with his hands in his pockets, for the rustle of a +dress was heard. It was still daylight, but the light was dim and the +last morsel of the grandeur of the sun had ceased to be visible +through the trees. The church-going people had been released, and the +Duchess having probably heard certain tidings, had herself come to +take a walk in the shrubbery behind the conservatory. Arabella had +probably been unaware that she and her companion by a turn in the +walks were being brought back towards the iron gate. As it was they +met the Duchess face to face.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford had spoken the truth when he had said that he was a +little afraid of the Duchess. Such was his fear that at the moment he +hardly knew what he was to say. Arabella had boasted when she had +declared that she was not at all afraid of her aunt;—but she was +steadfastly minded that she would not be cowed by her fears. She had +known beforehand that she would have occasion for much presence of +mind, and was prepared to exercise it at a moment's notice. She was +the first to speak. "Is that you, aunt? you are out of church very +soon."</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford," said the Duchess, "I don't think this is a proper +time for walking out."</p> + +<p>"Don't you, Duchess? The air is very nice."</p> + +<p>"It is becoming dark and my niece had better return to the house with +me. Arabella, you can come this way. It is just as short as the +other. If you go on straight, Lord Rufford, it will take you to the +house." Of course Lord Rufford went on straight and of course +Arabella had to turn with her aunt. "Such conduct as this is +shocking," began the Duchess.</p> + +<p>"Aunt, let me tell you."</p> + +<p>"What can you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I can tell you a great deal if you will let me. Of course I am quite +prepared to own that I did not intend to tell you anything."</p> + +<p>"I can well believe that."</p> + +<p>"Because I could hardly hope for your sympathy. You have never liked +me."</p> + +<p>"You have no right to say that."</p> + +<p>"I don't do it in the way of finding fault. I don't know why you +should. But I have been too much afraid of you to tell you my +secrets. I must do so now because you have found me walking with Lord +Rufford. I could not otherwise excuse myself."</p> + +<p>"Is he engaged to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"He has asked me."</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"But he has, aunt. You must be a little patient and let me tell it +you all. Mamma did make up an engagement between me and Mr. Morton at +Washington."</p> + +<p>"Did you know Lord Rufford then?"</p> + +<p>"I knew him, but did not think he was behaving quite well. It is very +hard sometimes to know what a man means. I was angry when I went to +Washington. He has told me since that he loves me,—and has offered."</p> + +<p>"But you are engaged to marry the other man."</p> + +<p>"Nothing on earth shall make me marry Mr. Morton. Mamma did it, and +mamma now has very nearly broken it off because she says he is very +shabby about money. Indeed it is broken off. I had told him so even +before Lord Rufford had proposed to me."</p> + +<p>"When did he propose and where?"</p> + +<p>"At Rufford. We were staying there in November."</p> + +<p>"And you asked to come here that you might meet him?"</p> + +<p>"Just so. Was that strange? Where could I be better pleased to meet +him than in my own uncle's house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—if you had told us all this before."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I ought; but you are so severe, that I did not dare. Do not +turn against me now. My uncle could not but like that his niece +should marry Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"How can I turn against you if it is settled? Lord Rufford can do as +he pleases. Has he told your father,—or your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma knows it."</p> + +<p>"But not from him?" asked the Duchess.</p> + +<p>Arabella paused a moment but hardly a moment before she answered. It +was hard upon her that she should have to make up her mind on matters +of such importance with so little time for consideration. "Yes," she +said; "mamma knows it from him. Papa is so very indifferent about +everything that Lord Rufford has not spoken to him."</p> + +<p>"If so, it will be best that the Duke should speak to him."</p> + +<p>There was another pause, but hardly long enough to attract notice. +"Perhaps so," she said;—"but not quite yet. He is so peculiar, so +touchy. The Duke is not quite like my father and he would think +himself suspected."</p> + +<p>"I cannot imagine that if he is in earnest."</p> + +<p>"That is because you do not know him as I do. Only think where I +should be if I were to lose him!"</p> + +<p>"Lose him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, aunt, now that you know it I do hope that you will be my friend. +It would kill me if he were to throw me over."</p> + +<p>"But why should he throw you over if he proposed to you only last +month?"</p> + +<p>"He might do it if he thought that he were interfered with. Of course +I should like my uncle to speak to him, but not quite immediately. If +he were to say that he had changed his mind, what could I do, or what +could my uncle do?"</p> + +<p>"That would be very singular conduct."</p> + +<p>"Men are so different now, aunt. They give themselves so much more +latitude. A man has only to say that he has changed his mind and +nothing ever comes of it."</p> + +<p>"I have never been used to such men, my dear."</p> + +<p>"At any rate do not ask the Duke to speak to him to-day. I will think +about it and perhaps you will let me see you to-morrow, after we all +come in." To this the Duchess gravely assented. "And I hope you won't +be angry because you found me walking with him, or because I did not +go to church. It is everything to me. I am sure, dear aunt, you will +understand that." To this the Duchess made no reply, and they both +entered the house together. What became of Lord Rufford neither of +them saw.</p> + +<p>Arabella when she regained her room thought that upon the whole +fortune had favoured her by throwing her aunt in her way. She had, no +doubt, been driven to tell a series of barefaced impudent lies,—lies +of such a nature that they almost made her own hair stand on end as +she thought of them;—but they would matter nothing if she succeeded; +and if she failed in this matter she did not care much what her aunt +thought of her. Her aunt might now do her a good turn; and some lies +she must have told;—such had been the emergencies of her position! +As she thought of it all she was glad that her aunt had met her; and +when Lord Rufford was summoned to take her out to dinner on that very +Sunday,—a matter as to which her aunt managed everything +herself,—she was immediately aware that her lies had done her good +service.</p> + +<p>"This was more than I expected," Lord Rufford said when they were +seated.</p> + +<p>"She knew that she had overdone it when she sent you away in that +cavalier way," replied Arabella, "and now she wants to show that she +didn't mean anything."</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-12" id="c2-12"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> +<h3>THE DAY AT PELTRY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The Duchess did tell the Duke the whole story about Lord Rufford and +Arabella that night,—as to which it may be said that she also was +false. But according to her conscience there were two ways of telling +such a secret. As a matter of course she told her husband everything. +That idle placid dinner-loving man was in truth consulted about each +detail of the house and family;—but the secret was told to him with +injunctions that he was to say nothing about it to any one for +twenty-four hours. After that the Duchess was of opinion that he +should speak to Lord Rufford. "What could I say to him?" asked the +Duke. "I'm not her father."</p> + +<p>"But your brother is so indifferent."</p> + +<p>"No doubt. But that gives me no authority. If he does mean to marry +the girl he must go to her father;—or it is possible that he might +come to me. But if he does not mean it, what can I do?" He promised, +however, that he would think of it.</p> + +<p>It was still dark night, or the morning was still dark as night, when +Arabella got out of bed and opened her window. The coming of a frost +now might ruin her. The absence of it might give her everything in +life that she wanted. Lord Rufford had promised her a tedious +communication through servants as to the state of the weather. She +was far too energetic, far too much in earnest, to wait for that. She +opened the window and putting out her hand she felt a drizzle of +rain. And the air, though the damp from it seemed to chill her all +through, was not a frosty air. She stood there a minute so as to be +sure and then retreated to her bed.</p> + +<p>Fortune was again favouring her;—but then how would it be if it +should turn to hard rain? In that case Lady Chiltern and the other +ladies certainly would not go, and how in such case should she get +herself conveyed to the meet? She would at any rate go down in her +hat and habit and trust that somebody would provide for her. There +might be much that would be disagreeable and difficult, but hardly +anything could be worse than the necessity of telling such lies as +those which she had fabricated on the previous afternoon.</p> + +<p>She had been much in doubt whether her aunt had or had not believed +her. That the belief was not a thorough belief she was almost +certain. But then there was the great fact that after the story had +been told she had been sent out to dinner leaning on Lord Rufford's +arm. Unless her aunt had believed something that would not have taken +place. And then so much of it was true. Surely it would be impossible +that he should not propose after what had occurred! Her aunt was +evidently alive to the advantage of the marriage,—to the advantage +which would accrue not to her, Arabella, individually, but to the +Trefoils generally. She almost thought that her aunt would not put +spokes in her wheel for this day. She wished now that she had told +her aunt that she intended to hunt, so that there need not be any +surprise.</p> + +<p>She slept again and again looked out of the window. It rained a +little but still there were hours in which the rain might cease. +Again she slept and at eight her maid brought her word that there +would be hunting. It did rain a little but very little. Of course she +would dress herself in riding attire.</p> + +<p>At nine o'clock she walked into the breakfast parlour properly +equipped for the day's sport. There were four or five men there in +red coats and top boots, among whom Lord Rufford was conspicuous. +They were just seating themselves at the breakfast table, and her +aunt was already in her place. Lady Chiltern had come into the room +with herself, and at the door had spoken some good-natured words of +surprise. "I did not know that you were a sportswoman, Miss Trefoil." +"I do ride a little when I am well mounted," Arabella had said as she +entered the room. Then she collected herself, and arranged her +countenance, and endeavoured to look as though she were doing the +most ordinary thing in the world. She went round the room and kissed +her aunt's brow. This she had not done on any other morning; but then +on other mornings she had been late. "Are you going to ride?" said +the Duchess.</p> + +<p>"I believe so, aunt."</p> + +<p>"Who is giving you a horse?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford is lending me one. I don't think even his good-nature +will extend to giving away so perfect an animal. I know him well for +I rode him when I was at Rufford." This she said so that all the room +should hear her.</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid, Duchess," said Lord Rufford. "He is quite +safe."</p> + +<p>"And his name is Jack," said Arabella laughing as she took her place +with a little air of triumph. "Lord Rufford offered to let me have +him all the time I was here, but I didn't know whether you would take +me in so attended."</p> + +<p>There was not one who heard her who did not feel that she spoke as +though Lord Rufford were all her own. Lord Rufford felt it himself +and almost thought he might as well turn himself round and bid his +sister and Miss Penge let him go. He must marry some day and why +should not this girl do as well as any one else? The Duchess did not +approve of young ladies hunting. She certainly would not have had her +niece at Mistletoe had she expected such a performance. But she could +not find fault now. There was a feeling in her bosom that if there +were an engagement it would be cruel to cause obstructions. She +certainly could not allow a lover in her house for her husband's +niece without having official authenticated knowledge of the +respectability of the lover;—but the whole thing had come upon her +so suddenly that she was at a loss what to do or what to say. It +certainly did not seem to her that Arabella was in the least afraid +of being found out in any untruth. If the girl were about to become +Lady Rufford then it would be for Lord Rufford to decide whether or +no she should hunt. Soon after this the Duke came in and he also +alluded to his niece's costume and was informed that she was to ride +one of Lord Rufford's horses. "I didn't hear it mentioned before," +said the Duke. "He'll carry Miss Trefoil quite safely," said Lord +Rufford who was at the moment standing over a game pie on the +sideboard. Then the subject was allowed to drop.</p> + +<p>At half-past nine there was no rain, and the ladies were so nearly +punctual that the carriages absolutely started at ten. Some of the +men rode on; one got a seat on the carriage; and Lord Rufford drove +himself and a friend in a dog-cart, tandem. The tandem was off before +the carriages, but Lord Rufford assured them that he would get the +master to allow them a quarter of an hour. Arabella contrived to say +one word to him. "If you start without me I'll never speak to you +again." He nodded and smiled; but perhaps thought that if so it might +be as well that he should start without waiting for her.</p> + +<p>At the last moment the Duchess had taken it into her head that she +too would go to the meet. No doubt she was actuated by some feeling +in regard to her niece; but it was not till Arabella was absolutely +getting on to Jack at the side of the carriage,—under the auspices +of Jack's owner,—that the idea occurred to her Grace that there +would be a great difficulty as to the return home. "Arabella, how do +you mean to get back?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"That will be all right, aunt," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"I will see to that," said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>The gracious but impatient master of the hounds had absolutely waited +full twenty minutes for the Duchess's party;—and was not minded to +wait a minute longer for conversation. The moment that the carriages +were there the huntsmen had started so that there was an excuse for +hurry. Lord Rufford as he was speaking got on to his own horse, and +before the Duchess could expostulate they were away. There was a +feeling of triumph in Arabella's bosom as she told herself that she +had at any rate secured her day's hunting in spite of such +heart-breaking difficulties.</p> + +<p>The sport was fairly good. They had twenty minutes in the morning and +a kill. Then they drew a big wood during which they ate their lunch +and drank their sherry. In the big wood they found a fox but could +not do anything with him. After that they came on a third in a +stubble field and ran him well for half an hour, when he went to +ground. It was then three o'clock; and as the days were now at the +shortest the master declined to draw again. They were then about +sixteen miles from Mistletoe, and about ten from Stamford where Lord +Rufford's horses were standing. The distance from Stamford to +Mistletoe was eight. Lord Rufford proposed that they should ride to +Stamford and then go home in a hired carriage. There seemed indeed to +be no other way of getting home without taking three tired horses +fourteen miles out of their way. Arabella made no objection whatever +to the arrangement. Lord Rufford did in truth make a slight +effort,—the slightest possible,—to induce a third person to join +their party. There was still something pulling at his coat-tail, so +that there might yet be a chance of saving him from the precipice. +But he failed. The tired horseman before whom the suggestion was +casually thrown out, would have been delighted to accept it, instead +of riding all the way to Mistletoe;—but he did not look upon it as +made in earnest. Two, he knew, were company and three none.</p> + +<p>The hunting field is by no means a place suited for real love-making. +Very much of preliminary conversation may be done there in a pleasant +way, and intimacies may be formed. But when lovers have already +walked with arms round each other in a wood, riding together may be +very pleasant but can hardly be ecstatic. Lord Rufford might indeed +have asked her to be Lady R. while they were breaking up the first +fox, or as they loitered about in the big wood;—but she did not +expect that. There was no moment during the day's sport in which she +had a right to tell herself that he was misbehaving because he did +not so ask her. But in a postchaise it would be different.</p> + +<p>At the inn at Stamford the horses were given up, and Arabella +condescended to take a glass of cherry brandy. She had gone through a +long day; it was then half-past four, and she was not used to be many +hours on horseback. The fatigue seemed to her to be very much greater +than it had been when she got back to Rufford immediately after the +fatal accident. The ten miles along the road, which had been done in +little more than an hour, had almost overcome her. She had determined +not to cry for mercy as the hard trot went on. She had passed herself +off as an accustomed horsewoman, and having done so well across the +country, would not break down coming home. But, as she got into the +carriage, she was very tired. She could almost have cried with +fatigue;—and yet she told herself that now,—now,—must the work be +done. She would perhaps tell him that she was tired. She might even +assist her cause by her languor;—but, though she should die for it, +she would not waste her precious moments by absolute rest. "May I +light a cigar?" he said as he got in.</p> + +<p>"You know you may. Wherever I may be with you do you think that I +would interfere with your gratifications?"</p> + +<p>"You are the best girl in all the world," he said as he took out his +case and threw himself back in the corner.</p> + +<p>"Do you call that a long day?" she asked when he had lit his cigar.</p> + +<p>"Not very long."</p> + +<p>"Because I am so tired."</p> + +<p>"We came home pretty sharp. I thought it best not to shock her Grace +by too great a stretch into the night. As it is you will have time to +go to bed for an hour or two before you dress. That's what I do when +I am in time. You'll be right as a trivet then."</p> + +<p>"Oh; I'm right now,—only tired. It was very nice."</p> + +<p>"Pretty well. We ought to have killed that last fox. And why on earth +we made nothing of that fellow in Gooseberry Grove I couldn't +understand. Old Tony would never have left that fox alive above +ground. Would you like to go to sleep?"</p> + +<p>"O dear no."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of gloves?" said he, drawing nearer to her. They might pull +him as they liked by his coat-tails but as he was in a postchaise +with her he must make himself agreeable. She shook her head and +laughed as she looked at him through the gloom. Then of course he +kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford, what does this mean?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know what it means?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly."</p> + +<p>"It means that I think you the jolliest girl out. I never liked +anybody so well as I do you."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you never liked anybody," said she.</p> + +<p>"Well;—yes, I have; but I am not going to boast of what fortune has +done for me in that way. I wonder whether you care for me?"</p> + +<p>"Do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to know. You have never said that you did."</p> + +<p>"Because you have never asked me."</p> + +<p>"Am I not asking you now, Bella?"</p> + +<p>"There are different ways of asking,—but there is only one way that +will get an answer from me. No;—no. I will not have it. I have +allowed too much to you already. Oh, I am so tired." Then she sank +back almost into his arms,—but recovered herself very quickly. "Lord +Rufford," she said, "if you are a man of honour let there be an end +of this. I am sure you do not wish to make me wretched."</p> + +<p>"I would do anything to make you happy."</p> + +<p>"Then tell me that you love me honestly, sincerely, with all your +heart,—and I shall be happy."</p> + +<p>"You know I do."</p> + +<p>"Do you? Do you?" she said, and then she flung herself on to his +shoulder, and for a while she seemed to faint. For a few minutes she +lay there and as she was lying she calculated whether it would be +better to try at this moment to drive him to some clearer +declaration, or to make use of what he had already said without +giving him an opportunity of protesting that he had not meant to make +her an offer of marriage. He had declared that he loved her honestly +and with his whole heart. Would not that justify her in setting her +uncle at him? And might it not be that the Duke would carry great +weight with him;—that the Duke might induce him to utter the fatal +word though she, were she to demand it now, might fail? As she +thought of it all she affected to swoon, and almost herself believed +that she was swooning. She was conscious but hardly more than +conscious that he was kissing her;—and yet her brain was at work. +She felt that he would be startled, repelled, perhaps disgusted were +she absolutely to demand more from him now. "Oh, Rufford;—oh, my +dearest," she said as she woke up, and with her face close to his, so +that he could look into her eyes and see their brightness even +through the gloom. Then she extricated herself from his embrace with +a shudder and a laugh. "You would hardly believe how tired I am," she +said putting out her ungloved hand. He took it and drew her to him +and there she sat in his arms for the short remainder of the journey.</p> + +<p>They were now in the park, and as the lights of the house came in +sight he gave her some counsel. "Go up to your room at once, dearest, +and lay down."</p> + +<p>"I will. I don't think I could go in among them. I should fall."</p> + +<p>"I will see the Duchess and tell her that you are all right,—but +very tired. If she goes up to you you had better see her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. But I had rather not."</p> + +<p>"She'll be sure to come. And, Bella, Jack must be yours now."</p> + +<p>"You are joking."</p> + +<p>"Never more serious in my life. Of course he must remain with me just +at present, but he is your horse." Then, as the carriage was +stopping, she took his hand and kissed it.</p> + +<p>She got to her room as quickly as possible; and then, before she had +even taken off her hat, she sat down to think of it all,—sending her +maid away meanwhile to fetch her a cup of tea. He must have meant it +for an offer. There had at any rate been enough to justify her in so +taking it. The present he had made to her of the horse could mean +nothing else. Under no other circumstances would it be possible that +she should either take the horse or use him. Certainly it was an +offer, and as such she would instruct her uncle to use it. Then she +allowed her imagination to revel in thoughts of Rufford Hall, of the +Rufford house in town, and a final end to all those weary labours +which she would thus have brought to so glorious a termination.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-13" id="c2-13"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> +<h3>LORD RUFFORD WANTS TO SEE A HORSE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lord Rufford had been quite right about the Duchess. Arabella had +only taken off her hat and was drinking her tea when the Duchess came +up to her. "Lord Rufford says that you were too tired to come in," +said the Duchess.</p> + +<p>"I am tired, aunt;—very tired. But there is nothing the matter with +me. We had to ride ever so far coming home and it was that knocked me +up."</p> + +<p>"It was very bad, your coming home with him in a postchaise, +Arabella."</p> + +<p>"Why was it bad, aunt? I thought it very nice."</p> + +<p>"My dear, it shouldn't have been done. You ought to have known that. +I certainly wouldn't have had you here had I thought that there would +be anything of the kind."</p> + +<p>"It is going to be all right," said Arabella laughing.</p> + +<p>According to her Grace's view of things it was not and could not be +made "all right." It would not have been all right were the girl to +become Lady Rufford to-morrow. The scandal, or loud reproach due to +evil doings, may be silenced by subsequent conduct. The merited +punishment may not come visibly. But nothing happening after could +make it right that a young lady should come home from hunting in a +postchaise alone with a young unmarried man. When the Duchess first +heard it she thought what would have been her feelings if such a +thing had been suggested in reference to one of her own daughters! +Lord Rufford had come to her in the drawing-room and had told her the +story in a quiet pleasant manner,—merely saying that Miss Trefoil +was too much fatigued to show herself at the present moment. She had +thought from his manner that her niece's story had been true. There +was a cordiality and apparent earnestness as to the girl's comfort +which seemed to be compatible with the story. But still she could +hardly understand that Lord Rufford should wish to have it known that +he travelled about the country in such a fashion with the girl he +intended to marry. But if it were true, then she must look after her +niece. And even if it were not true,—in which case she would never +have the girl at Mistletoe again,—yet she could not ignore her +presence in the house. It was now the 18th of January. Lord Rufford +was to go on the following day, and Arabella on the 20th. The +invitation had not been given so as to stretch beyond that. If it +could be at once decided,—declared by Lord Rufford to the +Duke,—that the match was to be a match, then the invitation should +be renewed, Arabella should be advised to put off her other friends, +and Lord Rufford should be invited to come back early in the next +month and spend a week or two in the proper fashion with his future +bride. All that had been settled between the Duke and the Duchess. So +much should be done for the sake of the family. But the Duke had not +seen his way to asking Lord Rufford any question.</p> + +<p>The Duchess must now find out the truth if she could,—so that if the +story were false she might get rid of the girl and altogether shake +her off from the Mistletoe roof tree. Arabella's manner was certainly +free from any appearance of hesitation or fear. "I don't know about +being all right," said the Duchess. "It cannot be right that you +should have come home with him alone in a hired carriage."</p> + +<p>"Is a hired carriage wickeder than a private one?"</p> + +<p>"If a carriage had been sent from here for you, it would have been +different;—but even then he should not have come with you."</p> + +<p>"But he would I'm sure;—and I should have asked him. What;—the man +I'm engaged to marry! Mayn't he sit in a carriage with me?"</p> + +<p>The Duchess could not explain herself, and thought that she had +better drop that topic. "What does he mean to do now, Arabella?"</p> + +<p>"What does who mean, aunt?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"He means to marry me. And he means to go from here to Mr. Surbiton's +to-morrow. I don't quite understand the question."</p> + +<p>"And what do you mean to do?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to marry him. And I mean to join mamma in London on +Wednesday. I believe we are to go to the Connop Green's the next day. +Mr. Connop Green is a sort of cousin of mamma;—but they are odious +people."</p> + +<p>"Who is to see Lord Rufford? However, my dear, if you are very tired, +I will leave you now."</p> + +<p>"No, aunt. Stay a moment if you will be so very kind. I am tired; but +if I were twice as tired I would find strength to talk about this. If +my uncle would speak to Lord Rufford at once I should take it as the +very kindest thing he could do. I could not send him to my uncle; +for, after all, one's uncle and one's father are not the same. I +could only refer him to papa. But if the Duke would speak to him!"</p> + +<p>"Did he renew his offer to-day?"</p> + +<p>"He has done nothing else but renew it ever since he has been in the +carriage with me. That's the plain truth. He made his offer at +Rufford. He renewed it in the wood yesterday;—and he repeated it +over and over again as we came home to-day. It may have been very +wrong, but so it was." Miss Trefoil must have thought that kissing +and proposing were the same thing. Other young ladies have, perhaps, +before now made such a mistake. But this young lady had had much +experience and should have known better.</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford had better perhaps speak to your uncle."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell him so, aunt?"</p> + +<p>The Duchess thought about it for a moment. She certainly could not +tell Lord Rufford to speak to the Duke without getting the Duke's +leave to tell him so. And then, if all this were done, and Lord +Rufford were to assure the Duke that the young lady had made a +mistake, how derogatory would all that be to the exalted quiescence +of the house of Mayfair! She thoroughly wished that her niece were +out of the house; for though she did believe the story, her belief +was not thorough. "I will speak to your uncle," she said. "And now +you had better go to sleep."</p> + +<p>"And, dear aunt, pray excuse me at dinner. I have been so excited, so +flurried, and so fatigued, that I fear I should make a fool of myself +if I attempted to come down. I should get into a swoon, which would +be dreadful. My maid shall bring me a bit of something and a glass of +sherry, and you shall find me in the drawing-room when you come out." +Then the Duchess went, and Arabella was left alone to take another +view of the circumstances of the campaign.</p> + +<p>Though there were still infinite dangers, yet she could hardly wish +that anything should be altered. Should Lord Rufford disown her, +which she knew to be quite possible, there would be a general +collapse and the world would crash over her head. But she had known, +when she took this business in hand, that as success would open +Elysium to her, so would failure involve her in absolute ruin. She +was determined that she would mar nothing now by cowardice, and +having so resolved, and having fortified herself with perhaps two +glasses of sherry, she went down to the drawing-room a little before +nine, and laid herself out upon a sofa till the ladies should come +in.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford had gone to bed, as was his wont on such occasions, with +orders that he should be called to dress for dinner at half-past +seven. But as he laid himself down he made up his mind that, instead +of sleeping, he would give himself up to thinking about Arabella +Trefoil. The matter was going beyond a joke, and would require some +thinking. He liked her well enough, but was certainly not in love +with her. I doubt whether men ever are in love with girls who throw +themselves into their arms. A man's love, till it has been chastened +and fastened by the feeling of duty which marriage brings with it, is +instigated mainly by the difficulty of pursuit. "It is hardly +possible that anything so sweet as that should ever be mine; and yet, +because I am a man, and because it is so heavenly sweet, I will try." +That is what men say to themselves, but Lord Rufford had had no +opportunity of saying that to himself in regard to Miss Trefoil. The +thing had been sweet, but not heavenly sweet; and he had never for a +moment doubted the possibility. Now at any rate he would make up his +mind. But, instead of doing so, he went to sleep, and when he got up +he was ten minutes late, and was forced, as he dressed himself, to +think of the Duke's dinner instead of Arabella Trefoil.</p> + +<p>The Duchess before dinner submitted herself and all her troubles at +great length to the Duke, but the Duke could give her no substantial +comfort. Of course it had all been wrong. He supposed that they ought +not to have been found walking together in the dark on Sunday +afternoon. The hunting should not have been arranged without +sanction; and the return home in the hired carriage had no doubt been +highly improper. But what could he do? If the marriage came off it +would be all well. If not, this niece must not be invited to +Mistletoe again. As to speaking to Lord Rufford, he did not quite see +how he was to set about it. His own girls had been married in so very +different a fashion! He could imagine nothing so disagreeable as to +have to ask a gentleman his intentions. Parental duty might make it +necessary when a daughter had not known how to keep her own position +intact;—but here there was no parental duty. If Lord Rufford would +speak to him, then indeed there would be no difficulty. At last he +told his wife that, if she could find an opportunity of suggesting to +the young Lord that he might perhaps say a word to the young lady's +uncle without impropriety,—if she could do this in a light easy way, +so as to run no peril of a scene,—she might do so.</p> + +<p>When the two duchesses and all the other ladies came out into the +drawing-room, Arabella was found upon the sofa. Of course she became +the centre of a little interest for a few minutes, and the more so, +as her aunt went up to her and made some inquiries. Had she had any +dinner? Was she less fatigued? The fact of the improper return home +in the postchaise had become generally known, and there were some +there who would have turned a very cold shoulder to Arabella had not +her aunt noticed her. Perhaps there were some who had envied her +Jack, and Lord Rufford's admiration, and even the postchaise. But as +long as her aunt countenanced her it was not likely that any one at +Mistletoe would be unkind to her. The Duchess of Omnium did indeed +remark to Lady Chiltern that she remembered something of the same +kind happening to the same girl soon after her own marriage. As the +Duchess had now been married a great many years this was unkind;—but +it was known that when the Duchess of Omnium did dislike any one, she +never scrupled to show it. "Lord Rufford is about the silliest man of +his day," she said afterwards to the same lady; "but there is one +thing which I do not think even he is silly enough to do."</p> + +<p>It was nearly ten o'clock when the gentlemen came into the room and +then it was that the Duchess,—Arabella's aunt,—must find the +opportunity of giving Lord Rufford the hint of which the Duke had +spoken. He was to leave Mistletoe on the morrow and might not +improbably do so early. Of all women she was the steadiest, the most +tranquil, the least abrupt in her movements. She could not pounce +upon a man, and nail him down, and say what she had to say, let him +be as unwilling as he might to hear it. At last, however, seeing Lord +Rufford standing alone,—he had then just left the sofa on which +Arabella was still lying,—without any apparent effort she made her +way up to his side. "You had rather a long day," she said.</p> + +<p>"Not particularly, Duchess."</p> + +<p>"You had to come home so far!"</p> + +<p>"About the average distance. Did you think it a hard day, Maurice?" +Then he called to his aid a certain Lord Maurice St. John, a +hard-riding and hard-talking old friend of the Trefoil family who +gave the Duchess a very clear account of all the performance, during +which Lord Rufford fell into an interesting conversation with Mrs. +Mulready, the wife of the neighbouring bishop.</p> + +<p>After that the Duchess made another attempt. "Lord Rufford," she +said, "we should be so glad if you would come back to us the first +week in February. The Prices will be here and the Mackenzies, +<span class="nowrap">and—."</span></p> + +<p>"I am pledged to stay with my sister till the fifth, and on the sixth +Surbiton and all his lot come to me. Battersby, is it not the sixth +that you and Surbiton come to Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think it is," said Battersby.</p> + +<p>"I wish it were possible. I like Mistletoe so much. It's so central."</p> + +<p>"Very well for hunting,—is it not, Lord Rufford?" But that horrid +Captain Battersby did not go out of the way.</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether Lady Chiltern would do me a favour," said Lord +Rufford stepping across the room in search of that lady. He might be +foolish, but when the Duchess of Omnium declared him to be the +silliest man of the day I think she used a wrong epithet. The Duchess +was very patient and intended to try again, but on that evening she +got no opportunity.</p> + +<p>Captain Battersby was Lord Rufford's particular friend on this +occasion and had come over with him from Mr. Surbiton's house. "Bat," +he said as they were sitting close to each other in the smoking-room +that night, "I mean to make an early start to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"What;—to get to Surbiton's?"</p> + +<p>"I've got something to do on the way. I want to look at a horse at +Stamford."</p> + +<p>"I'll be off with you."</p> + +<p>"No;—don't do that. I'll go in my own cart. I'll make my man get +hold of my groom and manage it somehow. I can leave my things and you +can bring them. Only say to-morrow that I was obliged to go."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"Heard something, you know, and all that kind of thing. Make my +apologies to the Duchess. In point of fact I must be in Stamford at +ten."</p> + +<p>"I'll manage it all," said Captain Battersby, who made a very shrewd +guess at the cause which drew his friend to such an uncomfortable +proceeding. After that Lord Rufford went to his room and gave a good +deal of trouble that night to some of the servants in reference to +the steps which would be necessary to take him out of harm's way +before the Duchess would be up on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Arabella when she heard of the man's departure on the following +morning, which she luckily did from her own maid, was for some time +overwhelmed by it. Of course the man was running away from her. There +could be no doubt of it. She had watched him narrowly on the previous +evening, and had seen that her aunt had tried in vain to speak to +him. But she did not on that account give up the game. At any rate +they had not found her out at Mistletoe. That was something. Of +course it would have been infinitely better for her could he have +been absolutely caught and nailed down before he left the house; but +that was perhaps more than she had a right to expect. She could still +pursue him; still write to him;—and at last, if necessary, force her +father to do so. But she must trust now chiefly to her own +correspondence.</p> + +<p>"He told me, aunt, the last thing last night that he was going," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not mention it?"</p> + +<p>"I thought he would have told you. I saw him speaking to you. He had +received some telegram about a horse. He's the most flighty man in +the world about such things. I am to write to him before I leave this +to-morrow." Then the Duchess did not believe a word of the +engagement. She felt at any rate certain that if there was an +engagement, Lord Rufford did not mean to keep it.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-14" id="c2-14"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> +<h3>THE SENATOR IS BADLY TREATED.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>While these great efforts were being made by Arabella Trefoil at +Mistletoe, John Morton was vacillating in an unhappy mood between +London and Bragton. It may be remembered that an offer was made to +him as to the purchase of Chowton Farm. At that time the Mistletoe +party was broken up, and Miss Trefoil was staying with her mother at +the Connop Greens. By the morning post on the next day he received a +note from the Senator in which Mr. Gotobed stated that business +required his presence at Dillsborough and suggested that he should +again become a guest at Bragton for a few days. Morton was so sick of +his own company and so tired of thinking of his own affairs that he +was almost glad to welcome the Senator. At any rate he had no means +of escaping, and the Senator came. The two men were alone at the +house and the Senator was full of his own wrongs as well as those of +Englishmen in general. Mr. Bearside had written to him very +cautiously, but pressing for an immediate remittance of £25, and +explaining that the great case could not be carried on without that +sum of money. This might have been very well as being open to the +idea that the Senator had the option of either paying the money or of +allowing the great case to be abandoned, but that the attorney in the +last paragraph of his letter intimated that the Senator would be of +course aware that he was liable for the whole cost of the action be +it what it might. He had asked a legal friend in London his opinion, +and the legal friend had seemed to think that perhaps he was liable. +What orders he had given to Bearside he had given without any +witness, and at any rate had already paid a certain sum. The legal +friend, when he heard all that Mr. Gotobed was able to tell him about +Goarly, had advised the Senator to settle with Bearside,—taking a +due receipt and having some person with him when he did so. The legal +friend had thought that a small sum of money would suffice. "He went +so far as to suggest," said the Senator with indignant energy, "that +if I contested my liability to the man's charges, the matter would go +against me because I had interfered in such a case on the unpopular +side. I should think that in this great country I should find justice +administered on other terms than that." Morton attempted to explain +to him that his legal friend had not been administering justice but +only giving advice. He had, so Morton told him, undoubtedly taken up +the case of one blackguard, and in urging it had paid his money to +another. He had done so as a foreigner,—loudly proclaiming as his +reason for such action that the man he supported would be unfairly +treated unless he gave his assistance. Of course he could not expect +sympathy. "I want no sympathy," said the Senator;—"I only want +justice." Then the two gentlemen had become a little angry with each +other. Morton was the last man in the world to have been aggressive +on such a matter;—but with the Senator it was necessary either to be +prostrate or to fight.</p> + +<p>But with Mr. Gotobed such fighting never produced ill blood. It was +the condition of his life, and it must be supposed that he liked it. +On the next morning he did not scruple to ask his host's advice as to +what he had better do, and they agreed to walk across to Goarly's +house and to ascertain from the man himself what he thought or might +have to say about his own case. On their way they passed up the road +leading to Chowton Farm, and at the gate leading into the garden they +found Larry Twentyman standing. Morton shook hands with the young +farmer and introduced the Senator. Larry was still woe-begone though +he endeavoured to shake off his sorrows and to appear to be gay. "I +never see much of the man," he said when they told him that they were +going across to call upon his neighbour, "and I don't know that I +want to."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't seem to have much friendship among you all," said the +Senator.</p> + +<p>"Quite as much as he deserves, Mr. Gotobed," replied Larry. The +Senator's name had lately become familiar as a household word in +Dillsborough, and was, to tell the truth, odious to such men as Larry +Twentyman. "He's a thundering rascal, and the only place fit for him +in the county is Rufford gaol. He's like to be there soon, I think."</p> + +<p>"That's what provokes me," said the Senator. "You think he's a +rascal, Mister."</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"And because you take upon yourself to think so you'd send him to +Rufford gaol! There was one gentleman somewhere about here told me he +ought to be hung, and because I would not agree with him he got up +and walked away from me at table, carrying his provisions with him. +Another man in the next field to this insulted me because I said I +was going to see Goarly. The clergyman in Dillsborough and the +hotelkeepers were just as hard upon me. But you see, Mister, that +what we want to find out is whether Goarly or the Lord has the right +of it in this particular case."</p> + +<p>"I know which has the right without any more finding out," said +Larry. "The shortest way to his house is by the ride through the +wood, Mr. Morton. It takes you out on his land on the other side. But +I don't think you'll find him there. One of my men told me that he +had made himself scarce." Then he added as the two were going on, "I +should like to have just a word with you, Mr. Morton. I've been +thinking of what you said, and I know it was kind. I'll take a month +over it. I won't talk of selling Chowton till the end of +February;—but if I feel about it then as I do now I can't stay."</p> + +<p>"That's right, Mr. Twentyman;—and work hard, like a man, through the +month. Go out hunting, and don't allow yourself a moment for moping."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Larry, as he retreated to the house, and then he gave +directions that his horse might be ready for the morrow.</p> + +<p>They went in through the wood, and the Senator pointed out the spot +at which Bean the gamekeeper had been so insolent to him. He could +not understand, he said, why he should be treated so roughly, as +these men must be aware that he had nothing to gain himself. "If I +were to go into Mickewa," said Morton, "and interfere there with the +peculiarities of the people as you have done here, it's my belief +that they'd have had the eyes out of my head long before this."</p> + +<p>"That only shows that you don't know Mickewa," said the Senator. "Its +people are the most law-abiding population on the face of the earth."</p> + +<p>They passed through the wood, and a couple of fields brought them to +Goarly's house. As they approached it by the back the only live thing +they saw was the old goose which had been so cruelly deprived of her +companions and progeny. The goose was waddling round the dirty pool, +and there were to be seen sundry ugly signs of a poor man's +habitation, but it was not till they had knocked at the window as +well as the door that Mrs. Goarly showed herself. She remembered the +Senator at once and curtseyed to him; and when Morton introduced +himself she curtseyed again to the Squire of Bragton. When Goarly was +asked for she shook her head and declared that she knew nothing about +him. He had been gone, she said, for the last week, and had left no +word as to whither he was going;—nor had he told her why. "Has he +given up his action against Lord Rufford?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Indeed then, sir, I can't tell you a word about it."</p> + +<p>"I've been told that he has taken Lord Rufford's money."</p> + +<p>"He ain't 'a taken no money as I've seed, sir. I wish he had, for +money's sore wanted here, and if the gen'leman has a mind to be +<span class="nowrap">kind-hearted—"</span> Then +she intimated her own readiness to take any +contribution to the good cause which the Senator might be willing to +make at that moment. But the Senator buttoned up his breeches pockets +with stern resolution. Though he still believed Lord Rufford to be +altogether wrong, he was beginning to think that the Goarlys were not +worthy his benevolence. As she came to the door with them and +accompanied them a few yards across the field she again told the +tragic tale of her goose;—but the Senator had not another word to +say to her.</p> + +<p>On that same day Morton drove Mr. Gotobed into Dillsborough and +consented to go with him to Mr. Bearside's office. They found the +attorney at home, and before anything was said as to payment they +heard his account of the action. If Goarly had consented to take any +money from Lord Rufford he knew nothing about it. As far as he was +aware the action was going on. Ever so many witnesses must be brought +from a distance who had seen the crop standing and who would have no +bias against the owner,—as would be the case with neighbours, such +as Lawrence Twentyman. Of course it was not easy to oppose such a man +as Lord Rufford and a little money must be spent. Indeed such, he +said, was his interest in the case that he had already gone further +than he ought to have done out of his own pocket. Of course they +would be successful,—that is if the matter were carried on with +spirit, and then the money would all come back again. But just at +present a little money must be spent. "I don't mean to spend it," +said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't stick to that, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"But I shall, sir. I understand from your letter that you look to me +for funds."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do, Mr. Gotobed;—because you told me to do so."</p> + +<p>"I told you nothing of the kind, Mr. Bearside."</p> + +<p>"You paid me £15 on account, Mr. Gotobed."</p> + +<p>"I paid you £15 certainly."</p> + +<p>"And told me that more should be coming as it was wanted. Do you +think I should have gone on for such a man as Goarly,—a fellow +without a shilling,—unless he had some one like you to back him? It +isn't likely. Now, Mr. Morton, I appeal to you."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose that my friend has made himself liable for your bill +because he paid you £15 with the view of assisting Goarly," said +Morton.</p> + +<p>"But he said that he meant to go on, Mr. Morton. He said that plain, +and I can swear it. Now, Mr. Gotobed, you just say out like an honest +man whether you didn't give me to understand that you meant to go +on."</p> + +<p>"I never employed you or made myself responsible for your bill."</p> + +<p>"You authorized me, distinctly,—most distinctly, and I shall stick +to it. When a gentleman comes to a lawyer's office and pays his money +and tells that lawyer as how he means to see the case +out,—explaining his reasons as you did when you said all that +against the landlords and squires and nobility of this here +country,—why then that lawyer has a right to think that that +gentleman is his mark."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were employed by Mr. Scrobby," said Morton, who had +heard much of the story by this time.</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Morton, I must make bold to say that you have heard wrong. +I know nothing of Mr. Scrobby and don't want. There ain't nothing +about the poisoning of that fox in this case of ours. Scrobby and +Goarly may have done that, or Scrobby and Goarly may be as innocent +as two babes unborn for aught I know or care. Excuse me, Mr. Morton, +but I have to be on my p's and q's I see. This is a case for trespass +and damage against Lord Rufford in which we ask for 40<i>s.</i> an acre. +Of course there is expenses. There's my own time. I ain't to be kept +here talking to you two gentlemen for nothing, I suppose. Well; this +gentleman comes to me and pays me £15 to go on. I couldn't have gone +on without something. The gentleman saw that plain enough. And he +told me he'd see me through the rest of it."</p> + +<p>"I said nothing of the kind, sir."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Then we must put it to a jury. May I make bold to ask +whether you are going out of the country all at once?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be here for the next two months, at least."</p> + +<p>"Happy to hear it, sir, and have no doubt it will all be settled +before that time—amiable or otherwise. But as I am money out of +pocket I did hope you would have paid me something on account +to-day."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Gotobed made his offer, informing Mr. Bearside that he had +brought his friend, Mr. Morton, with him in order that there might be +a witness. "I could see that, sir, with half an eye," said the +attorney unabashed. He was willing to pay Mr. Bearside a further sum +of £10 immediately to be quit of the affair, not because he thought +that any such sum was due, but because he wished to free himself from +further trouble in the matter. Mr. Bearside hinted in a very cavalier +way that £20 might be thought of. A further payment of £20 would +cover the money he was out of pocket. But this proposition Mr. +Gotobed indignantly refused, and then left the office with his +friend. "Wherever there are lawyers there will be rogues," said the +Senator, as soon as he found himself in the street. "It is a noble +profession, that of the law; the finest perhaps that the work of the +world affords; but it gives scope and temptation for roguery. I do +not think, however, that you would find anything in America so bad as +that."</p> + +<p>"Why did you go to him without asking any questions?"</p> + +<p>"Of whom was I to ask questions? When I took up Goarly's case he had +already put it into this man's hands."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry you should be troubled, Mr. Gotobed; but, upon my word, I +cannot say but what it serves you right."</p> + +<p>"That is because you are offended with me. I endeavoured to protect a +poor man against a rich man, and that in this country is cause of +offence."</p> + +<p>After leaving the attorney's office they called on Mr. Mainwaring the +rector, and found that he knew, or professed to know, a great deal +more about Goarly, than they had learned from Bearside. According to +his story Nickem, who was clerk to Mr. Masters, had Goarly in safe +keeping somewhere. The rector indeed was acquainted with all the +details. Scrobby had purchased the red herrings and strychnine, and +had employed Goarly to walk over by night to Rufford and fetch them. +The poison at that time had been duly packed in the herrings. Goarly +had done this and had, at Scrobby's instigation, laid the bait down +in Dillsborough Wood. Nickem was now at work trying to learn where +Scrobby had purchased the poison, as it was feared that Goarly's +evidence alone would not suffice to convict the man. But if the +strychnine could be traced and the herrings, then there would be +almost a certainty of punishing Scrobby.</p> + +<p>"And what about Goarly?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"He would escape of course," said the rector. "He would get a little +money and after such an experience would probably become a good +friend to fox-hunting."</p> + +<p>"And quite a respectable man!" The rector did not guarantee this but +seemed to think that there would at any rate be promise of improved +conduct. "The place ought to be too hot to hold him!" exclaimed the +Senator indignantly. The rector seemed to think it possible that he +might find it uncomfortable at first, in which case he would sell the +land at a good price to Lord Rufford and every one concerned would +have been benefited by the transaction,—except Scrobby for whom no +one would feel any pity.</p> + +<p>The two gentlemen then promised to come and dine with the rector on +the following day. He feared he said that he could not make up a +party as there was,—he declared,—nobody in Dillsborough. "I never +knew such a place," said the rector. "Except old Nupper, who is +there? Masters is a very decent fellow himself, but he has got out of +that kind of thing;—and you can't ask a man without asking his wife. +As for clergymen, I'm sick of dining with my own cloth and discussing +the troubles of sermons. There never was such a place as +Dillsborough." Then he whispered a word to the Squire. Was the Squire +unwilling to meet his cousin Reginald Morton? Things were said and +people never knew what was true and what was false. Then John Morton +declared that he would be very happy to meet his cousin.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-15" id="c2-15"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> +<h3>MR. MAINWARING'S LITTLE DINNER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The company at the rector's house consisted of the Senator, the two +Mortons, Mr. Surtees the curate, and old Doctor Nupper. Mrs. +Mainwaring was not well enough to appear, and the rector therefore +was able to indulge himself in what he called a bachelor party. As a +rule he disliked clergymen, but at the last had been driven to invite +his curate because he thought six a better number than five for +joviality. He began by asking questions as to the Trefoils which were +not very fortunate. Of course he had heard that Morton was to marry +Arabella Trefoil, and though he made no direct allusion to the fact, +as Reginald had done, he spoke in that bland eulogistic tone which +clearly showed his purpose. "They went with you to Lord Rufford's, I +was told."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—they did."</p> + +<p>"And now they have left the neighbourhood. A very clever young lady, +Miss Trefoil;—and so is her mother, a very clever woman." The +Senator, to whom a sort of appeal was made, nodded his assent. "Lord +Augustus, I believe, is a brother of the Duke of Mayfair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is," said Morton. "I am afraid we are going to have frost +again." Then Reginald Morton was sure that the marriage would never +take place.</p> + +<p>"The Trefoils are a very distinguished family," continued the rector. +"I remember the present Duke's father when he was in the cabinet, and +knew this man almost intimately when we were at Christchurch +together. I don't think this Duke ever took a prominent part in +politics."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that he ever did," said Morton.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, how tipsy he was once driving back to Oxford with me in +a gig. But he has the reputation of being one of the best landlords +in the country now."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what it is that gives a man the reputation of being a good +landlord. Is it foxes?" asked the Senator. The rector acknowledged +with a smile that foxes helped. "Or does it mean that he lets his +land below the value? If so, he certainly does more harm than good, +though he may like the popularity which he is rich enough to buy."</p> + +<p>"It means that he does not exact more than his due," said the rector +indiscreetly.</p> + +<p>"When I hear a man so highly praised for common honesty I am of +course led to suppose that dishonesty in his particular trade is the +common rule. The body of English landlords must be exorbitant tyrants +when one among them is so highly eulogised for taking no more than +his own." Luckily at that moment dinner was announced, and the +exceptional character of the Duke of Mayfair was allowed to drop.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mainwaring's dinner was very good and his wines were +excellent,—a fact of which Mr. Mainwaring himself was much better +aware than any of his guests. There is a difficulty in the giving of +dinners of which Mr. Mainwaring and some other hosts have become +painfully aware. What service do you do to any one in pouring your +best claret down his throat, when he knows no difference between that +and a much more humble vintage,—your best claret which you feel so +sure you cannot replace? Why import canvas-back ducks for appetites +which would be quite as well satisfied with those out of the next +farm-yard? Your soup, which has been a care since yesterday, your +fish, got down with so great trouble from Bond Street on that very +day, your saddle of mutton, in selecting which you have affronted +every butcher in the neighbourhood, are all plainly thrown away! And +yet the hospitable hero who would fain treat his friends as he would +be treated himself can hardly arrange his dinners according to the +palates of his different guests; nor will he like, when strangers sit +at his board, to put nothing better on his table than that cheaper +wine with which needful economy induces him to solace himself when +alone. I,—I who write this,—have myself seen an honoured guest +deluge with the pump my, ah! so hardly earned, most scarce and most +peculiar vintage! There is a pang in such usage which some will not +understand, but which cut Mr. Mainwaring to the very soul. There was +not one among them there who appreciated the fact that the claret on +his dinner table was almost the best that its year had produced. It +was impossible not to say a word on such a subject at such a +moment;—though our rector was not a man who usually lauded his own +viands. "I think you will find that claret what you like, Mr. +Gotobed," he said. "It's a '57 Mouton, and judges say that it is +good."</p> + +<p>"Very good indeed," said the Senator. "In the States we haven't got +into the way yet of using dinner clarets." It was as good as a play +to see the rector wince under the ignominious word. "Your great +statesman added much to your national comfort when he took the duty +off the lighter kinds of French wines."</p> + +<p>The rector could not stand it. He hated light wines. He hated cheap +things in general. And he hated Gladstone in particular. "Nothing," +said he, "that the statesman you speak of ever did could make such +wine as that any cheaper. I am sorry, sir, that you don't perceive +the difference."</p> + +<p>"In the matter of wine," said the Senator, "I don't think that I have +happened to come across anything so good in this country as our old +Madeiras. But then, sir, we have been fortunate in our climate. The +English atmosphere is not one in which wine seems to reach its full +perfection." The rector heaved a deep sigh as he looked up to the +ceiling with his hands in his trowsers-pockets. He knew, or thought +that he knew, that no one could ever get a glass of good wine in the +United States. He knew, or thought that he knew, that the best wine +in the world was brought to England. He knew, or thought he knew, +that in no other country was wine so well understood, so diligently +sought for, and so truly enjoyed as in England. And he imagined that +it was less understood and less sought for and less enjoyed in the +States than in any other country. He did not as yet know the Senator +well enough to fight with him at his own table, and could only groan +and moan and look up at the ceiling. Doctor Nupper endeavoured to +take away the sting by smacking his lips, and Reginald Morton, who +did not in truth care a straw what he drank, was moved to pity and +declared the claret to be very fine. "I have nothing to say against +it," said the Senator, who was not in the least abashed.</p> + +<p>But when the cloth was drawn,—for the rector clung so lovingly to +old habits that he delighted to see his mahogany beneath the wine +glasses,—a more serious subject of dispute arose suddenly, though +perhaps hardly more disagreeable. "The thing in England," said the +Senator, "which I find most difficult to understand, is the matter of +what you call Church patronage."</p> + +<p>"If you'll pass half an hour with Mr. Surtees to-morrow morning, +he'll explain it all to you," said the rector, who did not like that +any subject connected with his profession should be mooted after +dinner.</p> + +<p>"I should be delighted," said Mr. Surtees.</p> + +<p>"Nothing would give me more pleasure," said the Senator; "but what I +mean is this;—the question is, of course, one of paramount +importance."</p> + +<p>"No doubt it is," said the deluded rector.</p> + +<p>"It is very necessary to get good doctors."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, rather;—considering that all men wish to live." That +observation, of course, came from Doctor Nupper.</p> + +<p>"And care is taken in employing a lawyer,—though, after my +experience of yesterday, not always, I should say, so much care as is +needful. The man who wants such aid looks about him and gets the best +doctor he can for his money, or the best lawyer. But here in England +he must take the clergyman provided for him."</p> + +<p>"It would be very much better for him if he did," said the rector.</p> + +<p>"A clergyman at any rate is supposed to be appointed; and that +clergyman he must pay."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the rector. "The clergy are paid by the wise +provision of former ages."</p> + +<p>"We will let that pass for the present," said the Senator. "There he +is, however he may be paid. How does he get there?" Now it was the +fact that Mr. Mainwaring's living had been bought for him with his +wife's money,—a fact of which Mr. Gotobed was not aware, but which +he would hardly have regarded had he known it. "How does he get +there?"</p> + +<p>"In the majority of cases the bishop puts him there," said Mr. +Surtees.</p> + +<p>"And how is the bishop governed in his choice? As far as I can learn +the stipends are absurdly various, one man getting £100 a year for +working like a horse in a big town, and another £1000 for living an +idle life in a luxurious country house. But the bishop of course +gives the bigger plums to the best men. How is it then that the big +plums find their way so often to the sons and sons-in-law and nephews +of the bishops?"</p> + +<p>"Because the bishop has looked after their education and principles," +said the rector.</p> + +<p>"And taught them how to choose their wives," said the Senator with +imperturbable gravity.</p> + +<p>"I am not the son of a bishop, sir," exclaimed the rector.</p> + +<p>"I wish you had been, sir, if it would have done you any good. A +general can't make his son a colonel at the age of twenty-five, or an +admiral his son a first lieutenant, or a judge his a Queen's +Counsellor,—nor can the head of an office promote his to be a chief +secretary. It is only a bishop can do this;—I suppose because a cure +of souls is so much less important than the charge of a ship or the +discipline of twenty or thirty clerks."</p> + +<p>"The bishops don't do it," said the rector fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Then the statistics which have been put into my hands belie them. +But how is it with those the bishops don't appoint? There seems to me +to be such a complication of absurdities as to defy explanation."</p> + +<p>"I think I could explain them all," said Mr. Surtees mildly.</p> + +<p>"If you can do so satisfactorily, I shall be very glad to hear it," +continued the Senator, who seemed in truth to be glad to hear no one +but himself. "A lad of one-and-twenty learns his lessons so well that +he has to be rewarded at his college, and a part of his reward +consists in his having a parish entrusted to him when he is forty +years old, to which he can maintain his right whether he be in any +way trained for such work or no. Is that true?"</p> + +<p>"His collegiate education is the best training he can have," said the +rector.</p> + +<p>"I came across a young fellow the other day," continued the Senator, +"in a very nice house, with £700 a year, and learned that he had +inherited the living because he was his father's second son. Some +poor clergyman had been keeping it ready for him for the last fifteen +years and had to turn out as soon as this young spark could be made a +clergyman."</p> + +<p>"It was his father's property," said the rector, "and the poor man +had had great kindness shown him for those fifteen years."</p> + +<p>"Exactly;—his father's property! And this is what you call a cure of +souls! And another man had absolutely had his living bought for him +by his uncle,—just as he might have bought him a farm. He couldn't +have bought him the command of a regiment or a small judgeship. In +those matters you require capacity. It is only when you deal with the +Church that you throw to the winds all ideas of fitness. 'Sir,' or +'Madam,' or perhaps, 'my little dear,' you are bound to come to your +places in Church and hear me expound the Word of God because I have +paid a heavy sum of money for the privilege of teaching you, at the +moderate salary of £600 a year!'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Surtees sat aghast, with his mouth open, and knew not how to say +a word. Doctor Nupper rubbed his red nose. Reginald Morton attempted +some suggestion about the wine which fell wretchedly flat. John +Morton ventured to tell his friend that he did not understand the +subject. "I shall be most happy to be instructed," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Understand it!" said the rector, almost rising in his chair to +rebuke the insolence of his guest—"He understands nothing about it, +and yet he ventures to fall foul with unmeasured terms on an +establishment which has been brought to its present condition by the +fostering care of perhaps the most pious set of divines that ever +lived, and which has produced results with which those of no other +Church can compare!"</p> + +<p>"Have I represented anything untruly?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"A great deal, sir."</p> + +<p>"Only put me right, and no man will recall his words more readily. Is +it not the case that livings in the Church of England can be bought +and sold?"</p> + +<p>"The matter is one, sir," said the rector, "which cannot be discussed +in this manner. There are two clergymen present to whom such language +is distasteful; as it is also I hope to the others who are all +members of the Church of England. Perhaps you will allow me to +request that the subject may be changed." After that conversation +flagged and the evening was by no means joyous. The rector certainly +regretted that his "'57" claret should have been expended on such a +man. "I don't think," said he when John Morton had taken the Senator +away, "that in my whole life before I ever met such a brute as that +American Senator."</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-16" id="c2-16"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> +<h3>PERSECUTION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>There was great consternation in the attorney's house after the +writing of the letter to Lawrence Twentyman. For twenty-four hours +Mrs. Masters did not speak to Mary, not at all intending to let her +sin pass with such moderate punishment as that, but thinking during +that period that as she might perhaps induce Larry to ignore the +letter and look upon it as though it were not written, it would be +best to say nothing till the time should come in which the lover +might again urge his suit. But when she found on the evening of the +second day that Larry did not come near the place she could control +herself no longer, and accused her step-daughter of ruining herself, +her father, and the whole family. "That is very unfair, mamma," Mary +said. "I have done nothing. I have only not done that which nobody +had a right to ask me to do."</p> + +<p>"Right indeed! And who are you with your rights? A decent +well-behaved young man with five or six hundred a year has no right +to ask you to be his wife! All this comes of you staying with an old +woman with a handle to her name."</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Mary endeavoured to explain that she had not +alluded to Larry when she declared that no one had a right to ask her +to do it. She had, she said, always thanked him for his good opinion +of her, and had spoken well of him whenever his name was mentioned. +But it was a matter on which a young woman was entitled to judge for +herself, and no one had a right to scold her because she could not +love him. Mrs. Masters hated such arguments, despised this +rodomontade about love, and would have crushed the girl into +obedience could it have been possible. "You are an idiot," she said, +"an ungrateful idiot; and unless you think better of it you'll repent +your folly to your dying day. Who do you think is to come running +after a moping slut like you?" Then Mary gathered herself up and left +the room, feeling that she could not live in the house if she were to +be called a slut.</p> + +<p>Soon after this Larry came to the attorney and got him to come out +into the street and to walk with him round the churchyard. It was the +spot in Dillsborough in which they would most certainly be left +undisturbed. This took place on the day before his proposition for +the sale of Chowton Farm. When he got the attorney into the +churchyard he took out Mary's letter and in speechless agony handed +it to the attorney. "I saw it before it went," said Masters putting +it back with his hand.</p> + +<p>"I suppose she means it?" asked Larry.</p> + +<p>"I can't say to you but what she does, Twentyman. As far as I know +her she isn't a girl that would ever say anything that she didn't +mean."</p> + +<p>"I was sure of that. When I got it and read it, it was just as though +some one had come behind me and hit me over the head with a +wheel-spoke. I couldn't have ate a morsel of breakfast if I knew I +wasn't to see another bit of food for four-and-twenty hours."</p> + +<p>"I knew you would feel it, Larry."</p> + +<p>"Feel it! Till it came to this I didn't think of myself but what I +had more strength. It has knocked me about till I feel all over like +drinking."</p> + +<p>"Don't do that, Larry."</p> + +<p>"I won't answer for myself what I'll do. A man sets his heart on a +thing,—just on one thing,—and has grit enough in him to be sure of +himself that if he can get that nothing shall knock him over. When +that thoroughbred mare of mine slipped her foal who can say I ever +whimpered. When I got pleuro among the cattle I killed a'most the lot +of 'em out of hand, and never laid awake a night about it. But I've +got it so heavy this time I can't stand it. You don't think I have +any chance, Mr. Masters?"</p> + +<p>"You can try of course. You're welcome to the house."</p> + +<p>"But what do you think? You must know her."</p> + +<p>"Girls do change their minds."</p> + +<p>"But she isn't like other girls. Is she now? I come to you because I +sometimes think Mrs. Masters is a little hard on her. Mrs. Masters is +about the best friend I have. There isn't anybody more on my side +than she is. But I feel sure of this;—Mary will never be drove."</p> + +<p>"I don't think she will, Larry."</p> + +<p>"She's got a will of her own as well as another."</p> + +<p>"No man alive ever had a better daughter."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of that, Mr. Masters; and no man alive 'll ever have a +better wife. But she won't be drove. I might ask her again, you +think?"</p> + +<p>"You certainly have my leave."</p> + +<p>"But would it be any good? I'd rather cut my throat and have done +with it than go about teasing her because her parents let me come to +her." Then there was a pause during which they walked on, the +attorney feeling that he had nothing more to say. "What I want to +know," said Larry, "is this. Is there anybody else?"</p> + +<p>That was just the point on which the attorney himself was perplexed. +He had asked Mary that question, and her silence had assured him that +it was so. Then he had suggested to her the name of the only probable +suitor that occurred to him, and she had repelled the idea in a +manner that had convinced him at once. There was some one, but Mr. +Surtees was not the man. There was some one, he was sure, but he had +not been able to cross-examine her on the subject. He had, since +that, cudgelled his brain to think who that some one might be, but +had not succeeded in suggesting a name even to himself. That of +Reginald Morton, who hardly ever came to the house and whom he +regarded as a silent, severe, unapproachable man, did not come into +his mind. Among the young ladies of Dillsborough Reginald Morton was +never regarded as even a possible lover. And yet there was assuredly +some one. "If there is any one else I think you ought to tell me," +continued Larry.</p> + +<p>"It is quite possible."</p> + +<p>"Young Surtees, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I do not say there is anybody; but if there be anybody I do not +think it is Surtees."</p> + +<p>"Who else then?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say, Larry. I know nothing about it."</p> + +<p>"But there is some one?"</p> + +<p>"I do not say so. You ask me and I tell you all I know."</p> + +<p>Again they walked round the churchyard in silence and the attorney +began to be anxious that the interview might be over. He hardly liked +to be interrogated about the state of his daughter's heart, and yet +he had felt himself bound to tell what he knew to the man who had in +all respects behaved well to him. When they had returned for the +third or fourth time to the gate by which they had entered Larry +spoke again. "I suppose I may as well give it up."</p> + +<p>"What can I say?"</p> + +<p>"You have been fair enough, Mr. Masters. And so has she. And so has +everybody. I shall just get away as quick as I can, and go and hang +myself. I feel above bothering her any more. When she sat down to +write a letter like that she must have been in earnest."</p> + +<p>"She certainly was in earnest, Larry."</p> + +<p>"What's the use of going on after that? Only it is so hard for a +fellow to feel that everything is gone. It is just as though the +house was burnt down, or I was to wake in the morning and find that +the land didn't belong to me."</p> + +<p>"Not so bad as that, Larry."</p> + +<p>"Not so bad, Mr. Masters! Then you don't know what it is I'm feeling. +I'd let his lordship or Squire Morton have it all, and go in upon it +as a tenant at 30<i>s.</i> an acre, so that I could take her along with +me. I would, and sell the horses and set to and work in my +shirt-sleeves. A man could stand that. Nobody wouldn't laugh at me +then. But there's an emptiness now here that makes me sick all +through, as though I hadn't got stomach left for anything." Then poor +Larry put his hand upon his heart and hid his face upon the +churchyard wall. The attorney made some attempt to say a kind word to +him, and then, leaving him there, slowly made his way back to his +office.</p> + +<p>We already know what first step Larry took with the intention of +running away from his cares. In the house at Dillsborough things were +almost as bad as they were with him. Over and over again Mrs. Masters +told her husband that it was all his fault, and that if he had torn +the letter when it was showed to him, everything would have been +right by the end of the two months. This he bore with what equanimity +he could, shutting himself up very much in his office, occasionally +escaping for a quarter of an hour of ease to his friends at the Bush, +and eating his meals in silence. But when he became aware that his +girl was being treated with cruelty,—that she was never spoken to by +her stepmother without harsh words, and that her sisters were +encouraged to be disdainful to her, then his heart rose within him +and he rebelled. He declared aloud that Mary should not be +persecuted, and if this kind of thing were continued he would defend +his girl let the consequences be what they might.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to defend her against?" asked his wife.</p> + +<p>"I won't have her ill-used because she refuses to marry at your +bidding."</p> + +<p>"Bah! You know as much how to manage a girl as though you were an old +maid yourself. Cocker her up and make her think that nothing is good +enough for her! Break her spirit, and make her come round, and teach +her to know what it is to have an honest man's house offered to her. +If she don't take Larry Twentyman's she's like to have none of her +own before long." But Mr. Masters would not assent to this plan of +breaking his girl's spirit, and so there was continual war in the +place and every one there was miserable.</p> + +<p>Mary herself was so unhappy that she convinced herself that it was +necessary that some change should be made. Then she remembered Lady +Ushant's offer of a home, and not only the offer, but the old lady's +assurance that to herself such an arrangement, if possible, would be +very comfortable. She did not suggest to herself that she would leave +her father's home for ever and always; but it might be that an +absence of some months might relieve the absolute misery of their +present mode of living. The effect on her father was so sad that she +was almost driven to regret that he should have taken her own part. +Her stepmother was not a bad woman; nor did Mary even now think her +to be bad. She was a hardworking, painstaking wife, with a good +general idea of justice. In the division of puddings and pies and +other material comforts of the household she would deal evenly +between her own children and her step-daughter. She had not desired +to send Mary away to an inadequate home, or with a worthless husband. +But when the proper home and the proper man were there she was +prepared to use any amount of hardship to secure these good things to +the family generally. This hardship Mary could not endure, nor could +Mary's father on her behalf, and therefore Mary prepared a letter to +Lady Ushant in which, at great length, she told her old friend the +whole story. She spoke as tenderly as was possible of all concerned, +but declared that her stepmother's feelings on the subject were so +strong that every one in the house was made wretched. Under these +circumstances,—for her father's sake if only for that,—she thought +herself bound to leave the house. "It is quite impossible," she said, +"that I should do as they wish me. That is a matter on which a young +woman must judge for herself. If you could have me for a few months +it would perhaps all pass by. I should not dare to ask this but for +what you said yourself; and, dear Lady Ushant, pray remember that I +do not want to be idle. There are a great many things I can do; and +though I know that nothing can pay for kindness, I might perhaps be +able not to be a burden." Then she added in a postscript—"Papa is +everything that is kind;—but then all this makes him so miserable!"</p> + +<p>When she had kept the letter by her for a day she showed it to her +father, and by his consent it was sent. After much consultation it +was agreed between them that nothing should be said about it to Mrs. +Masters till the answer should come; and that, should the answer be +favourable, the plan should be carried out in spite of any domestic +opposition. In this letter Mary told as accurately as she could the +whole story of Larry's courtship, and was very clear in declaring +that under no possible circumstances could she encourage any hope. +But of course she said not a word as to any other man or as to any +love on her side. "Have you told her everything?" said her father as +he closed the letter.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa;—everything that there is to be told." Then there arose +within his own bosom an immense desire to know that secret, so that +if possible he might do something to relieve her pain;—but he could +not bring himself to ask further questions.</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant on receiving the letter much doubted what she ought to +do. She acknowledged at once Mary's right to appeal to her, and +assured herself that the girl's presence would be a comfort and a +happiness to herself. If Mary were quite alone in the world Lady +Ushant would have been at once prepared to give her a home. But she +doubted as to the propriety of taking the girl from her own family. +She doubted even whether it would not be better that Mary should be +left within the influence of Larry Twentyman's charms. A settlement, +an income, and assured comforts for life are very serious things to +all people who have reached Lady Ushant's age. And then she had a +doubt within her own mind whether Mary might not be debarred from +accepting this young man by some unfortunate preference for Reginald +Morton. She had seen them together and had suspected something of the +truth before it had glimmered before the eyes of any one in +Dillsborough. Had Reginald been so inclined Lady Ushant would have +been very glad to see him marry Mary Masters. For both their sakes +she would have preferred such a match to one with the owner of +Chowton Farm. But she did not think that Reginald himself was that +way minded, and she fancied that poor Mary might be throwing away her +prosperity in life were she to wait for Reginald's love. Larry +Twentyman was at any rate sure;—and perhaps it might be unwise to +separate the girl from her lover.</p> + +<p>In her doubt she determined to refer the case to Reginald himself, +and instead of writing to Mary she wrote to him. She did not send him +Mary's letter,—which would, she felt, have been a breach of faith; +nor did she mention the name of Larry Twentyman. But she told him +that Mary had proposed to come to Cheltenham for a long visit because +there were disturbances at home,—which disturbances had arisen from +her rejection of a certain suitor. Lady Ushant said a great deal as +to the inexpediency of fostering family quarrels, and suggested that +Mary might perhaps have been a little impetuous. The presence of this +lover could hardly do her much injury. These were not days in which +young women were forced to marry men. What did he, Reginald Morton, +think about it? He was to remember that as far as she herself was +concerned, she dearly loved Mary Masters and would be delighted to +have her at Cheltenham; and, so remembering, he was to see the +attorney, and Mary herself, and if necessary Mrs. Masters;—and then +to report his opinion to Cheltenham.</p> + +<p>Then, fearing that her nephew might be away for a day or two, or that +he might not be able to perform his commission instantly, and +thinking that Mary might be unhappy if she received no immediate +reply to such a request as hers had been, Lady Ushant by the same +post wrote to her young friend as +<span class="nowrap">follows;—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Mary</span>,</p> + +<p>Reginald will go over and see your father about your +proposition. As far as I myself am concerned nothing would +give me so much pleasure. This is quite sincere. But the +matter is in other respects very important. Of course I +have kept your letter all to myself, and in writing to +Reginald I have mentioned no names.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Your affectionate friend,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Margaret Ushant</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p><a name="c2-17" id="c2-17"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> +<h3>"PARTICULARLY PROUD OF YOU."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Arabella Trefoil left her uncle's mansion on the day after her +lover's departure, certainly not in triumph, but with somewhat +recovered spirits. When she first heard that Lord Rufford was +gone,—that he had fled away as it were in the middle of the night +without saying a word to her, without a syllable to make good the +slight assurances of his love that had been given to her in the post +carriage, she felt that she was deserted and betrayed. And when she +found herself altogether neglected on the following day, and that the +slightly valuable impression which she had made on her aunt was +apparently gone, she did for half an hour think in earnest of the +Paragon and Patagonia. But after a while she called to mind all that +she knew of great efforts successfully made in opposition to almost +overwhelming difficulties. She had heard of forlorn hopes, and +perhaps in her young days had read something of Cæsar still clinging +to his Commentaries as he struggled in the waves. This was her +forlorn hope, and she would be as brave as any soldier of them all. +Lord Rufford's embraces were her Commentaries, and let the winds blow +and the waves roll as they might she would still cling to them. After +lunch she spoke to her aunt with great courage,—as the Duchess +thought with great effrontery. "My uncle wouldn't speak to Lord +Rufford before he went?"</p> + +<p>"How could he speak to a man who ran away from his house in that +way?"</p> + +<p>"The running away, as you call it, aunt, did not take place till two +days after I had told you all about it. I thought he would have done +as much as that for his brother's daughter."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in it at all," said the Duchess sternly.</p> + +<p>"Don't believe in what, aunt? You don't mean to say that you don't +believe that Lord Rufford has asked me to be his wife!" Then she +paused, but the Duchess absolutely lacked the courage to express her +conviction again. "I don't suppose it signifies much," continued +Arabella, "but of course it would have been something to me that Lord +Rufford should have known that the Duke was anxious for my welfare. +He was quite prepared to have assured my uncle of his intentions."</p> + +<p>"Then why didn't he speak himself?"</p> + +<p>"Because the Duke is not my father. Really, aunt, when I hear you +talk of his running away I do feel it to be unkind. As if we didn't +all know that a man like that goes and comes as he pleases. It was +just before dinner that he got the message, and was he to run round +and wish everybody good-bye like a schoolgirl going to bed?"</p> + +<p>The Duchess was almost certain that no message had come, and from +various little things which she had observed and from tidings which +had reached her, very much doubted whether Arabella had known +anything of his intended going. She too had a maid of her own who on +occasions could bring information. But she had nothing further to say +on the subject. If Arabella should ever become Lady Rufford she would +of course among other visitors be occasionally received at Mistletoe. +She could never be a favourite, but things would to a certain degree +have rectified themselves. But if, as the Duchess expected, no such +marriage took place, then this ill-conducted niece should never be +admitted within the house again.</p> + +<p>Later on in the afternoon, some hours after it became dusk, Arabella +contrived to meet her aunt in the hall with a letter in her hand, and +asked where the letter-box was. She knew where to deposit her letters +as well as did the Duchess herself; but she desired an opportunity of +proclaiming what she had done. "I am writing to Lord Rufford. Perhaps +as I am in your house I ought to tell you what I have done."</p> + +<p>"The letter-box is in the billiard-room, close to the door," said the +Duchess passing on. Then she added as she went, "The post for to-day +has gone already."</p> + +<p>"His Lordship will have to wait a day for his letter. I dare say it +won't break his heart," said Arabella, as she turned away to the +billiard-room.</p> + +<p>All this had been planned; and, moreover, she had so written her +letter that if her magnificent aunt should condescend to tamper with +it all that was in it should seem to corroborate her own story. The +Duchess would have considered herself disgraced if ever she had done +such a thing;—but the niece of the Duchess did not quite understand +that this would be so. The letter was as follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Mistletoe, 19th Jany. 1875.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest R</span>.,</p> + +<p>Your going off like that was, after all, very horrid. My +aunt thinks that you were running away from me. I think +that you were running away from her. Which was true? In +real earnest I don't for a moment think that either I or +the Duchess had anything to do with it, and that you did +go because some horrid man wrote and asked you. I know you +don't like being bound by any of the conventionalities. I +hope there is such a word, and that if not, you'll +understand it just the same.</p> + +<p>Oh, Peltry,—and oh, Jack,—and oh, that road back to +Stamford! I am so stiff that I can't sit upright, and +everybody is cross to me, and everything is uncomfortable. +What horrible things women are! There isn't one here, not +even old Lady Rumpus, who hasn't an unmarried daughter +left in the world, who isn't jealous of me, +because—<span class="nowrap">because—.</span> I +must leave you to guess why they all +hate me so! And I'm sure if you had given Jack to any +other woman I should hate her, though you may give every +horse you have to any man that you please. I wonder +whether I shall have another day's hunting before it is +all over. I suppose not. It was almost by a miracle that +we managed yesterday—only fancy—yesterday! It seems to +be an age ago!</p> + +<p>Pray, pray, pray write to me at once,—to the Connop +Greens, so that I may get a nice, soft, pleasant word +directly I get among those nasty, hard, unpleasant people. +They have lots of money, and plenty of furniture, and I +dare say the best things to eat and drink in the +world,—but nothing else. There will be no Jack; and if +there were, alas, alas, no one to show me the way to ride +him.</p> + +<p>I start to-morrow, and as far as I understand, shall have +to make my way into Hampshire all by myself, with only +such security as my maid can give me. I shall make her go +in the same carriage and shall have the gratification of +looking at her all the way. I suppose I ought not to say +that I will shut my eyes and try to think that somebody +else is there.</p> + +<p>Good-bye dear, dear, dear R. I shall be dying for a letter +from you. Yours ever, with all my heart. A.</p> + +<p>I shall write you such a serious epistle when I get to the +Greens.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>This was not such a letter as she thought that her aunt would +approve; but it was, she fancied, such as the Duchess would believe +that she would write to her lover. And if it were allowed to go on +its way it would make Lord Rufford feel that she was neither alarmed +nor displeased by the suddenness of his departure. But it was not +expected to do much good. It might produce some short, joking, +half-affectionate reply, but would not draw from him that serious +word which was so necessary for the success of her scheme. Therefore +she had told him that she intended to prepare a serious missile. +Should this pleasant little message of love miscarry, the serious +missile would still be sent, and the miscarriage would occasion no +harm.</p> + +<p>But then further plans were necessary. It might be that Lord Rufford +would take no notice of the serious missile,—which she thought very +probable. Or it might be that he would send back a serious reply, in +which he would calmly explain to her that she had unfortunately +mistaken his sentiments;—which she believed would be a stretch of +manhood beyond his reach. But in either case she would be prepared +with the course which she would follow. In the first she would begin +by forcing her father to write to him a letter which she herself +would dictate. In the second she would set the whole family at him as +far as the family were within her reach. With her cousin Lord +Mistletoe, who was only two years older than herself, she had always +held pleasant relations. They had been children together, and as they +had grown up the young Lord had liked his pretty cousin. Latterly +they had seen each other but rarely, and therefore the feeling still +remained. She would tell Lord Mistletoe her whole story,—that is the +story as she would please to tell it,—and implore his aid. Her +father should be driven to demand from Lord Rufford an execution of +his alleged promises. She herself would write such a letter to the +Duke as an uncle should be unable not to notice. She would move +heaven and earth as to her wrongs. She thought that if her friends +would stick to her, Lord Rufford would be weak as water in their +hands. But it must be all done immediately,—so that if everything +failed she might be ready to start to Patagonia some time in April. +When she looked back and remembered that it was hardly more than two +months since she had been taken to Rufford Hall by Mr. Morton she +could not accuse herself of having lost any time.</p> + +<p>In London she met her mother,—as to which meeting there had been +some doubt,—and underwent the tortures of a close examination. She +had thought it prudent on this occasion to tell her mother something, +but not to tell anything quite truly. "He has proposed to me," she +said.</p> + +<p>"He has!" said Lady Augustus, holding up her hands almost in awe.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything so wonderful in that?"</p> + +<p>"Then it is all arranged. Does the Duke know it?"</p> + +<p>"It is not all arranged by any means, and the Duke does know it. Now, +mamma, after that I must decline to answer any more questions. I have +done this all myself, and I mean to continue it in the same way."</p> + +<p>"Did he speak to the Duke? You will tell me that."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you nothing."</p> + +<p>"You will drive me mad, Arabella."</p> + +<p>"That will be better than your driving me mad just at present. You +ought to feel that I have a great deal to think of."</p> + +<p>"And have not I?"</p> + +<p>"You can't help me;—not at present."</p> + +<p>"But he did propose,—in absolute words?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, what a goose you are! Do you suppose that men do it all now +just as it is done in books? 'Miss Arabella Trefoil, will you do me +the honour to become my wife?' Do you think that Lord Rufford would +ask the question in that way?"</p> + +<p>"It is a very good way."</p> + +<p>"Any way is a good way that answers the purpose. He has proposed, and +I mean to make him stick to it."</p> + +<p>"You doubt then?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you are so silly! Do you not know what such a man is well +enough to be sure that he'll change his mind half-a-dozen times if he +can? I don't mean to let him; and now, after that, I won't say +another word."</p> + +<p>"I have got a letter here from Mr. Short saying that something must +be fixed about Mr. Morton." Mr. Short was the lawyer who had been +instructed to prepare the settlements.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Short may do whatever he likes," said Arabella. There were very +hot words between them that night in London, but the mother could +obtain no further information from her daughter.</p> + +<p>That serious epistle had been commenced even before Arabella had left +Mistletoe; but the composition was one which required great care, and +it was not completed and copied and recopied till she had been two +days in Hampshire. Not even when it was finished did she say a word +to her mother about it. She had doubted much as to the phrases which +in such an emergency she ought to use, but she thought it safer to +trust to herself than to her mother. In writing such a letter as that +posted at Mistletoe she believed herself to be happy. She could write +it quickly, and understood that she could convey to her correspondent +some sense of her assumed mood. But her serious letter would, she +feared, be stiff and repulsive. Whether her fears were right the +reader shall judge,—for the letter when written was as +follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Marygold Place, Basingstoke,<br /> +Saturday.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Lord Rufford</span>,</p> + +<p>You will I suppose have got the letter that I wrote before +I left Mistletoe, and which I directed to Mr. Surbiton's. +There was not much in it,—except a word or two as to your +going and as to my desolation, and just a reminiscence of +the hunting. There was no reproach that you should have +left me without any farewell, or that you should have gone +so suddenly, after saying so much, without saying more. I +wanted you to feel that you had made me very happy, and +not to feel that your departure in such a way had robbed +me of part of the happiness.</p> + +<p>It was a little bad of you, because it did of course leave +me to the hardness of my aunt; and because all the other +women there would of course follow her. She had inquired +about our journey home, that dear journey home, and I had +of course told her,—well I had better say it out at once; +I told her that we were engaged. You, I am sure, will +think that the truth was best. She wanted to know why you +did not go to the Duke. I told her that the Duke was not +my father; but that as far as I was concerned the Duke +might speak to you or not as he pleased. I had nothing to +conceal. I am very glad he did not, because he is pompous, +and you would have been bored. If there is one thing I +desire more than another it is that nothing belonging to +me shall ever be a bore to you. I hope I may never stand +in the way of anything that will gratify you,—as I said +when you lit that cigar. You will have forgotten, I dare +say. But, dear Rufford,—dearest; I may say that, mayn't +I?—say something, or do something to make me satisfied. +You know what I mean;—don't you? It isn't that I am a bit +afraid myself. I don't think so little of myself, or so +badly of you. But I don't like other women to look at me +as though I ought not to be proud of anything. I am proud +of everything; particularly proud of you,—and of Jack.</p> + +<p>Now there is my serious epistle, and I am sure that you +will answer it like a dear, good, kind-hearted, +loving—lover. I won't be afraid of writing the word, nor +of saying that I love you with all my heart, and that I am +always your own</p> + +<p class="ind16"><span class="smallcaps">Arabella</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>She kept the letter till the Sunday, thinking that she might have an +answer to that written from Mistletoe, and that his reply might alter +its tone, or induce her to put it aside altogether; but when on +Sunday morning none came, her own was sent. The word in it which +frightened herself was the word "engaged." She tried various other +phrases, but declared to herself at last that it was useless to "beat +about the bush." He must know the light in which she was pleased to +regard those passages of love which she had permitted so that there +might be no mistake. Whether the letter would be to his liking or +not, it must be of such a nature that it would certainly draw from +him an answer on which she could act. She herself did not like the +letter; but, considering her difficulties, we may own that it was not +much amiss.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-18" id="c2-18"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> +<h3>LORD RUFFORD MAKES UP HIS MIND.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>As it happened, Lord Rufford got the two letters together, the cause +of which was as follows.</p> + +<p>When he ran away from Mistletoe, as he certainly did, he had thought +much about that journey home in the carriage, and was quite aware +that he had made an ass of himself. As he sat at dinner on that day +at Mistletoe his neighbour had said some word to him in joke as to +his attachment to Miss Trefoil, and after the ladies had left the +room another neighbour of the other sex had hoped that he had had a +pleasant time on the road. Again, in the drawing-room it had seemed +to him that he was observed. He could not refrain from saying a few +words to Arabella as she lay on the sofa. Not to do so after what had +occurred would have been in itself peculiar. But when he did so, some +other man who was near her made way for him, as though she were +acknowledged to be altogether his property. And then the Duchess had +striven to catch him, and lead him into special conversation. When +this attempt was made he decided that he must at once retreat,—or +else make up his mind to marry the young lady. And therefore he +retreated.</p> + +<p>He breakfasted that morning at the inn at Stamford, and as he smoked +his cigar afterwards, he positively resolved that he would under no +circumstances marry Arabella Trefoil. He was being hunted and run +down, and, with the instinct of all animals that are hunted, he +prepared himself for escape. It might be said, no doubt would be +said, that he behaved badly. That would be said because it would not +be open to him to tell the truth. The lady in such a case can always +tell her story, with what exaggeration she may please to give, and +can complain. The man never can do so. When inquired into, he cannot +say that he has been pursued. He cannot tell her friends that she +began it, and in point of fact did it all. "She would fall into my +arms; she would embrace me; she persisted in asking me whether I +loved her!" Though a man have to be shot for it, or kicked for it, or +even though he have to endure perpetual scorn for it, he cannot say +that, let it be ever so true. And yet is a man to be forced into a +marriage which he despises? He would not be forced into the +marriage,—and the sooner he retreated the less would be the +metaphorical shooting and kicking and the real scorn. He must get out +of it as best he could;—but that he would get out of it he was quite +determined.</p> + +<p>That afternoon he reached Mr. Surbiton's house, as did also Captain +Battersby, and his horses, grooms, and other belongings. When there +he received a lot of letters, and among others one from Mr. Runciman, +of the Bush, inquiring as to a certain hiring of rooms and +preparation for a dinner or dinners which had been spoken of in +reference to a final shooting decreed to take place in the +neighbourhood of Dillsborough in the last week of January. Such +things were often planned by Lord Rufford, and afterwards forgotten +or neglected. When he declared his purpose to Runciman, he had not +intended to go to Mistletoe, nor to stay so long with his friend +Surbiton. But now he almost thought that it would be better for him +to be back at Rufford Hall, where at present his sister was staying +with her husband, Sir George Penwether.</p> + +<p>In the evening of the second or third day his old friend Tom Surbiton +said a few words to him which had the effect of sending him back to +Rufford. They had sat out the rest of the men who formed the party +and were alone in the smoking-room. "So you're going to marry Miss +Trefoil," said Tom Surbiton, who perhaps of all his friends was the +most intimate.</p> + +<p>"Who says so?"</p> + +<p>"I am saying so at present."</p> + +<p>"You are not saying it on your own authority. You have never seen me +and Miss Trefoil in a room together."</p> + +<p>"Everybody says so. Of course such a thing cannot be arranged without +being talked about."</p> + +<p>"It has not been arranged."</p> + +<p>"If you don't mean to have it arranged, you had better look to it. I +am speaking in earnest, Rufford. I am not going to give up +authorities. Indeed if I did I might give up everybody. The very +servants suppose that they know it, and there isn't a groom or +horseboy about who isn't in his heart congratulating the young lady +on her promotion."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what it is, Tom."</p> + +<p>"Well;—what is it?"</p> + +<p>"If this had come from any other man than yourself I should quarrel +with him. I am not engaged to the young lady, nor have I done +anything to warrant anybody in saying so."</p> + +<p>"Then I may contradict it."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you either to contradict it or affirm it. It would be +an impertinence to the young lady if I were to instruct any one to +contradict such a report. But as a fact I am not engaged to marry +Miss Trefoil, nor is there the slightest chance that I ever shall be +so engaged." So saying he took up his candlestick and walked off.</p> + +<p>Early on the next morning he saw his friend and made some sort of +laughing apology for his heat on the previous evening. "It is so +<span class="nowrap">d——</span> hard +when these kind of things are said because a man has lent +a young lady a horse. However, Tom, between you and me the thing is a +lie."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to hear it," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"And now I want you to come over to Rufford on the twenty-eighth." +Then he explained the details of his proposed party, and got his +friend to promise that he would come. He also made it understood that +he was going home at once. There were a hundred things, he said, +which made it necessary. So the horses and grooms and servant and +portmanteaus were again made to move, and Lord Rufford left his +friend on that day and went up to London on his road to Rufford.</p> + +<p>He was certainly disturbed in his mind, foreseeing that there might +be much difficulty in his way. He remembered with fair accuracy all +that had occurred during the journey from Stamford to Mistletoe. He +felt assured that up to that time he had said nothing which could be +taken to mean a real declaration of love. All that at Rufford had +been nothing. He had never said a word which could justify the girl +in a hope. In the carriage she had asked him whether he loved her, +and he had said that he did. He had also declared that he would do +anything in his power to make her happy. Was a man to be bound to +marry a girl because of such a scene as that? There was, however, +nothing for him to do except to keep out of the girl's way. If she +took any steps, then he must act. But as he thought of it, he swore +to himself that nothing should induce him to marry her.</p> + +<p>He remained a couple of days in town and reached Rufford Hall on the +Monday,—just a week from the day of that fatal meet at Peltry. There +he found Sir George and his sister and Miss Penge, and spent his +first evening in quiet. On the Tuesday he hunted with the U. R. U., +and made his arrangements with Runciman. He invited Hampton to shoot +with him. Surbiton and Battersby were coming, and his brother-in-law. +Not wishing to have less than six guns he asked Hampton how he could +make up his party. "Morton doesn't shoot," he said, "and is as stiff +as a post." Then he was told that John Morton was supposed to be very +ill at Bragton. "I'm sick of both the Botseys," continued the lord, +thinking more of his party than of Mr. Morton's health. "Purefoy is +still sulky with me because he killed poor old Caneback." Then +Hampton suggested that if he would ask Lawrence Twentyman it might be +the means of saving that unfortunate young man's life. The story of +his unrequited love was known to every one at Dillsborough and it was +now told to Lord Rufford. "He is not half a bad fellow," said +Hampton, "and quite as much like a gentleman as either of the +Botseys."</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted to save the life of so good a man on such easy +terms," said the lord. Then and there, with a pencil, on the back of +an old letter, he wrote a line to Larry asking him to shoot on next +Saturday and to dine with him afterwards at the Bush.</p> + +<p>That evening on his return home he found both the letters from +Arabella. As it happened he read them in the order in which they had +been written, first the laughing letter, and then the one that was +declared to be serious. The earlier of the two did not annoy him +much. It contained hardly more than those former letters which had +induced him to go to Mistletoe. But the second letter opened up her +entire strategy. She had told the Duchess that she was engaged to +him, and the Duchess of course would have told the Duke. And now she +wrote to him asking him to acknowledge the engagement in black and +white. The first letter he might have ignored. He might have left it +unanswered without gross misconduct. But the second letter, which she +herself had declared to be a serious epistle, was one which he could +not neglect. Now had come his difficulty. What must he do? How should +he answer it? Was it imperative on him to write the words with his +own hand? Would it be possible that he should get his sister to +undertake the commission? He said nothing about it to any one for +four and twenty hours; but he passed those hours in much discomfort. +It did seem so hard to him that because he had been forced to carry a +lady home from hunting in a postchaise, that he should be driven to +such straits as this! The girl was evidently prepared to make a fight +of it. There would be the Duke and the Duchess and that prig +Mistletoe, and that idle ass Lord Augustus, and that venomous old +woman her mother, all at him. He almost doubted whether a shooting +excursion in Central Africa or a visit to the Pampas would not be the +best thing for him. But still, though he should resolve to pass five +years among the Andes, he must answer the lady's letter before he +went.</p> + +<p>Then he made up his mind that he would tell everything to his +brother-in-law, as far as everything can be told in such a matter. +Sir George was near fifty, full fifteen years older than his wife, +who was again older than her brother. He was a man of moderate +wealth, very much respected, and supposed to be possessed of almost +infinite wisdom. He was one of those few human beings who seem never +to make a mistake. Whatever he put his hand to came out well;—and +yet everybody liked him His brother-in-law was a little afraid of +him, but yet was always glad to see him. He kept an excellent house +in London, but having no country house of his own passed much of his +time at Rufford Hall when the owner was not there. In spite of the +young peer's numerous faults Sir George was much attached to him, and +always ready to help him in his difficulties. "Penwether," said the +Lord, "I have got myself into an awful scrape."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to hear it. A woman, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I never gamble, and therefore no other scrape can be awful. +A young lady wants to marry me."</p> + +<p>"That is not unnatural."</p> + +<p>"But I am quite determined, let the result be what it may, that I +won't marry the young lady."</p> + +<p>"That will be unfortunate for her, and the more so if she has a right +to expect it. Is the young lady Miss Trefoil?"</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to mention any name,—till I was sure it might be +necessary. But it is Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor had told me something of it."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor knows nothing about this, and I do not wish you to tell her. +The young lady was here with her mother,—and for the matter of that +with a gentleman to whom she was certainly engaged;—but nothing +particular occurred here. That unfortunate ball was going on when +poor Caneback was dying. But I met her since that at Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"I can hardly advise, you know, unless you tell me everything."</p> + +<p>Then Lord Rufford began. "These kind of things are sometimes deuced +hard upon a man. Of course if a man were a saint or a philosopher or +a Joseph he wouldn't get into such scrapes,—and perhaps every man +ought to be something of that sort. But I don't know how a man is to +do it, unless it's born with him."</p> + +<p>"A little prudence I should say."</p> + +<p>"You might as well tell a fellow that it is his duty to be six feet +high."</p> + +<p>"But what have you said to the young lady,—or what has she said to +you?"</p> + +<p>"There has been a great deal more of the latter than the former. I +say so to you, but of course it is not to be said that I have said +so. I cannot go forth to the world complaining of a young lady's +conduct to me. It is a matter in which a man must not tell the +truth."</p> + +<p>"But what is the truth?"</p> + +<p>"She writes me word to say that she has told all her friends that I +am engaged to her, and kindly presses me to make good her assurances +by becoming so."</p> + +<p>"And what has passed between you?"</p> + +<p>"A fainting fit in a carriage and half-a-dozen kisses."</p> + +<p>"Nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing more that is material. Of course one cannot tell it all down +to each mawkish word of humbugging sentiment. There are her letters, +and what I want you to remember is that I never asked her to be my +wife, and that no consideration on earth shall induce me to become +her husband. Though all the duchesses in England were to persecute me +to the death I mean to stick to that."</p> + +<p>Then Sir George read the letters and handed them back. "She seems to +me," said he, "to have more wit about her than any of the family that +I have had the honour of meeting."</p> + +<p>"She has wit enough,—and pluck too."</p> + +<p>"You have never said a word to her to encourage these hopes."</p> + +<p>"My dear Penwether, don't you know that if a man with a large income +says to a girl like that that the sun shines he encourages hope. I +understand that well enough. I am a rich man with a title, and a big +house, and a great command of luxuries. There are so many young +ladies who would also like to be rich, and to have a title, and a big +house, and a command of luxuries! One sometimes feels oneself like a +carcase in the midst of vultures."</p> + +<p>"Marry after a proper fashion, and you'll get rid of all that."</p> + +<p>"I'll think about it, but in the meantime what can I say to this +young woman? When I acknowledge that I kissed her, of course I +encouraged hopes."</p> + +<p>"No doubt."</p> + +<p>"But St. Anthony would have had to kiss this young woman if she had +made her attack upon him as she did on me;—and after all a kiss +doesn't go for everything. These are things, Penwether, that must not +be inquired into too curiously. But I won't marry her though it were +a score of kisses. And now what must I do?" Sir George said that he +would take till the next morning to think about it,—meaning to make +a draft of the reply which he thought his brother-in-law might best +send to the lady.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-19" id="c2-19"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> +<h3>IT CANNOT BE ARRANGED.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Reginald Morton received his aunt's letter he understood from it +more than she had intended. Of course the man to whom allusion was +made was Mr. Twentyman; and of course the discomfort at home had come +from Mrs. Masters' approval of that suitor's claim. Reginald, though +he had seen but little of the inside of the attorney's household, +thought it very probable that the stepmother would make the girl's +home very uncomfortable for her. Though he knew well all the young +farmer's qualifications as a husband,—namely that he was well to do +in the world and bore a good character for honesty and general +conduct,—still he thoroughly, nay heartily approved of Mary's +rejection of the man's hand. It seemed to him to be sacrilege that +such a one should have given to him such a woman. There was, to his +thinking, something about Mary Masters that made it altogether unfit +that she should pass her life as the mistress of Chowton Farm, and he +honoured her for the persistence of her refusal. He took his pipe and +went out into the garden in order that he might think of it all as he +strolled round his little domain.</p> + +<p>But why should he think so much about it? Why should he take so deep +an interest in the matter? What was it to him whether Mary Masters +married after her kind, or descended into what he felt to be an +inferior manner of life? Then he tried to tell himself what were the +gifts in the girl's possession which made her what she was, and he +pictured her to himself, running over all her attributes. It was not +that she specially excelled in beauty. He had seen Miss Trefoil as +she was being driven about the neighbourhood, and having heard much +of the young lady as the future wife of his own cousin, had +acknowledged to himself that she was very handsome. But he had +thought at the same time that under no possible circumstances could +he have fallen in love with Miss Trefoil. He believed that he did not +care much for female beauty, and yet he felt that he could sit and +look at Mary Masters by the hour together. There was a quiet even +composure about her, always lightened by the brightness of her modest +eyes, which seemed to tell him of some mysterious world within, which +was like the unseen loveliness that one fancies to be hidden within +the bosom of distant mountains. There was a poem to be read there of +surpassing beauty, rhythmical and eloquent as the music of the +spheres, if it might only be given to a man to read it. There was an +absence, too, of all attempt at feminine self-glorification which he +did not analyse but thoroughly appreciated. There was no fussy +amplification of hair, no made-up smiles, no affectation either in +her good humour or her anger, no attempt at effect in her gait, in +her speech, or her looks. She seemed to him to be one who had +something within her on which she could feed independently of the +grosser details of the world to which it was her duty to lend her +hand. And then her colour charmed his eyes. Miss Trefoil was white +and red;—white as pearl powder and red as paint. Mary Masters, to +tell the truth, was brown. No doubt that was the prevailing colour, +if one colour must be named. But there was so rich a tint of young +life beneath the surface, so soft but yet so visible an assurance of +blood and health and spirit, that no one could describe her +complexion by so ugly a word without falsifying her gifts. In all her +movements she was tranquil, as a noble woman should be. Even when she +had turned from him with some anger at the bridge, she had walked +like a princess. There was a certainty of modesty about her which was +like a granite wall or a strong fortress. As he thought of it all he +did not understand how such a one as Lawrence Twentyman should have +dared to ask her to be his wife,—or should even have wished it.</p> + +<p>We know what were her feelings in regard to himself,—how she had +come to look almost with worship on the walls within which he lived; +but he had guessed nothing of this. Even now, when he knew that she +had applied to his aunt in order that she might escape from her +lover, it did not occur to him that she could care for himself. He +was older than she, nearly twenty years older, and even in his +younger years, in the hard struggles of his early life, had never +regarded himself as a man likely to find favour with women. There was +in his character much of that modesty for which he gave her such +infinite credit. Though he thought but little of most of those around +him, he thought also but little of himself. It would break his heart +to ask and be refused;—but he could, he fancied, live very well +without Mary Masters. Such, at any rate, had been his own idea of +himself hitherto; and now, though he was driven to think much of her, +though on the present occasion he was forced to act on her behalf, he +would not tell himself that he wanted to take her for his wife. He +constantly assured himself that he wanted no wife, that for him a +solitary life would be the best. But yet it made him wretched when he +reflected that some man would assuredly marry Mary Masters. He had +heard of that excellent but empty-headed young man Mr. Surtees. When +the idea occurred to him he found himself reviling Mr. Surtees as +being of all men the most puny, the most unmanly, and the least +worthy of marrying Mary Masters. Now that Mr. Twentyman was certainly +disposed of, he almost became jealous of Mr. Surtees.</p> + +<p>It was not till three or four o'clock in the afternoon that he went +out on his commission to the attorney's house, having made up his +mind that he would do everything in his power to facilitate Mary's +proposed return to Cheltenham. He asked first for Mr. Masters and +then for Miss Masters, and learned that they were both out together. +But he had been desired also to see Mrs. Masters, and on inquiring +for her was again shown into the grand drawing-room. Here he remained +a quarter of an hour while the lady of the house was changing her cap +and apron, which he spent in convincing himself that this house was +altogether an unfit residence for Mary. In the chamber in which he +was standing it was clear enough that no human being ever lived. +Mary's drawing-room ought to be a bower in which she at least might +pass her time with books and music and pretty things around her. The +squalor of the real living room might be conjectured from the +untouched cleanliness of this useless sanctum. At last the lady came +to him and welcomed him with very grim courtesy. As a client of her +husband he was very well;—but as a nephew of Lady Ushant he was +injurious. It was he who had carried Mary away to Cheltenham where +she had been instigated to throw her bread-and-butter into the +fire,—as Mrs. Masters expressed it,—by that pernicious old woman +Lady Ushant. "Mr. Masters is out walking," she said. Reginald clearly +understood by the contempt which she threw almost unconsciously into +her words that she did not approve of her husband going out walking +at such an hour.</p> + +<p>"I had a message for him—and also for you. My aunt, Lady Ushant, is +very anxious that your daughter Mary should return to her at +Cheltenham for a while." The proposition to Mrs. Masters' thinking +was so monstrous, and was at the same time so unexpected, that it +almost took away her breath. At any rate she stood for a moment +speechless. "My aunt is very fond of your daughter," he continued, +"and if she can be spared would be delighted to have her. Perhaps she +has written to Miss Masters, but she has asked me to come over and +see if it cannot be arranged."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be arranged," said Mrs. Masters. "Nothing of the kind can +be arranged."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that."</p> + +<p>"It is only disturbing the girl, and upsetting her, and filling her +head full of nonsense. What is she to do at Cheltenham? This is her +home and here she had better be." Though things had hitherto gone +very badly, though Larry Twentyman had not shown himself since the +receipt of the letter, still Mrs. Masters had not abandoned all hope. +She was fixed in opinion that if her husband were joined with her +they could still, between them, so break the girl's spirit as to +force her into a marriage. "As for letters," she continued, "I don't +know anything about them. There may have been letters but if so they +have been kept from me." She was so angry that she could not even +attempt to conceal her wrath.</p> + +<p>"Lady Ushant thinks—" began the messenger.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, Lady Ushant is very well of course. Lady Ushant is your +aunt, Mr. Morton, and I haven't anything to say against her. But Lady +Ushant can't do any good to that girl. She has got her bread to earn, +and if she won't do it one way then she must do it another. She's +obstinate and pigheaded, that's the truth of it. And her father's +just as bad. He has taken her out now merely because she likes to be +idle, and to go about thinking herself a fine lady. Lady Ushant +doesn't do her any good at all by cockering her up."</p> + +<p>"My aunt, you know, saw very much of her when she was young."</p> + +<p>"I know she did, Mr. Morton; and all that has to be undone,—and I +have got the undoing of it. Lady Ushant is one thing and her papa's +business is quite another. At any rate if I have my say she'll not go +to Cheltenham any more. I don't mean to be uncivil to you, Mr. +Morton, or to say anything as oughtn't to be said of your aunt. But +when you can't make people anything but what they are, it's my +opinion that it's best to leave them alone. Good day to you, sir, and +I hope you understand what it is that I mean."</p> + +<p>Then Morton retreated and went down the stairs, leaving the lady in +possession of her own grandeur. He had not quite understood what she +had meant, and was still wondering at the energy of her opposition +when he met Mary herself at the front door. Her father was not with +her, but his retreating form was to be seen entering the portal of +the Bush. "Oh, Mr. Morton!" exclaimed Mary surprised to have the +house-door opened for her by him.</p> + +<p>"I have come with a message from my aunt."</p> + +<p>"She told me that you would do so."</p> + +<p>"Lady Ushant would of course be delighted to have you if it could be +arranged."</p> + +<p>"Then Lady Ushant will be disappointed," said Mrs. Masters who had +descended the stairs. "There has been something going on behind my +back."</p> + +<p>"I wrote to Lady Ushant," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"I call that sly and deceitful;—very sly and very deceitful. If I +know it you won't stir out of this house to go to Cheltenham. I +wonder Lady Ushant would go to put you up in that way against those +you're bound to obey."</p> + +<p>"I thought Mrs. Masters had been told," said Reginald.</p> + +<p>"Papa did know that I wrote," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Yes;—and in this way a conspiracy is to be made up in the house! If +she goes to Cheltenham I won't stay here. You may tell Lady Ushant +that I say that. I'm not going to be one thing one day and another +another, and to be made a tool of all round." By this time Dolly and +Kate had come down from the upper regions and were standing behind +their mother. "What do you two do there, standing gaping like fools?" +said the angry mother. "I suppose your father has gone over to the +public-house again. That, miss, is what comes from your +pigheadedness. Didn't I tell you that you were ruining everybody +belonging to you?" Before all this was over Reginald Morton had +escaped, feeling that he could do no good to either side by remaining +a witness to such a scene. He must take some other opportunity of +finding the attorney and of learning from him whether he intended +that his daughter should be allowed to accept Lady Ushant's +invitation.</p> + +<p>Poor Mary as she shrunk into the house was nearly heartbroken. That +such things should be at all was very dreadful, but that the scene +should have taken place in the presence of Reginald Morton was an +aggravation of the misery which nearly overwhelmed her. How could she +make him understand whence had arisen her stepmother's anger and that +she herself had been neither sly nor deceitful nor pigheaded?</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-20" id="c2-20"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> +<h3>"BUT THERE IS SOME ONE."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Mr. Masters had gone across to the Bush his purpose had +certainly been ignoble, but it had had no reference to brandy and +water. And the allusion made by Mrs. Masters to the probable ruin +which was to come from his tendencies in that direction had been +calumnious, for she knew that the man was not given to excess in +liquor. But as he approached his own house he bethought himself that +it would not lead to domestic comfort if he were seen returning from +his walk with Mary, and he had therefore made some excuse as to the +expediency of saying a word to Runciman whom he espied at his own +door. He said his word to Runciman, and so loitered away perhaps a +quarter of an hour, and then went back to his office. But his wife +had kept her anger at burning heat and pounced upon him before he had +taken his seat. Sundown was there copying, sitting with his eyes +intent on the board before him as though he were quite unaware of the +sudden entrance of his master's wife. She in her fury did not regard +Sundown in the least, but at once commenced her attack. "What is all +this, Mr. Masters," she said, "about Lady Ushant and going to +Cheltenham? I won't have any going to Cheltenham and that's flat." +Now the attorney had altogether made up his mind that his daughter +should go to Cheltenham if her friend would receive her. Whatever +might be the consequences, they must be borne. But he thought it best +to say nothing at the first moment of the attack, and simply turned +his sorrowful round face in silence up to the partner of all his +cares and the source of so many of them. "There have been letters," +continued the lady;—"letters which nobody has told me nothing about. +That proud peacock from Hoppet Hall has been here, as though he had +nothing to do but carry Mary away about the country just as he +pleased. Mary won't go to Cheltenham with him nor yet without +him;—not if I am to remain here."</p> + +<p>"Where else should you remain, my dear?" asked the attorney.</p> + +<p>"I'd sooner go into the workhouse than have all this turmoil. That's +where we are all likely to go if you pass your time between walking +about with that minx and the public-house opposite." Then the +attorney was aware that he had been watched, and his spirit began to +rise within him. He looked at Sundown, but the man went on copying +quicker than ever.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Mr. Masters, "you shouldn't talk in that way before +the clerk. I wanted to speak to Mr. Runciman, and, as to the +workhouse, I don't know that there is any more danger now than there +has been for the last twenty years."</p> + +<p>"It's always off and on as far as I can see. Do you mean to send that +girl to Cheltenham?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think she had better go—for a time."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall leave this house and go with my girls to Norrington." +Now this threat, which had been made before, was quite without +meaning. Mrs. Masters' parents were both dead, and her brother, who +had a large family, certainly would not receive her. "I won't remain +here, Mr. Masters, if I ain't to be mistress of my own house. What is +she to go to Cheltenham for, I should like to know?"</p> + +<p>Then Sundown was desired by his wretched employer to go into the back +settlement and the poor man prepared himself for the battle as well +as he could. "She is not happy here," he said.</p> + +<p>"Whose fault is that? Why shouldn't she be happy? Of course you know +what it means. She has got round you because she wants to be a fine +lady. What means have you to make her a fine lady? If you was to die +to-morrow what would there be for any of 'em? My little bit of money +is all gone. Let her stay here and be made to marry Lawrence +Twentyman. That's what I say."</p> + +<p>"She will never marry Mr. Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"Not if you go on like this she won't. If you'd done your duty by her +like a real father instead of being afraid of her when she puts on +her tantrums, she'd have been at Chowton Farm by this time."</p> + +<p>It was clear to him that now was the time not to be afraid of his +wife when she put on her tantrums,—or at any rate, to appear not to +be afraid. "She has been very unhappy of late."</p> + +<p>"Oh, unhappy! She's been made more of than anybody else in this +house."</p> + +<p>"And a change will do her good. She has my permission to go;—and go +she shall!" Then the word had been spoken.</p> + +<p>"She shall!"</p> + +<p>"It is very much for the best. While she is here the house is made +wretched for us all."</p> + +<p>"It'll be wretcheder yet; unless it would make you happy to see me +dead on the threshold,—which I believe it would. As for her, she's +an ungrateful, sly, wicked slut."</p> + +<p>"She has done nothing wicked that I know of."</p> + +<p>"Not writing to that old woman behind my back?"</p> + +<p>"She told me what she was doing and showed me the letter."</p> + +<p>"Yes; of course. The two of you were in it. Does that make it any +better? I say it was sly and wicked; and you were sly and wicked as +well as she. She has got the better of you, and now you are going to +send her away from the only chance she'll ever get of having a decent +home of her own over her head."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing more to be said about it, my dear. She'll go to Lady +Ushant." Having thus pronounced his dictum with all the marital +authority he was able to assume he took his hat and sallied forth. +Mrs. Masters, when she was left alone, stamped her foot and hit the +desk with a ruler that was lying there. Then she went up-stairs and +threw herself on her bed in a paroxysm of weeping and wailing.</p> + +<p>Mr. Masters, when he closed his door, looked up the street and down +the street and then again went across to the Bush. Mr. Runciman was +still there, and was standing with a letter in his hand, while one of +the grooms from Rufford Hall was holding a horse beside him. "Any +answer, Mr. Runciman?" said the groom.</p> + +<p>"Only to tell his lordship that everything will be ready for him. +You'd better go through and give the horse a feed of corn, and get a +bit of something to eat and a glass of beer yourself." The man wasn't +slow to do as he was bid;—and in this way the Bush had become very +popular with the servants of the gentry around the place. "His +lordship is to be here from Friday to Sunday with a party, Mr. +Masters."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed."</p> + +<p>"For the end of the shooting. And who do you think he has asked to be +one of the party?"</p> + +<p>"Not Mr. Reginald?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think they ever spoke in their lives. Who but Larry +Twentyman!"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"It'll be the making of Larry. I only hope he won't cock his beaver +too high."</p> + +<p>"Is he coming?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. He'll be sure to come. His Lordship only tells me that +there are to be six of 'em on Saturday and five on Friday night. But +the lad there knew who they all were. There's Mr. Surbiton and +Captain Battersby and Sir George are to come over with his lordship +from Rufford. And young Mr. Hampton is to join them here, and Larry +Twentyman is to shoot with them on Saturday and dine afterwards. +Won't those two Botseys be jealous; that's all?"</p> + +<p>"It only shows what they think of Larry," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Larry Twentyman is a very good fellow," said the landlord. "I don't +know a better fellow round Dillsborough, or one who is more always on +the square. But he's weak. You know him as well as I, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"He's not so weak but what he can keep what he's got."</p> + +<p>"This'll be the way to try him. He'd melt away like water into sand +if he were to live for a few weeks with such men as his Lordship's +friends. I suppose there's no chance of his taking a wife home to +Chowton with him?" The attorney shook his head. "That'd be the making +of him, Mr. Masters; a good girl like that who'd keep him at home. If +he takes it to heart he'll burst out somewhere and spend a lot of +money."</p> + +<p>The attorney declined Mr. Runciman's offer of a glass of beer and +slowly made his way round the corner of the inn by Hobb's gate to the +front door of Hoppet Hall. Then he passed on to the churchyard, still +thinking of the misery of his position. When he reached the church he +turned back, still going very slowly, and knocked at the door of +Hoppet Hall. He was shown at once by Reginald's old housekeeper up to +the library, and there in a few minutes he was joined by the master +of the house. "I was over looking for you an hour or two ago," said +Reginald.</p> + +<p>"I heard you were there, Mr. Morton, and so I thought I would come to +you. You didn't see Mary?"</p> + +<p>"I just saw her,—but could hardly say much. She had written to my +aunt about going to Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>"I saw the letter before she sent it, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"So she told me. My aunt would be delighted to have her, but it seems +that Mrs. Masters does not wish her to go."</p> + +<p>"There is some trouble about it, Mr. Morton;—but I may as well tell +you at once that I wish her to go. She would be better for awhile at +Cheltenham with such a lady as your aunt than she can be at home. Her +stepmother and she cannot agree on a certain point. I dare say you +know what it is, Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"In regard, I suppose, to Mr. Twentyman?"</p> + +<p>"Just that. Mrs. Masters thinks that Mr. Twentyman would make an +excellent husband. And so do I. There's nothing in the world against +him, and as compared with me he's a rich man. I couldn't give the +poor girl any fortune, and he wouldn't want any. But money isn't +everything."</p> + +<p>"No indeed."</p> + +<p>"He's an industrious steady young man too, and he has had my word +with him all through. But I can't compel my girl to marry him if she +don't like him. I can't even try to compel her. She's as good a girl +as ever stirred about a house."</p> + +<p>"I can well believe that."</p> + +<p>"And nothing would take such a load off me as to know that she was +going to be well married. But as she don't like the young man well +enough, I won't have her hardly used."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Masters perhaps is—hard to her."</p> + +<p>"God forbid I should say anything against my wife. I never did, and I +won't now. But Mary will be better away; and if Lady Ushant will be +good enough to take her, she shall go."</p> + +<p>"When will she be ready, Mr. Masters?"</p> + +<p>"I must ask her about that;—in a week perhaps, or ten days."</p> + +<p>"She is quite decided against the young man?"</p> + +<p>"Quite. At the bidding of all of us she said she'd take two months to +think of it. But before the time was up she wrote to him to say it +could never be. It quite upset my wife; because it would have been +such an excellent arrangement."</p> + +<p>Reginald wished to learn more but hardly knew how to ask the father +questions. Yet, as he had been trusted so far, he thought that he +might be trusted altogether. "I must own," he said, "that I think +that Mr. Twentyman would hardly be a fit husband for your daughter."</p> + +<p>"He is a very good young man."</p> + +<p>"Very likely;—but she is something more than a very good young +woman. A young lady with her gifts will be sure to settle well in +life some day." The attorney shook his head. He had lived long enough +to see many young ladies with good gifts find it difficult to settle +in life; and perhaps that mysterious poem which Reginald found in +Mary's eyes was neither visible nor audible to Mary's father. "I did +hear," said Reginald, "that Mr. +<span class="nowrap">Surtees—"</span></p> + +<p>"There's nothing in that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed. I thought that perhaps as she is so determined not to do +as her friends would wish, that there might be something else." He +said this almost as a question, looking close into the attorney's +eyes as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"It is always possible," said Mr. Masters.</p> + +<p>"But you don't think there is anybody?"</p> + +<p>"It is very hard to say, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"You don't expect anything of that sort?"</p> + +<p>Then the attorney broke forth into sudden confidence. "To tell the +truth then, Mr. Morton, I think there is somebody, though who it is I +know as little as the baby unborn. She sees nobody here at +Dillsborough to be intimate with. She isn't one of those who would +write letters or do anything on the sly."</p> + +<p>"But there is some one?"</p> + +<p>"She told me as much herself. That is, when I asked her she would not +deny it. Then I thought that perhaps it might be somebody at +Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>"I think not."</p> + +<p>"She was there so short a time, Mr. Morton; and Lady Ushant would be +the last person in the world to let such a thing as that go on +without telling her parents."</p> + +<p>"I don't think there was any one at Cheltenham. She was only there a +month."</p> + +<p>"I did fancy that perhaps that was one reason why she should want to +go back."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it. I don't in the least believe it," said Reginald +enthusiastically. "My aunt would have been sure to have seen it. It +would have been impossible without her knowledge. But there is +somebody?"</p> + +<p>"I think so, Mr. Morton;—and if she does go to Cheltenham perhaps +Lady Ushant had better know." To this Reginald agreed, or half +agreed. It did not seem to him to be of much consequence what might +be done at Cheltenham. He felt certain that the lover was not there. +And yet who was there at Dillsborough? He had seen those young +Botseys about. Could it possibly be one of them? And during the +Christmas vacation the rector's scamp of a son had been home from +Oxford,—to whom Mary Masters had barely spoken. Was it young +Mainwaring? Or could it be possible that she had turned an eye of +favour on Dr. Nupper's elegantly-dressed assistant. There was nothing +too monstrous for him to suggest to himself as soon as the attorney +had left him.</p> + +<p>But there was a young man in Dillsborough,—one man at any rate young +enough to be a lover,—of whom Reginald did not think; as to whom, +had his name been suggested as that of the young man to whom Mary's +heart had been given, he would have repudiated such a suggestion with +astonishment and anger. But now, having heard this from the girl's +father, he was again vexed, and almost as much disgusted as when he +had first become aware that Larry Twentyman was a suitor for her +hand. Why should he trouble himself about a girl who was ready to +fall in love with the first man that she saw about the place? He +tried to pacify himself by some such question as this, but tried in +vain.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-21" id="c2-21"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> +<h3>THE DINNER AT THE BUSH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Here is the letter which at his brother-in-law's advice Lord Rufford +wrote to Arabella:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Rufford, 3 February, 1875.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Miss Trefoil</span>,</p> + +<p>It is a great grief to me that I should have to answer +your letter in a manner that will I fear not be +satisfactory to you. I can only say that you have +altogether mistaken me if you think that I have said +anything which was intended as an offer of marriage. I +cannot but be much flattered by your good opinion. I have +had much pleasure from our acquaintance, and I should have +been glad if it could have been continued. But I have had +no thoughts of marriage. If I have said a word which has, +unintentionally on my part, given rise to such an idea I +can only beg your pardon heartily. If I were to add more +after what I have now said perhaps you would take it as an +impertinence.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Yours most sincerely,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Rufford</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>He had desired to make various additions and suggestions which +however had all been disallowed by Sir George Penwether. He had +proposed among other things to ask her whether he should keep Jack +for her for the remainder of the season or whether he should send the +horse elsewhere, but Sir George would not allow a word in the letter +about Jack. "You did give her the horse then?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I had hardly any alternative as the things went. She would have been +quite welcome to the horse if she would have let me alone +afterwards."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; but when young gentlemen give young ladies +<span class="nowrap">horses—"</span></p> + +<p>"I know all about it, my dear fellow. Pray don't preach more than you +can help. Of course I have been an infernal ass. I know all that. But +as the horse is <span class="nowrap">hers—"</span></p> + +<p>"Say nothing about the horse. Were she to ask for it of course she +could have it; but that is not likely."</p> + +<p>"And you think I had better say nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Not a word. Of course it will be shown to all her friends and may +possibly find its way into print. I don't know what steps such a +young lady may be advised to take. Her uncle is a man of honour. Her +father is an ass and careless about everything. Mistletoe will not +improbably feel himself bound to act as though he were her brother. +They will, of course, all think you to be a rascal,—and will say +so."</p> + +<p>"If Mistletoe says so I'll horsewhip him."</p> + +<p>"No you won't, Rufford. You will remember that this woman is a woman, +and that a woman's friends are bound to stand up for her. After all +your hands are not quite clean in the matter."</p> + +<p>"I am heavy enough on myself, Penwether. I have been a fool and I own +it. But I have done nothing unbecoming a gentleman." He was almost +tempted to quarrel with his brother-in-law, but at last he allowed +the letter to be sent just as Sir George had written it, and then +tried to banish the affair from his mind for the present so that he +might enjoy his life till the next hostile step should be taken by +the Trefoil clan.</p> + +<p>When Larry Twentyman received the lord's note, which was left at +Chowton Farm by Hampton's groom, he was in the lowest depth of +desolation. He had intended to hunt that day in compliance with John +Morton's advice, but had felt himself quite unable to make the +effort. It was not only that he had been thrown over by Mary Masters, +but that everybody knew that he had been thrown over. If he had kept +the matter secret, perhaps he might have borne it;—but it is so hard +to bear a sorrow of which all one's neighbours are conscious. When a +man is reduced by poverty to the drinking of beer instead of wine, it +is not the loss of the wine that is so heavy on him as the +consciousness that those around him are aware of the reason. And he +is apt to extend his idea of this consciousness to a circle that is +altogether indifferent of the fact. That a man should fail in his +love seems to him to be of all failures the most contemptible, and +Larry thought that there would not be one in the field unaware of his +miserable rejection. In spite of his mother's prayers he had refused +to go, and had hung about the farm all day.</p> + +<p>Then there came to him Lord Rufford's note. It had been quite +unexpected, and a month or two before, when his hopes had still been +high in regard to Mary Masters, would have filled him with delight. +It was the foible of his life to be esteemed a gentleman, and his +poor ambition to be allowed to live among men of higher social +standing than himself. Those dinners of Lord Rufford's at the Bush +had been a special grief to him. The young lord had been always +courteous to him in the field, and he had been able, as he thought, +to requite such courtesy by little attentions in the way of game +preserving. If pheasants from Dillsborough Wood ate Goarly's wheat, +so did they eat Larry Twentyman's barley. He had a sportsman's heart, +above complaint as to such matters, and had always been neighbourly +to the lord. No doubt pheasants and hares were left at his house +whenever there was shooting in the neighbourhood,—which to his +mother afforded great consolation. But Larry did not care for the +pheasants and hares. Had he so pleased he could have shot them on his +own land; but he did not preserve, and, as a good neighbour, he +regarded the pheasants and hares as Lord Rufford's property. He felt +that he was behaving as a gentleman as well as a neighbour, and that +he should be treated as such. Fred Botsey had dined at the Bush with +Lord Rufford, and Larry looked on Fred as in no way better than +himself.</p> + +<p>Now at last the invitation had come. He was asked to a day's shooting +and to dine with the lord and his party at the inn. How pleasant +would it be to give a friendly nod to Runciman as he went into the +room, and to assert afterwards in Botsey's hearing something of the +joviality of the evening. Of course Hampton would be there as +Hampton's servant had brought the note, and he was very anxious to be +on friendly terms with Mr. Hampton. Next to the lord himself there +was no one in the hunt who carried his head so high as young Hampton.</p> + +<p>But there arose to him the question whether all this had not arrived +too late! Of what good is it to open up the true delights of life to +a man when you have so scotched and wounded him that he has no +capability left of enjoying anything? As he sat lonely with his pipe +in his mouth he thought for a while that he would decline the +invitation. The idea of selling Chowton Farm and of establishing +himself at some Antipodes in which the name of Mary Masters should +never have been heard, was growing upon him. Of what use would the +friendship of Lord Rufford be to him at the other side of the globe?</p> + +<p>At last, however, the hope of giving that friendly nod to Runciman +overcame him, and he determined to go. He wrote a note, which caused +him no little thought, presenting his compliments to Lord Rufford and +promising to meet his lordship's party at Dillsborough Wood.</p> + +<p>The shooting went off very well and Larry behaved himself with +propriety. He wanted the party to come in and lunch, and had given +sundry instructions to his mother on that head. But they did not +remain near to his place throughout the day, and his efforts in that +direction were not successful. Between five and six he went home, and +at half-past seven appeared at the Bush attired in his best. He never +yet had sat down with a lord, and his mind misgave him a little; but +he had spirit enough to look about for Runciman,—who, however, was +not to be seen.</p> + +<p>Sir George was not there, but the party had been made up, as regarded +the dinner, by the addition of Captain Glomax, who had returned from +hunting. Captain Glomax was in high glee, having had,—as he +declared,—the run of the season. When a Master has been deserted on +any day by the choice spirits of his hunt he is always apt to boast +to them that he had on that occasion the run of the season. He had +taken a fox from Impington right across to Hogsborough, which, as +every one knows, is just on the borders of the U. R. U., had then run +him for five miles into Lord Chiltern's country, and had killed him +in the centre of the Brake Hunt, after an hour and a half, almost +without a check. "It was one of those straight things that one +doesn't often see now-a-days," said Glomax.</p> + +<p>"Any pace?" asked Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"Very good, indeed, for the first forty minutes. I wish you had all +been there. It was better fun I take it than shooting rabbits."</p> + +<p>Then Hampton put the Captain through his facings as to time and +distance and exact places that had been passed, and ended by +expressing an opinion that he could have kicked his hat as fast on +foot. Whereupon the Captain begged him to try, and hinted that he did +not know the country. In answer to which Hampton offered to bet a +five-pound note that young Jack Runce would say that the pace had +been slow. Jack was the son of the old farmer whom the Senator had so +disgusted, and was supposed to know what he was about on a horse. But +Glomax declined the bet saying that he did not care a +<span class="nowrap">——</span> for Jack +Runce. He knew as much about pace as any farmer, or for the matter of +that any gentleman, in Ufford or Rufford, and the pace for forty +minutes had been very good. Nevertheless all the party were convinced +that the "thing" had been so slow that it had not been worth riding +to;—a conviction which is not uncommon with gentlemen when they have +missed a run. In all this discussion poor Larry took no great part +though he knew the country as well as any one. Larry had not as yet +got over the awe inspired by the lord in his black coat.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Larry's happiest moment in the evening was when Runciman +himself brought in the soup, for at that moment Lord Rufford put his +hand on his shoulder and desired him to sit down,—and Runciman both +heard and saw it. And at dinner, when the champagne had been twice +round, he became more comfortable. The conversation got upon Goarly, +and in reference to that matter he was quite at home. "It's not my +doing," said Lord Rufford. "I have instructed no one to keep him +locked up."</p> + +<p>"It's a very good job from all that I can hear," said Tom Surbiton.</p> + +<p>"All I did was to get Mr. Masters here to take up the case for me, +and I learned from him to-day that the rascal had already agreed to +take the money I offered. He only bargains that it shall be paid into +his own hands,—no doubt desiring to sell the attorney he has +employed."</p> + +<p>"Bearside has got his money from the American Senator, my lord," said +Larry.</p> + +<p>"They may fight it out among them. I don't care who gets the money or +who pays it as long as I'm not imposed upon."</p> + +<p>"We must proceed against that man Scrobby," said Glomax with all the +authority of a Master.</p> + +<p>"You'll never convict him on Goarly's evidence," said the Lord.</p> + +<p>Then Larry could give them further information. Nickem had positively +traced the purchase of the red herrings. An old woman in Rufford was +ready to swear that she herself had sold them to Mrs. Scrobby. Tom +Surbiton suggested that the possession of red herrings was not of +itself a crime. Hampton thought that it was corroborative. Captain +Battersby wanted to know whether any of the herrings were still in +existence, so that they could be sworn to. Glomax was of opinion that +villainy of so deep a dye could not have taken place in any other +hunting country in England.</p> + +<p>"There's been strychnine put down in the Brake too," said Hampton.</p> + +<p>"But not in cartloads," said the Master.</p> + +<p>"I rather think," said Larry, "that Nickem knows where the strychnine +was bought. That'll make a clear case of it. Hanging would be too +good for such a scoundrel." This was said after the third glass of +champagne, but the opinion was one which was well received by the +whole company. After that the Senator's conduct was discussed, and +they all agreed that in the whole affair that was the most marvellous +circumstance. "They must be queer people over there," said Larry.</p> + +<p>"Brutes!" said Glomax. "They once tried a pack of hounds somewhere in +one of the States, but they never could run a yard."</p> + +<p>There was a good deal of wine drank, which was not unusual at Lord +Rufford's dinners. Most of the company were seasoned vessels, and +none of them were much the worse for what they drank. But the +generous wine got to Larry's heart, and perhaps made his brain a +little soft. Lord Rufford remembering what had been said about the +young man's misery tried to console him by attention; and as the +evening wore on, and when the second cigars had been lit all round, +the two were seated together in confidential conversation at a corner +of the table. "Yes, my lord; I think I shall hook it," said Larry. +"Something has occurred that has made the place not quite so +comfortable to me; and as it is all my own I think I shall sell it."</p> + +<p>"We should miss you immensely in the hunt," said Lord Rufford, who of +course knew what the something was.</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you to say so, my lord. But there are things which +may make a man go."</p> + +<p>"Nothing serious, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Just a young woman, my lord. I don't want it talked about, but I +don't mind mentioning it to you."</p> + +<p>"You should never let those troubles touch you so closely," said his +lordship, whose own withers at this moment were by no means unwrung.</p> + +<p>"I dare say not. But if you feel it, how are you to help it? I shall +do very well when I get away. Chowton Farm is not the only spot in +the world."</p> + +<p>"But a man so fond of hunting as you are!"</p> + +<p>"Well;—yes. I shall miss the hunting, my lord,—shan't I? If Mr. +Morton don't buy the place I should like it to go to your lordship. I +offered it to him first because it came from them."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. By-the-bye, I hear that Mr. Morton is very ill."</p> + +<p>"So I heard," said Larry. "Nupper has been with him, I know, and I +fancy they have sent for somebody from London. I don't know that he +cares much about the land. He thinks more of the foreign parts he's +always in. I don't believe we should fall out about the price, my +lord." Then Lord Rufford explained that he would not go into that +matter just at present, but that if the place were in the market he +would certainly like to buy it. He, however, did as John Morton had +done before, and endeavoured to persuade the poor fellow that he +should not alter the whole tenor of his life because a young lady +would not look at him.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Mr. Runciman," said Larry as he made his way down-stairs +to the yard. "We've had an uncommon pleasant evening."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, Larry." Larry thought that his +Christian name from the hotel keeper's lips had never sounded so +offensively as on the present occasion.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-22" id="c2-22"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> +<h3>MISS TREFOIL'S DECISION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lord Rufford's letter reached Arabella at her cousin's house, in due +course, and was handed to her in the morning as she came down to +breakfast. The envelope bore his crest and coronet, and she was sure +that more than one pair of eyes had already seen it. Her mother had +been in the room some time before her, and would of course know that +the letter was from Lord Rufford. An indiscreet word or two had been +said in the hearing of Mrs. Connop Green,—as to which Arabella had +already scolded her mother most vehemently, and Mrs. Connop Green too +would probably have seen the letter, and would know that it had come +from the lover of whom boasts had been made. The Connop Greens would +be ready to worship Arabella down to the very soles of her feet if +she were certainly,—without a vestige of doubt,—engaged to be the +wife of Lord Rufford. But there had been so many previous mistakes! +And they, too, had heard of Mr. John Morton. They too were a little +afraid of Arabella though she was undoubtedly the niece of a Duke.</p> + +<p>She was aware now,—as always,—how much depended on her personal +bearing; but this was a moment of moments! She would fain have kept +the letter, and have opened it in the retirement of her own room. She +knew its terrible importance, and was afraid of her own countenance +when she should read it. All the hopes of her life were contained in +that letter. But were she to put it in her pocket she would betray +her anxiety by doing so. She found herself bound to open it and read +it at once,—and she did open it and read it.</p> + +<p>After all it was what she had expected. It was very decided, very +short, very cold, and carrying with it no sign of weakness. But it +was of such a letter that she had thought when she resolved that she +would apply to Lord Mistletoe, and endeavour to put the whole family +of Trefoil in arms. She had been,—so she had assured herself,—quite +sure that that kind, loving response which she had solicited, would +not be given to her. But yet the stern fact, now that it was +absolutely in her hands, almost overwhelmed her. She could not +restrain the dull dead look of heart-breaking sorrow which for a few +moments clouded her face,—a look which took away all her beauty, +lengthening her cheeks, and robbing her eyes of that vivacity which +it was the task of her life to assume. "Is anything the matter, my +dear?" asked Mrs. Connop Green.</p> + +<p>Then she made a final effort,—an heroic effort. "What do you think, +mamma?" she said, paying no attention to her cousin's inquiry.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Arabella?"</p> + +<p>"Jack got some injury that day at Peltry, and is so lame that they +don't know whether he'll ever put his foot to the ground again."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow," said Mr. Green. "Who is Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Jack is a horse, Mr. Green;—and such a horse that one cannot but be +sorry for him. Poor Jack! I don't know any Christian whose lameness +would be such a nuisance."</p> + +<p>"Does Lord Rufford write about his horses?" asked Mrs. Connop Green, +thus betraying that knowledge as to the letter which she had obtained +from the envelope.</p> + +<p>"If you must know all the truth about it," said Arabella, "the horse +is my horse, and not Lord Rufford's. And as he is the only horse I +have got, and as he's the dearest horse in all the world, you must +excuse my being a little sorry about him. Poor Jack!" After that the +breakfast was eaten and everybody in the room believed the story of +the horse's lameness—except Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>When breakfast and the loitering after breakfast were well over, so +that she could escape without exciting any notice, she made her way +up to her bedroom. In a few minutes,—so that again there should be +nothing noticeable,—her mother followed her. But her door was +locked. "It is I, Arabella," said her mother.</p> + +<p>"You can't come in at present, mamma. I am busy."</p> + +<p>"But Arabella."</p> + +<p>"You can't come in at present, mamma." Then Lady Augustus slowly +glided away to her own room and there waited for tidings.</p> + +<p>The whole form of the girl's face was altered when she was alone. Her +features in themselves were not lovely. Her cheeks and chin were +heavy. Her brow was too low, and her upper lip too long. Her nose and +teeth were good, and would have been very handsome had they belonged +to a man. Her complexion had always been good till it had been +injured by being improved,—and so was the carriage of her head and +the outside lines of her bust and figure, and her large eyes, though +never soft, could be bright and sparkle. Skill had done much for her +and continued effort almost more. But now the effort was dropped and +that which skill had done turned against her. She was haggard, lumpy, +and almost hideous in her bewildered grief.</p> + +<p>Had there been a word of weakness in the short letter she might have +founded upon it some hope. It did not occur to her that he had had +the letter written for him, and she was astonished at its curt +strength. How could he dare to say that she had mistaken him? Had she +not lain in his arms while he embraced her? How could he have found +the courage to say that he had had no thought of marriage when he had +declared to her that he loved her? She must have known that she had +hunted him as a fox is hunted;—and yet she believed that she was +being cruelly ill-used. For a time all that dependence on Lord +Mistletoe and her uncle deserted her. What effect could they have on +a man who would write such a letter as that? Had she known that the +words were the words of his brother-in-law, even that would have +given her some hope.</p> + +<p>But what should she do? Whatever steps she took she must take at +once. And she must tell her mother. Her mother's help would be +necessary to her now in whatever direction she might turn her mind. +She almost thought that she would abandon him without another word. +She had been strong in her reliance on family aid till the time for +invoking it had come; but now she believed that it would be useless. +Could it be that such a man as this would be driven into marriage by +the interference of Lord Mistletoe! She would much like to bring down +some punishment on his head;—but in doing so she would cut all other +ground from under her own feet. There were still open to her +Patagonia and the Paragon.</p> + +<p>She hated the Paragon, and she recoiled with shuddering from the idea +of Patagonia. But as for hating,—she hated Lord Rufford most. And +what was there that she loved? She tried to ask herself some question +even as to that. There certainly was no man for whom she cared a +straw; nor had there been for the last six or eight years. Even when +he was kissing her she was thinking of her built-up hair, of her +pearl powder, her paint, and of possible accidents and untoward +revelations. The loan of her lips had been for use only, and not for +any pleasure which she had even in pleasing him. In her very swoon +she had felt the need of being careful at all points. It was all +labour, and all care,—and, alas, alas, all disappointment!</p> + +<p>But there was a future through which she must live. How might she +best avoid the misfortune of poverty for the twenty, thirty, or forty +years which might be accorded to her? What did it matter whom or what +she hated? The housemaid probably did not like cleaning grates; nor +the butcher killing sheep; nor the sempstress stitching silks. She +must live. And if she could only get away from her mother that in +itself would be something. Most people were distasteful to her, but +no one so much as her mother. Here in England she knew that she was +despised among the people with whom she lived. And now she would be +more despised than ever. Her uncle and aunt, though she disliked +them, had been much to her. It was something,—that annual visit to +Mistletoe, though she never enjoyed it when she was there. But she +could well understand that after such a failure as this, after such a +game, played before their own eyes in their own house, her uncle and +her aunt would drop her altogether. She had played this game so +boldly that there was no retreat. Would it not therefore be better +that she should fly altogether?</p> + +<p>There was a time on that morning in which she had made up her mind +that she would write a most affectionate letter to Morton, telling +him that her people had now agreed to his propositions as to +settlement, and assuring him that from henceforward she would be all +his own. She did think that were she to do so she might still go with +him to Patagonia. But, if so, she must do it at once. The delay had +already been almost too long. In that case she would not say a word +in reply to Lord Rufford, and would allow all that to be as though it +had never been. Then again there arose to her mind the remembrance of +Rufford Hall, of all the glories, of the triumph over everybody. Then +again there was the idea of a "forlorn hope." She thought that she +could have brought herself to do it, if only death would have been +the alternative of success when she had resolved to make the rush.</p> + +<p>It was nearly one when she went to her mother and even then she was +undecided. But the joint agony of the solitude and the doubts had +been too much for her and she found herself constrained to seek a +counsellor. "He has thrown you over," said Lady Augustus as soon as +the door was closed.</p> + +<p>"Of course he has," said Arabella walking up the room, and again +playing her part even before her mother.</p> + +<p>"I knew it would be so."</p> + +<p>"You knew nothing of the kind, mamma, and your saying so is simply an +untruth. It was you who put me up to it."</p> + +<p>"Arabella, that is false."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't you, I suppose, who made me throw over Mr. Morton and +Bragton."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>"That is so like you, mamma. There isn't a single thing that you do +or say that you don't deny afterwards." These little compliments were +so usual among them that at the present moment they excited no great +danger. "There's his letter. I suppose you had better read it." And +she chucked the document to her mother.</p> + +<p>"It is very decided," said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"It is the falsest, the most impudent, and the most scandalous letter +that a man ever wrote to a woman. I could horsewhip him for it myself +if I could get near him."</p> + +<p>"Is it all over, Arabella?"</p> + +<p>"All over! What questions you do ask, mamma! No. It is not all over. +I'll stick to him like a leech. He proposed to me as plainly as any +man ever did to any woman. I don't care what people may say or think. +He hasn't heard the last of me; and so he'll find." And thus in her +passion she made up her mind that she would not yet abandon the hunt.</p> + +<p>"What will you do, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"What will I do? How am I to say what I will do? If I were standing +near him with a knife in my hand I would stick it into his heart. I +would! Mistaken him! Liar! They talk of girls lying; but what girl +would lie like that?"</p> + +<p>"But something must be done."</p> + +<p>"If papa were not such a fool as he is, he could manage it all for +me," said Arabella dutifully. "I must see my father and I must +dictate a letter for him. Where is papa?"</p> + +<p>"In London, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"You must come up to London with me to-morrow. We shall have to go to +his club and get him out. It must be done immediately; and then I +must see Lord Mistletoe, and I will write to the Duke."</p> + +<p>"Would it not be better to write to your papa?" said Lady Augustus, +not liking the idea of being dragged away so quickly from comfortable +quarters.</p> + +<p>"No; it wouldn't. If you won't go I shall, and you must give me some +money. I shall write to Lord Rufford too."</p> + +<p>And so it was at last decided, the wretched old woman being dragged +away up to London on some excuse which the Connop Greens were not +sorry to accept. But on that same afternoon Arabella wrote to Lord +Rufford.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p>Your letter has amazed me. I cannot understand it. It +seems to be almost impossible that it should really have +come from you. How can you say that I have mistaken you? +There has been no mistake. Surely that letter cannot have +been written by you.</p> + +<p>Of course I have been obliged to tell my father +everything.</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Arabella</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>On the following day at about four in the afternoon the mother and +daughter drove up to the door of Graham's Club in Bond Street, and +there they found Lord Augustus. With considerable difficulty he was +induced to come down from the whist room, and was forced into the +brougham. He was a handsome fat man, with a long grey beard, who +passed his whole life in eating, drinking, and playing whist, and was +troubled by no scruples and no principles. He would not cheat at +cards because it was dangerous and ungentlemanlike, and if discovered +would lead to his social annihilation; but as to paying money that he +owed to tradesmen, it never occurred to him as being a desirable +thing as long as he could get what he wanted without doing so. He had +expended his own patrimony and his wife's fortune, and now lived on +an allowance made to him by his brother. Whatever funds his wife +might have not a shilling of them ever came from him. When he began +to understand something of the nature of the business on hand, he +suggested that his brother, the Duke, could do what was desirable +infinitely better than he could. "He won't think anything of me," +said Lord Augustus.</p> + +<p>"We'll make him think something," said Arabella sternly. "You must do +it, papa. They'd turn you out of the club if they knew that you had +refused." Then he looked up in the brougham and snarled at her. +"Papa, you must copy the letter and sign it."</p> + +<p>"How am I to know the truth of it all?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is quite true," said Lady Augustus. There was very much more of +it, but at last he was carried away bodily, and in his daughter's +presence he did write and sign the following +<span class="nowrap">letter;—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My Lord</span>,</p> + +<p>I have heard from my daughter a story which has surprised +me very much. It appears that she has been staying with +you at Rufford Hall, and again at Mistletoe, and that +while at the latter place you proposed marriage to her. +She tells me with heart-breaking concern that you have now +repudiated your own proposition,—not only once made but +repeated. Her condition is most distressing. She is in all +respects your Lordship's equal. As her father I am driven +to ask you what excuse you have to make, or whether she +has interpreted you aright.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind10">I have the +honour to be,</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">Your very humble servant,</span></p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Augustus +Trefoil</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p><a name="c2-23" id="c2-23"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> +<h3>"IN THESE DAYS ONE CAN'T<br />MAKE A MAN MARRY."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>This was going on while Lord Rufford was shooting in the +neighbourhood of Dillsborough; and when the letter was being put into +its envelope at the lodgings in Orchard Street, his Lordship was just +sitting down to dinner with his guests at the Bush. At the same time +John Morton was lying ill at Bragton;—a fact of which Arabella was +not aware.</p> + +<p>The letter from Lord Augustus was put into the post on Saturday +evening; but when that line of action was decided upon by Arabella +she was aware that she must not trust solely to her father. Various +plans were fermenting in her brain; all, or any of which, if carried +out at all, must be carried out at the same time and at once. There +must be no delay, or that final chance of Patagonia would be gone. +The leader of a forlorn hope, though he be ever so resolved to die in +the breach, still makes some preparation for his escape. Among her +plans the first in order was a resolution to see Lord Mistletoe whom +she knew to be in town. Parliament was to meet in the course of the +next week and he was to move the address. There had been much said +about all this at Mistletoe from which she knew that he was in London +preparing himself among the gentlemen at the Treasury. Then she +herself would write to the Duke. She thought that she could concoct a +letter that would move even his heart. She would tell him that she +was a daughter of the house of Trefoil,—and "all that kind of +thing." She had it distinctly laid down in her mind. And then there +was another move which she would make before she altogether threw up +the game. She would force herself into Lord Rufford's presence and +throw herself into his arms,—at his feet if need be,—and force him +into compliance. Should she fail, then she, too, had an idea what a +raging woman could do. But her first step now must be with her cousin +Mistletoe. She would not write to the Duke till she had seen her +cousin.</p> + +<p>Lord Mistletoe when in London lived at the family house in +Piccadilly, and thither early on the Sunday morning she sent a note +to say that she especially wished to see her cousin and would call at +three o'clock on that day. The messenger brought back word that Lord +Mistletoe would be at home, and exactly at that hour the hired +brougham stopped at the door. Her mother had wished to accompany her +but she had declared that if she could not go alone she would not go +at all. In that she was right; for whatever favour the young heir to +the family honours might retain for his fair cousin, who was at any +rate a Trefoil, he had none for his uncle's wife. She was shown into +his own sitting-room on the ground floor, and then he immediately +joined her. "I wouldn't have you shown upstairs," he said, "because I +understand from your note that you want to see me in particular."</p> + +<p>"That is so kind of you."</p> + +<p>Lord Mistletoe was a young man about thirty, less in stature than his +father or uncle, but with the same handsome inexpressive face. Almost +all men take to some line in life. His father was known as a manager +of estates; his uncle as a whist-player; he was minded to follow the +steps of his grandfather and be a statesman. He was eaten up by no +high ambition but lived in the hope that by perseverance he might +live to become a useful Under Secretary, and perhaps, ultimately, a +Privy Seal. As he was well educated and laborious, and had no +objection to sitting for five hours together in the House of Commons +with nothing to do and sometimes with very little to hear, it was +thought by his friends that he would succeed. "And what is it I can +do?" he said with that affable smile to which he had already become +accustomed as a government politician.</p> + +<p>"I am in great trouble," said Arabella, leaving her hand for a moment +in his as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that. What sort of trouble?" He knew that his uncle +and his aunt's family were always short of money, and was already +considering to what extent he would go in granting her petition.</p> + +<p>"Do you know Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford! Yes;—I know him; but very slightly. My father knows +him very much better than I do."</p> + +<p>"I have just been at Mistletoe, and he was there. My story is so hard +to tell. I had better out with it at once. Lord Rufford has asked me +to be his wife."</p> + +<p>"The deuce he has! It's a very fine property and quite +unembarrassed."</p> + +<p>"And now he repudiates his engagement." Upon hearing this the young +lord's face became very long. He also had heard something of the past +life of his handsome cousin, though he had always felt kindly to her. +"It was not once only."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! I should have thought your father would be the proper +person."</p> + +<p>"Papa has written;—but you know what papa is."</p> + +<p>"Does the Duke know of it,—or my mother?"</p> + +<p>"It partly went on at Mistletoe. I would tell you the whole story if +I knew how." Then she did tell him her story, during the telling of +which he sat profoundly silent. She had gone to stay with Lady +Penwether at Lord Rufford's house, and then he had first told her of +his love. Then they had agreed to meet at Mistletoe, and she had +begged her aunt to receive her. She had not told her aunt at once, +and her aunt had been angry with her because they had walked +together. Then she had told everything to the Duchess and had begged +the Duchess to ask the Duke to speak to Lord Rufford. At Mistletoe +Lord Rufford had twice renewed his offer,—and she had then accepted +him. But the Duke had not spoken to him before he left the place. She +owned that she thought the Duchess had been a little hard to her. Of +course she did not mean to complain, but the Duchess had been angry +with her because she had hunted. And now, in answer to the note from +herself, had come a letter from Lord Rufford in which he repudiated +the engagement. "I only got it yesterday and I came at once to you. I +do not think you will see your cousin treated in that way without +raising your hand. You will remember that I have no brother?"</p> + +<p>"But what can I do?" asked Lord Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>She had taken great trouble with her face, so that she was able to +burst out into tears. She had on a veil which partly concealed her. +She did not believe in the effect of a pocket handkerchief, but sat +with her face half averted. "Tell him what you think about it," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Such engagements, Arabella," he said, "should always be +authenticated by a third party. It is for that reason that a girl +generally refers her lover to her father before she allows herself to +be considered as engaged."</p> + +<p>"Think what my position has been! I wanted to refer him to my uncle +and asked the Duchess."</p> + +<p>"My mother must have had some reason. I'm sure she must. There isn't +a woman in London knows how such things should be done better than my +mother. I can write to Lord Rufford and ask him for an explanation; +but I do not see what good it would do."</p> + +<p>"If you were in earnest about it he would be—afraid of you."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he would in the least. If I were to make a noise about +it, it would only do you harm. You wouldn't wish all the world to +know that he <span class="nowrap">had—"</span></p> + +<p>"Jilted me! I don't care what the world knows. Am I to put up with +such treatment as that and do nothing? Do you like to see your cousin +treated in that way?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like it at all. Lord Rufford is a good sort of man in his +way, and has a large property. I wish with all my heart that it had +come off all right; but in these days one can't make a man marry. +There used to be the alternative of going out and being shot at; but +that is over now."</p> + +<p>"And a man is to do just as he pleases?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid so. If a man is known to have behaved badly to a girl, +public opinion will condemn him."</p> + +<p>"Can anything be worse than this treatment of me?" Lord Mistletoe +could not tell her that he had alluded to absolute knowledge and that +at present he had no more than her version of the story;—or that the +world would require more than that before the general condemnation of +which he had spoken would come. So he sat in silence and shook his +head. "And you think that I should put up with it quietly!"</p> + +<p>"I think that your father should see the man." Arabella shook her +head contemptuously. "If you wish it I will write to my mother."</p> + +<p>"I would rather trust to my uncle."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what he could do;—but I will write to him if you +please."</p> + +<p>"And you won't see Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>He sat silent for a minute or two during which she pressed him over +and over again to have an interview with her recreant lover, bringing +up all the arguments that she knew, reminding him of their former +affection for each other, telling him that she had no brother of her +own, and that her own father was worse than useless in such a matter. +A word or two she said of the nature of the prize to be gained, and +many words as to her absolute right to regard that prize as her own. +But at last he refused. "I am not the person to do it," he said. +"Even if I were your brother I should not be so,—unless with the +view of punishing him for his conduct;—in which place the punishment +to you would be worse than any I could inflict on him. It cannot be +good that any young lady should have her name in the mouths of all +the lovers of gossip in the country."</p> + +<p>She was going to burst out at him in her anger, but before the words +were out of her mouth she remembered herself. She could not afford to +make enemies and certainly not an enemy of him. "Perhaps, then," she +said, "you had better tell your mother all that I have told you. I +will write to the Duke myself."</p> + +<p>And so she left him, and as she returned to Orchard Street in the +brougham, she applied to him every term of reproach she could bring +to mind. He was selfish, and a coward, and utterly devoid of all +feeling of family honour. He was a prig, and unmanly, and false. A +real cousin would have burst out into a passion and have declared +himself ready to seize Lord Rufford by the throat and shake him into +instant matrimony. But this man, through whose veins water was +running instead of blood, had no feeling, no heart, no capability for +anger! Oh, what a vile world it was! A little help,—so very +little,—would have made everything straight for her! If her aunt had +only behaved at Mistletoe as aunts should behave, there would have +been no difficulty. In her misery she thought that the world was more +cruel to her than to any other person in it.</p> + +<p>On her arrival at home, she was astounded by a letter that she found +there,—a letter of such a nature that it altogether drove out of her +head the purpose which she had of writing to the Duke on that +evening. The letter was from John Morton and now reached her through +the lawyer to whom it had been sent by private hand for immediate +delivery. It ran as follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest Arabella</span>,</p> + +<p>I am very ill,—so ill that Dr. Fanning who has come down +from London, has, I think, but a poor opinion of my case. +He does not say that it is hopeless,—and that is all. I +think it right to tell you this, as my affection for you +is what it always has been. If you wish to see me, you and +your mother had better come to Bragton at once. You can +telegraph. I am too weak to write more.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Yours most affectionately,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">John Morton</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">There is nothing infectious.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>"John Morton is dying," she almost screamed out to her mother.</p> + +<p>"Dying!"</p> + +<p>"So he says. Oh, what an unfortunate wretch I am! Everything that +touches me comes to grief." Then she burst out into a flood of true +unfeigned tears.</p> + +<p>"It won't matter so much," said Lady Augustus, "if you mean to write +to the Duke, and go on with this other—affair."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, how can you talk in that way?"</p> + +<p>"Well; my dear; you know—"</p> + +<p>"I am heartless. I know that. But you are ten times worse. Think how +I have treated him!"</p> + +<p>"I don't want him to die, my dear; but what can I say? I can't do him +any good. It is all in God's hands, and if he must die—why, it won't +make so much difference to you. I have looked upon all that as over +for a long time."</p> + +<p>"It is not over. After all he has liked me better than any of them. +He wants me to go to Bragton."</p> + +<p>"That of course is out of the question."</p> + +<p>"It is not out of the question at all. I shall go."</p> + +<p>"Arabella!"</p> + +<p>"And you must go with me, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I will do no such thing," said Lady Augustus, to whom the idea of +Bragton was terrible.</p> + +<p>"Indeed you must. He has asked me to go, and I shall do it. You can +hardly let me go alone."</p> + +<p>"And what will you say to Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care for Lord Rufford. Is he to prevent my going where I +please?"</p> + +<p>"And your father,—and the Duke,—and the Duchess! How can you go +there after all that you have been doing since you left?"</p> + +<p>"What do I care for the Duke and the Duchess. It has come to that, +that I care for no one. They are all throwing me over. That little +wretch Mistletoe will do nothing. This man really loved me. He has +never treated me badly. Whether he live or whether he die, he has +been true to me." Then she sat and thought of it all. What would Lord +Rufford care for her father's letter? If her cousin Mistletoe would +not stir in her behalf what chance had she with her uncle? And, +though she had thoroughly despised her cousin, she had understood and +had unconsciously believed much that he had said to her. "In these +days one can't make a man marry!" What horrid days they were! But +John Morton would marry her to-morrow if he were well,—in spite of +all her ill usage! Of course he would die and so she would again be +overwhelmed;—but yet she would go and see him. As she determined to +do so there was something even in her hard callous heart softer than +the love of money and more human than the dream of an advantageous +settlement in life.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-24" id="c2-24"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> +<h3>THE SENATOR'S SECOND LETTER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>In the mean time our friend the Senator, up in London, was much +distracted in his mind, finding no one to sympathise with him in his +efforts, conscious of his own rectitude of purpose, always brave +against others, and yet with a sad doubt in his own mind whether it +could be possible that he should always be right and everybody around +him wrong.</p> + +<p>Coming away from Mr. Mainwaring's dinner he had almost quarrelled +with John Morton, or rather John Morton had altogether quarrelled +with him. On their way back from Dillsborough to Bragton the minister +elect to Patagonia had told him, in so many words, that he had +misbehaved himself at the clergyman's house. "Did I say anything that +was untrue?" asked the Senator—"Was I inaccurate in my statements? +If so no man alive will be more ready to recall what he has said and +to ask for pardon." Mr. Morton endeavoured to explain to him that it +was not his statements which were at fault so much as the opinions +based on them and the language in which those opinions were given. +But the Senator could not be made to understand that a man had not a +right to his opinions, and a right also to the use of forcible +language as long as he abstained from personalities. "It was +extremely personal,—all that you said about the purchase of +livings," said Morton. "How was I to know that?" rejoined the +Senator. "When in private society I inveigh against pickpockets I +cannot imagine, sir, that there should be a pickpocket in the +company." As the Senator said this he was grieving in his heart at +the trouble he had occasioned, and was almost repenting the duties he +had imposed on himself; but, yet, his voice was bellicose and +antagonistic. The conversation was carried on till Morton found +himself constrained to say that though he entertained great personal +respect for his guest he could not go with him again into society. He +was ill at the time,—though neither he himself knew it nor the +Senator. On the next morning Mr. Gotobed returned to London without +seeing his host, and before the day was over Mr. Nupper was at +Morton's bedside. He was already suffering from gastric fever.</p> + +<p>The Senator was in truth unhappy as he returned to town. The intimacy +between him and the late Secretary of Legation at his capital had +arisen from a mutual understanding between them that each was to be +allowed to see the faults and to admire the virtues of their two +countries, and that conversation between them was to be based on the +mutual system. But nobody can, in truth, endure to be told of +shortcomings,—either on his own part or on that of his country. He +himself can abuse himself, or his country; but he cannot endure it +from alien lips. Mr. Gotobed had hardly said a word about England +which Morton himself might not have said,—but such words coming from +an American had been too much even for the guarded temper of an +unprejudiced and phlegmatic Englishman. The Senator as he returned +alone to London understood something of this,—and when a few days +later he heard that the friend who had quarrelled with him was ill, +he was discontented with himself and sore at heart.</p> + +<p>But he had his task to perform, and he meant to perform it to the +best of his ability. In his own country he had heard vehement abuse +of the old land from the lips of politicians, and had found at the +same time almost on all sides great social admiration for the people +so abused. He had observed that every Englishman of distinction was +received in the States as a demigod, and that some who were not very +great in their own land had been converted into heroes in his. +English books were read there; English laws were obeyed there; +English habits were cultivated, often at the expense of American +comfort. And yet it was the fashion among orators to speak of the +English as a worn-out, stupid and enslaved people. He was a +thoughtful man and all this had perplexed him;—so that he had +obtained leave from his State and from Congress to be absent during a +part of a short Session, and had come over determined to learn as +much as he could. Everything he heard and almost everything he saw +offended him at some point. And, yet in the midst of it all, he was +conscious that he was surrounded by people who claimed and made good +their claims to superiority. What was a lord, let him be ever so rich +and have ever so many titles? And yet, even with such a popinjay as +Lord Rufford, he himself felt the lordship. When that old farmer at +the hunt breakfast had removed himself and his belongings to the +other side of the table the Senator, though aware of the justice of +his cause, had been keenly alive to the rebuke. He had expressed +himself very boldly at the rector's house at Dillsborough, and had +been certain that not a word of real argument had been possible in +answer to him. But yet he left the house with a feeling almost of +shame, which had grown into real penitence before he reached Bragton. +He knew that he had already been condemned by Englishmen as +ill-mannered, ill-conditioned and absurd. He was as much alive as any +man to the inward distress of heart which such a conviction brings +with it to all sensitive minds. And yet he had his purpose and would +follow it out. He was already hard at work on the lecture which he +meant to deliver somewhere in London before he went back to his home +duties, and had made it known to the world at large that he meant to +say some sharp things of the country he was visiting.</p> + +<p>Soon after his return to town he was present at the opening of +Parliament, Mr. Mounser Green of the Foreign Office having seen that +he was properly accommodated with a seat. Then he went down to the +election of a member of Parliament in the little borough of +Quinborough. It was unfortunate for Great Britain, which was on its +trial, and unpleasant also for the poor Senator who had appointed +himself judge, that such a seat should have fallen vacant at that +moment. Quinborough was a little town of 3,000 inhabitants clustering +round the gates of a great Whig Marquis, which had been spared,—who +can say why?—at the first Reform Bill, and having but one member had +come out scatheless from the second. Quinborough still returned its +one member with something less than 500 constituents, and in spite of +household suffrage and the ballot had always returned the member +favoured by the Marquis. This nobleman, driven no doubt by his +conscience to make some return to the country for the favour shown to +his family, had always sent to Parliament some useful and +distinguished man who without such patronage might have been unable +to serve his country. On the present occasion a friend of the +people,—so called,—an unlettered demagogue such as is in England in +truth distasteful to all classes, had taken himself down to +Quinborough as a candidate in opposition to the nobleman's nominee. +He had been backed by all the sympathies of the American Senator who +knew nothing of him or his unfitness, and nothing whatever of the +patriotism of the Marquis. But he did know what was the population +and what the constituency of Liverpool, and also what were those of +Quinborough. He supposed that he knew what was the theory of +representation in England, and he understood correctly that hitherto +the member for Quinborough had been the nominee of that great lord. +These things were horrid to him. There was to his thinking a +fiction,—more than fiction, a falseness,—about all this which not +only would but ought to bring the country prostrate to the dust. When +the working-man's candidate, whose political programme consisted of a +general disbelief in all religions, received—by ballot!—only nine +votes from those 500 voters, the Senator declared to himself that the +country must be rotten to the core. It was not only that Britons were +slaves,—but that they "hugged their chains." To the gentleman who +assured him that the Right Honble. +<span class="nowrap">——</span> +<span class="nowrap">——</span> +would make a much better +member of Parliament than Tom Bobster the plasterer from Shoreditch +he in vain tried to prove that the respective merits of the two men +had nothing to do with the question. It had been the duty of those +500 voters to show to the world that in the exercise of a privilege +entrusted to them for the public service they had not been under the +dictation of their rich neighbour. Instead of doing so they had, +almost unanimously, grovelled in the dust at their rich neighbour's +feet. "There are but one or two such places left in all England," +said the gentleman. "But those one or two," answered the Senator, +"were wilfully left there by the Parliament which represented the +whole nation."</p> + +<p>Then, quite early in the Session, immediately after the voting of the +address, a motion had been made by the Government of the day for +introducing household suffrage into the counties. No one knew the +labour to which the Senator subjected himself in order that he might +master all these peculiarities,—that he might learn how men became +members of Parliament, and how they ceased to be so, in what degree +the House of Commons was made up of different elements, how it came +to pass, that though there was a House of Lords, so many lords sat in +the lower chamber. All those matters which to ordinary educated +Englishmen are almost as common as the breath of their nostrils, had +been to him matter of long and serious study. And as the intent +student, who has zealously buried himself for a week among +commentaries and notes, feels himself qualified to question Porson +and to Be-Bentley Bentley, so did our Senator believe, while still he +was groping among the rudiments, that he had all our political +intricacies at his fingers' ends. When he heard the arguments used +for a difference of suffrage in the towns and counties, and found +that even they who were proposing the change were not ready +absolutely to assimilate the two and still held that rural +ascendancy,—feudalism as he called it,—should maintain itself by +barring a fraction of the House of Commons from the votes of the +majority, he pronounced the whole thing to be a sham. The intention +was, he said, to delude the people. "It is all coming," said the +gentleman who was accustomed to argue with him in those days. He +spoke in a sad vein, which was in itself distressing to the Senator. +"Why should you be in such a hurry?" The Senator suggested that if +the country delayed much longer this imperative task of putting its +house in order, the roof would have fallen in before the repairs were +done. Then he found that this gentleman too, avoided his company, and +declined to sit with him any more in the Gallery of the House of +Commons.</p> + +<p>Added to all this was a private rankling sore in regard to Goarly and +Bearside. He had now learned nearly all the truth about Goarly, and +had learned also that Bearside had known the whole when he had last +visited that eminent lawyer's office. Goarly had deserted his +supporters and had turned evidence against Scrobby, his partner in +iniquity. That Goarly was a rascal the Senator had acknowledged. So +far the general opinion down in Rufford had been correct. But he +could get nobody to see,—or at any rate could get nobody to +acknowledge,—that the rascality of Goarly had had nothing to do with +the question as he had taken it up. The man's right to his own +land,—his right to be protected from pheasants and foxes, from +horses and hounds,—was not lessened by the fact that he was a poor +ignorant squalid dishonest wretch. Mr. Gotobed had now received a +bill from Bearside for £42 7<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i> for costs in the +case, leaving after the deduction of £15 already paid a +sum of £27 7<i>s.</i> 9<i>d.</i> +stated to be still due. And this was accompanied by an intimation +that as he, Mr. Gotobed, was a foreigner soon about to leave the +country, Mr. Bearside must request that his claim might be settled +quite at once. No one could be less likely than our Senator to leave +a foreign country without paying his bills. He had quarrelled with +Morton,—who also at this time was too ill to have given him much +assistance. Though he had become acquainted with half Dillsborough, +there was nobody there to whom he could apply. Thus he was driven to +employ a London attorney, and the London attorney told him that he +had better pay Bearside;—the Senator remembering at the time that he +would also have to pay the London attorney for his advice. He gave +this second lawyer authority to conclude the matter, and at last +Bearside accepted £20. When the London attorney refused to take +anything for his trouble, the Senator felt such conduct almost as an +additional grievance. In his existing frame of mind he would sooner +have expended a few more dollars than be driven to think well of +anything connected with English law.</p> + +<p>It was immediately after he had handed over the money in liquidation +of Bearside's claim that he sat down to write a further letter to his +friend and correspondent Josiah Scroome. His letter was not written +in the best of tempers; but still, through it all, there was a desire +to be just, and an anxiety to abstain from the use of hard phrases. +The letter was as +<span class="nowrap">follows;—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Fenton's Hotel, St. James' Street, London,<br /> +Feb. 12, 187—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Sir</span>,</p> + +<p>Since I last wrote I have had much to trouble me and +little perhaps to compensate me for my trouble. I told +you, I think, in one of my former letters that wherever I +went I found myself able to say what I pleased as to the +peculiarities of this very peculiar people. I am not now +going to contradict what I said then. Wherever I go I do +speak out, and my eyes are still in my head and my head is +on my shoulders. But I have to acknowledge to myself that +I give offence. Mr. Morton, whom you knew at the British +Embassy in Washington,—and who I fear is now very +ill,—parted from me, when last I saw him, in anger +because of certain opinions I had expressed in a +clergyman's house, not as being ill-founded but as being +antagonistic to the clergyman himself. This I feel to be +unreasonable. And in the neighbourhood of Mr. Morton's +house, I have encountered the ill will of a great +many,—not for having spoken untruth, for that I have +never heard alleged,—but because I have not been reticent +in describing the things which I have seen.</p> + +<p>I told you, I think, that I had returned to Mr. Morton's +neighbourhood with the view of defending an oppressed man +against the power of the lord who was oppressing him. +Unfortunately for me the lord, though a scapegrace, spends +his money freely and is a hospitable kindly-hearted honest +fellow; whereas the injured victim has turned out to be a +wretched scoundrel. Scoundrel though he is, he has still +been ill used; and the lord, though good-natured, has been +a tyrant. But the poor wretch has thrown me over and sold +himself to the other side and I have been held up to +ignominy by all the provincial newspapers. I have also had +to pay through the nose $175 for my quixotism—a sum which +I cannot very well afford. This money I have lost solely +with the view of defending the weak, but nobody with whom +I have discussed the matter seems to recognise the purity +of my object. I am only reminded that I have put myself +into the same boat with a rascal.</p> + +<p>I feel from day to day how thoroughly I could have enjoyed +a sojourn in this country if I had come here without any +line of duty laid down for myself. Could I have swum with +the stream and have said yes or no as yes or no were +expected, I might have revelled in generous hospitality. +Nothing can be pleasanter than the houses here if you will +only be as idle as the owners of them. But when once you +show them that you have an object, they become afraid of +you. And industry,—in such houses as I now speak of,—is +a crime. You are there to glide through the day +luxuriously in the house,—or to rush through it +impetuously on horseback or with a gun if you be a +sportsman. Sometimes, when I have asked questions about +the most material institutions of the country, I have felt +that I was looked upon with absolute loathing. This is +disagreeable.</p> + +<p>And yet I find it more easy in this country to sympathise +with the rich than with the poor. I do not here describe +my own actual sympathies, but only the easiness with which +they might be evoked. The rich are at any rate pleasant. +The poor are very much the reverse. There is no backbone +of mutiny in them against the oppression to which they are +subjected; but only the whining of a dog that knows itself +to be a slave and pleads with his soft paw for tenderness +from his master;—or the futile growlings of the caged +tiger who paces up and down before his bars and has long +ago forgotten to attempt to break them. They are a +long-suffering race, who only now and then feel themselves +stirred up to contest a point against their masters on the +basis of starvation. "We won't work but on such and such +terms, and, if we cannot get them, we will lie down and +die." That I take it is the real argument of a strike. But +they never do lie down and die. If one in every parish, +one in every county, would do so, then the agricultural +labourers of the country might live almost as well as the +farmers' pigs.</p> + +<p>I was present the other day at the opening of Parliament. +It was a very grand ceremony,—though the Queen did not +find herself well enough to do her duty in person. But the +grandeur was everything. A royal programme was read from +the foot of the throne, of which even I knew all the +details beforehand, having read them in the newspapers. +Two opening speeches were then made by two young +lords,—not after all so very young,—which sounded like +lessons recited by schoolboys. There was no touch of +eloquence,—no approach to it. It was clear that either of +them would have been afraid to attempt the idiosyncrasy of +passionate expression. But they were exquisitely dressed +and had learned their lessons to a marvel. The flutter of +the ladies' dresses, and the presence of the peers, and +the historic ornamentation of the house were all very +pleasant;—but they reminded me of a last year's nut, of +which the outside appearance has been mellowed and +improved by time,—but the fruit inside has withered away +and become tasteless.</p> + +<p>Since that I have been much interested with an attempt,—a +further morsel of cobbling,—which is being done to +improve the representation of the people. Though it be but +cobbling, if it be in the right direction one is glad of +it. I do not know how far you may have studied the +theories and system of the British House of Commons, but, +for myself, I must own that it was not till the other day +that I was aware that, though it acts together as one +whole, it is formed of two distinct parts. The one part is +sent thither from the towns by household suffrage; and, +this, which may be said to be the healthier of the two as +coming more directly from the people, is nevertheless +disfigured by a multitude of anomalies. Population hardly +bears upon the question. A town with 15,000 inhabitants +has two members,—whereas another with 400,000 has only +three, and another with 50,000 has one. But there is worse +disorder than this. In the happy little village of +Portarlington 200 constituents choose a member among them, +or have one chosen for them by their careful +lord;—whereas in the great city of London something like +25,000 registered electors only send four to Parliament. +With this the country is presumed to be satisfied. But in +the counties, which by a different system send up the +other part of the House, there exists still a heavy +property qualification for voting. There is, apparent to +all, a necessity for change here;—but the change proposed +is simply a reduction of the qualification, so that the +rural labourer,—whose class is probably the largest, as +it is the poorest, in the country,—is still +disfranchised, and will remain so, unless it be his chance +to live within the arbitrary line of some so-called +borough. For these boroughs, you must know, are sometimes +strictly confined to the aggregations of houses which +constitute the town, but sometimes stretch out their arms +so as to include rural districts. The divisions I am +assured were made to suit the aspirations of political +magnates when the first Reform Bill was passed! What is to +be expected of a country in which such absurdities are +loved and sheltered?</p> + +<p>I am still determined to express my views on these matters +before I leave England, and am with great labour preparing +a lecture on the subject. I am assured that I shall not be +debarred from my utterances because that which I say is +unpopular. I am told that as long as I do not touch Her +Majesty or Her Majesty's family, or the Christian +religion,—which is only the second Holy of Holies,—I may +say anything. Good taste would save me from the former +offence, and my own convictions from the latter. But my +friend who so informs me doubts whether many will come to +hear me. He tells me that the serious American is not +popular here, whereas the joker is much run after. Of that +I must take my chance. In all this I am endeavouring to do +a duty,—feeling every day more strongly my own +inadequacy. Were I to follow my own wishes I should return +by the next steamer to my duties at home.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind6">Believe me to be,</span><br /> +<span class="ind8">Dear Sir,</span><br /> +<span class="ind10">With much sincerity,</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">Yours truly,</span></p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Elias Gotobed</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">The Honble. Josiah Scroome,<br /> +125 Q Street,<br /> +Minnesota Avenue,<br /> +Washington.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p><a name="c2-25" id="c2-25"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> +<h3>PROVIDENCE INTERFERES.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The battle was carried on very fiercely in Mr. Masters' house in +Dillsborough, to the misery of all within it; but the conviction +gained ground with every one there that Mary was to be sent to +Cheltenham for some indefinite time. Dolly and Kate seemed to think +that she was to go, never to return. Six months, which had been +vaguely mentioned as the proposed period of her sojourn, was to them +almost as indefinite as eternity. The two girls had been intensely +anxious for the marriage, wishing to have Larry for a brother, +looking forward with delight to their share in the unrestricted +plenteousness of Chowton Farm, longing to be allowed to consider +themselves at home among the ricks and barns and wide fields; but at +this moment things had become so tragic that they were cowed and +unhappy,—not that Mary should still refuse Larry Twentyman, but that +she should be going away for so long a time. They could quarrel with +their elder sister while the assurance was still with them that she +would be there to forgive them;—but now that she was going away and +that it had come to be believed by both of them that poor Lawrence +had no chance, they were sad and downhearted. In all that misery the +poor attorney had the worst of it. Mary was free from her +stepmother's zeal and her stepmother's persecution at any rate at +night;—but the poor father was hardly allowed to sleep. For Mrs. +Masters never gave up her game as altogether lost. Though she might +be driven alternately into towering passion and prostrate hysterics, +she would still come again to the battle. A word of encouragement +would, she said, bring Larry Twentyman back to his courtship, and +that word might be spoken, if Mary's visit to Cheltenham were +forbidden. What did the letter signify, or all the girl's +protestations? Did not everybody know how self-willed young women +were; but how they could be brought round by proper usage? Let Mary +once be made to understand that she would not be allowed to be a fine +lady, and then she would marry Mr. Twentyman quick enough. But this +"Ushanting," this journeying to Cheltenham in order that nothing +might be done, was the very way to promote the disease! This Mrs. +Masters said in season and out of season, night and day, till the +poor husband longed for his daughter's departure, in order that that +point might at any rate be settled. In all these disputes he never +quite yielded. Though his heart sank within him he was still firm. He +would turn his back to his wife and let her run on with her arguments +without a word of answer,—till at last he would bounce out of bed +and swear that if she did not leave him alone he would go and lock +himself into the office and sleep with his head on the office desk.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters was almost driven to despair;—but at last there came to +her a gleam of hope, most unexpectedly. It had been settled that Mary +should make her journey on Friday the 12th February and that Reginald +Morton was again to accompany her. This in itself was to Mrs. Masters +an aggravation of the evil which was being done. She was not in the +least afraid of Reginald Morton; but this attendance on Mary was in +the eyes of her stepmother a cockering of her up, a making a fine +lady of her, which was in itself of all things the most pernicious. +If Mary must go to Cheltenham, why could she not go by herself, +second class, like any other young woman? "Nobody would eat +her,"—Mrs. Masters declared. But Reginald was firm in his purpose of +accompanying her. He had no objection whatever to the second class, +if Mr. Masters preferred it. But as he meant to make the journey on +the same day of course they would go together. Mr. Masters said that +he was very much obliged. Mrs. Masters protested that it was all +trash from beginning to the end.</p> + +<p>Then there came a sudden disruption to all these plans, and a sudden +renewal of her hopes to Mrs. Masters which for one half day nearly +restored her to good humour. Lady Ushant wrote to postpone the visit +because she herself had been summoned to Bragton. Her letter to Mary, +though affectionate, was very short. Her grand-nephew John, the head +of the family, had expressed a desire to see her, and with that wish +she was bound to comply. Of course, she said, she would see Mary at +Bragton; or if that were not possible, she herself would come into +Dillsborough. She did not know what might be the length of her visit, +but when it was over she hoped that Mary would return with her to +Cheltenham. The old lady's letter to Reginald was much longer; +because in that she had to speak of the state of John Morton's +health,—and of her surprise that she should be summoned to his +bedside. Of course she would go,—though she could not look forward +with satisfaction to a meeting with the Honble. Mrs. Morton. Then she +could not refrain from alluding to the fact that if "anything were to +happen" to John Morton, Reginald himself would be the Squire of +Bragton. Reginald when he received this at once went over to the +attorney's house, but he did not succeed in seeing Mary. He learned, +however, that they were all aware that the journey had been +postponed.</p> + +<p>To Mrs. Masters it seemed that all this had been a dispensation of +Providence. Lady Ushant's letter had been received on the Thursday +and Mrs. Masters at once found it expedient to communicate with Larry +Twentyman. She was not excellent herself at the writing of letters, +and therefore she got Dolly to be the scribe. Before the Thursday +evening the following note was sent to Chowton Farm;<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Larry</span>,</p> + +<p>Pray come and go to the club with father on Saturday. We +haven't seen you for so long! Mother has got something to +tell you.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Your affectionate friend,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Dolly</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>When this was received the poor man was smoking his moody pipe in +silence as he roamed about his own farmyard in the darkness of the +night. He had not as yet known any comfort and was still firm in his +purpose of selling the farm. He had been out hunting once or twice +but fancied that people looked at him with peculiar eyes. He could +not ride, though he made one or two forlorn attempts to break his +neck. He did not care in the least whether they found or not; and +when Captain Glomax was held to have disgraced himself thoroughly by +wasting an hour in digging out and then killing a vixen, he had not a +word to say about it. But, as he read Dolly's note, there came back +something of life into his eyes. He had forsworn the club, but would +certainly go when thus invited. He wrote a scrawl to Dolly,—"I'll +come," and, having sent it off by the messenger, tried to trust that +there might yet be ground for hope. Mrs. Masters would not have +allowed Dolly to send such a message without good reason.</p> + +<p>On the Friday Mrs. Masters could not abstain from proposing that +Mary's visit to Cheltenham should be regarded as altogether out of +the question. She had no new argument to offer,—except this last +interposition of Providence in her favour. Mr. Masters said that he +did not see why Mary should not return with Lady Ushant. Various +things, however, might happen. John Morton might die, and then who +could tell whether Lady Ushant would ever return to Cheltenham? In +this way the short-lived peace soon came to an end, especially as +Mrs. Masters endeavoured to utilize for general family purposes +certain articles which had been purchased with a view to Mary's +prolonged residence away from home. This was resented by the +attorney, and the peace was short-lived.</p> + +<p>On the Saturday Larry came,—to the astonishment of Mr. Masters, who +was still in his office at half-past seven. Mrs. Masters at once got +hold of him and conveyed him away into the sacred drawing-room. "Mary +is not going," she said.</p> + +<p>"Not going to Cheltenham!"</p> + +<p>"It has all been put off. She shan't go at all if I can help it."</p> + +<p>"But why has it been put off, Mrs. Masters?"</p> + +<p>"Lady Ushant is coming to Bragton. I suppose that poor man is dying."</p> + +<p>"He is very ill certainly."</p> + +<p>"And if anything happens there who can say what may happen anywhere +else? Lady Ushant will have something else except Mary to think of, +if her own nephew comes into all the property."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know she was such friends with the Squire as that."</p> + +<p>"Well;—there it is. Lady Ushant is coming to Bragton and Mary is not +going to Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>This she said as though the news must be of vital importance to Larry +Twentyman. He stood for awhile scratching his head as he thought of +it. At last it appeared to him that Mary's continual residence in +Dillsborough would of itself hardly assist him. "I don't see, Mrs. +Masters, that that will make her a bit kinder to me.'</p> + +<p>"Larry, don't you be a coward,—nor yet soft."</p> + +<p>"As for coward, Mrs. Masters, I don't know—"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you really do love the girl."</p> + +<p>"I do;—I think I've shown that."</p> + +<p>"And you haven't changed your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit."</p> + +<p>"That's why I speak open to you. Don't you be afraid of her. What's +the letter which a girl like that writes? When she gets tantrums into +her head of course she'll write a letter."</p> + +<p>"But there's somebody else, Mrs. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Who says so? I say there ain't nobody;—nobody. If anybody tells you +that it's only just to put you off. It's just poetry and books and +rubbish. She wants to be a fine lady."</p> + +<p>"I'll make her a lady."</p> + +<p>"You make her Mrs. Twentyman, and don't you be made by any one to +give it up. Go to the club with Mr. Masters now, and come here just +the same as usual. Come to-morrow and have a gossip with the girls +together and show that you can keep your pluck up. That's the way to +win her." Larry did go to the club and did think very much of it as +he walked home. He had promised to come on the Sunday afternoon, but +he could not bring himself to believe in that theory of books and +poetry put forward by Mrs. Masters. Books and poetry would not teach +a girl like Mary to reject her suitor if she really loved him.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-26" id="c2-26"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> +<h3>LADY USHANT AT BRAGTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the Sunday Larry came into Dillsborough and had "his gossip with +the girls" according to order;—but it was not very successful. Mrs. +Masters who opened the door for him instructed him in a special +whisper "to talk away just as though he did not care a fig for Mary." +He made the attempt manfully,—but with slight effect. His love was +too genuine, too absorbing, to leave with him the power which Mrs. +Masters assumed him to have when she gave him such advice. A man +cannot walk when he has broken his ankle-bone, let him be ever so +brave in the attempt. Larry's heart was so weighed that he could not +hide the weight. Dolly and Kate had also received hints and struggled +hard to be merry. In the afternoon a walk was suggested, and Mary +complied; but when an attempt was made by the younger girls to leave +the lover and Mary together, she resented it by clinging closely to +Dolly;—and then all Larry's courage deserted him. Very little good +was done on the occasion by Mrs. Masters' manœuvres.</p> + +<p>On the Monday morning, in compliance with a request made by Lady +Ushant, Mary walked over to Bragton to see her old friend. Mrs. +Masters had declared the request to be very unreasonable. "Who is to +walk five miles and back to see an old woman like that?" To this Mary +had replied that the distance across the fields to Bragton was only +four miles and that she had often walked it with her sisters for the +very pleasure of the walk. "Not in weather like this," said Mrs. +Masters. But the day was well enough. Roads in February are often a +little wet, but there was no rain falling. "I say it's unreasonable," +said Mrs. Masters. "If she can't send a carriage she oughtn't to +expect it." This coming from Mrs. Masters, whose great doctrine it +was that young women ought not to be afraid of work, was so clearly +the effect of sheer opposition that Mary disdained to answer it. Then +she was accused of treating her stepmother with contempt.</p> + +<p>She did walk to Bragton, taking the path by the fields and over the +bridge, and loitering for a few minutes as she leant upon the rail. +It was there and there only that she had seen together the two men +who between them seemed to cloud all her life,—the man whom she +loved and the man who loved her. She knew now,—she thought that she +knew quite well,—that her feelings for Reginald Morton were of such +a nature that she could not possibly become the wife of any one else. +But had she not seen him for those few minutes on this spot, had he +not fired her imagination by telling her of his desire to go back +with her over the sites which they had seen together when she was a +child, she would not, she thought, have been driven to make to +herself so grievous a confession. In that case it might have been +that she would have brought herself to give her hand to the suitor of +whom all her friends approved.</p> + +<p>And then with infinite tenderness she thought of all Larry's +virtues,—and especially of that great virtue in a woman's eyes, the +constancy of his devotion to herself. She did love him,—but with a +varied love,—a love which was most earnest in wishing his happiness, +which would have been desirous of the closest friendship if only +nothing more were required. She swore to herself a thousand times +that she did not look down upon him because he was only a farmer, +that she did not think herself in any way superior to him. But it was +impossible that she should consent to be his wife. And then she +thought of the other man,—with feelings much less kind. Why had he +thrust himself upon her life and disturbed her? Why had he taught her +to think herself unfit to mate with this lover who was her equal? Why +had he assured her that were she to do so her old friends would be +revolted? Why had he exacted from her a promise,—a promise which was +sacred to her,—that she would not so give herself away? Yes;—the +promise was certainly sacred; but he had been cold and cruel in +forcing it from her lips. What business was it of his? Why should he +have meddled with her? In the shallow streamlet of her lowly life the +waters might have glided on, slow but smoothly, had he not taught +them to be ambitious of a rapider, grander course. Now they were +disturbed by mud, and there could be no pleasure in them.</p> + +<p>She went on over the bridge, and round by the shrubbery to the hall +door which was opened to her by Mrs. Hopkins. Yes, Lady Ushant was +there;—but the young Squire was very ill and his aunt was then with +him. Mr. Reginald was in the library. Would Miss Masters be shown in +there, or would she go up to Lady Ushant's own room? Of course she +replied that she would go up-stairs and there wait for Lady Ushant.</p> + +<p>When she was found by her friend she was told at length the story of +all the circumstances which had brought Lady Ushant to Bragton. When +John Morton had first been taken ill,—before any fixed idea of +danger had occurred to himself or to others,—his grandmother had +come to him. Then, as he gradually became weaker he made various +propositions which were all of them terribly distasteful to the old +woman. In the first place he had insisted on sending for Miss +Trefoil. Up to this period Mary Masters had hardly heard the name of +Miss Trefoil, and almost shuddered as she was at once immersed in all +these family secrets. "She is to be here to-morrow," said Lady +Ushant.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear,—how sad!"</p> + +<p>"He insists upon it, and she is coming. She was here before, and it +now turns out that all the world knew that they were engaged. That +was no secret, for everybody had heard it."</p> + +<p>"And where is Mrs. Morton now?" Then Lady Ushant went on with her +story. The sick man had insisted on making his will and had declared +his purpose of leaving the property to his cousin Reginald. As Lady +Ushant said, there was no one else to whom he could leave it with any +propriety;—but this had become matter for bitter contention between +the old woman and her grandson.</p> + +<p>"Who did she think should have it?" asked Mary.</p> + +<p>"Ah;—that I don't know. That he has never told me. But she has had +the wickedness to say,—oh,—such things of Reginald. I knew all that +before;—but that she should repeat them now is terrible. I suppose +she wanted it for some of her own people. But it was so horrible you +know,—when he was so ill! Then he said that he should send for me, +so that what is left of the family might be together. After that she +went away in anger. Mrs. Hopkins says that she did not even see him +the morning she left Bragton."</p> + +<p>"She was always high-tempered," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"And dictatorial beyond measure. She nearly broke my poor dear +father's heart. And then she left the house because he would not shut +his doors against Reginald's mother. And now I hardly know what I am +to do here, or what I must say to this young lady when she comes +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Is she coming alone?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know. She has a mother, Lady Augustus Trefoil,—but whether +Lady Augustus will accompany her daughter we have not heard. Reginald +says certainly not, or they would have told us so. You have seen +Reginald?"</p> + +<p>"No, Lady Ushant."</p> + +<p>"You must see him. He is here now. Think what a difference it will +make to him."</p> + +<p>"But Lady Ushant,—is he so bad?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Fanning almost says that there is no hope. This poor young woman +that is coming;—what am I to say to her? He has made his will. That +was done before I came. I don't know why he shouldn't have sent for +your father, but he had a gentleman down from town. I suppose he will +leave her something; but it is a great thing that Bragton should +remain in the family. Oh dear, oh dear,—if any one but a Morton were +to be here it would break my heart. Reginald is the only one left now +of the old branch. He's getting old and he ought to marry. It is so +serious when there's an old family property."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he will—only—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; exactly. One can't even think about it while this poor young +man is lying so ill. Mrs. Morton has been almost like his mother, and +has lived upon the Bragton property,—absolutely lived upon it,—and +now she is away from him because he chooses to do what he likes with +his own. Is it not awful? And she would not put her foot in the house +if she knew that Reginald was here. She told Mrs. Hopkins as much, +and she said that she wouldn't so much as write a line to me. Poor +fellow; he wrote it himself. And now he thinks so much about it. When +Dr. Fanning went back to London yesterday I think he took some +message to her."</p> + +<p>Mary remained there till lunch was announced but refused to go down +into the parlour, urging that she was expected home for dinner. "And +there is no chance for Mr. Twentyman?" asked Lady Ushant. Mary shook +her head. "Poor man! I do feel sorry for him as everybody speaks so +well of him. Of course, my dear, I have nothing to say about it. I +don't think girls should ever be in a hurry to marry, and if you +can't love <span class="nowrap">him—"</span></p> + +<p>"Dear Lady Ushant, it is quite settled."</p> + +<p>"Poor young man! But you must go and see Reginald." Then she was +taken into the library and did see Reginald. Were she to avoid +him,—specially,—she would tell her tale almost as plainly as though +she were to run after him. He greeted her kindly, almost +affectionately, expressing his extreme regret that his visit to +Cheltenham should have been postponed and a hope that she would be +much at Bragton. "The distance is so great, Reginald," said Lady +Ushant.</p> + +<p>"I can drive her over. It is a long walk, and I had made up my mind +to get Runciman's little phaeton. I shall order it for to-morrow if +Miss Masters will come." But Miss Masters would not agree to this. +She would walk over again some day as she liked the walk, but no +doubt she would only be in the way if she were to come often.</p> + +<p>"I have told her about Miss Trefoil," said Lady Ushant. "You know, my +dear, I look upon you almost as one of ourselves because you lived +here so long. But perhaps you had better postpone coming again till +she has gone."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Lady Ushant."</p> + +<p>"It might be difficult to explain. I don't suppose she will stay +long. Perhaps she will go back the same day. I am sure I shan't know +what to say to her. But when anything is fixed I will send you in +word by the postman."</p> + +<p>Reginald would have walked back with her across the bridge but that +he had promised to go to his cousin immediately after lunch. As it +was he offered to accompany her a part of the way, but was stopped by +his aunt, greatly to Mary's comfort. He was now more beyond her reach +than ever,—more utterly removed from her. He would probably become +Squire of Bragton, and she, in her earliest days, had heard the late +Squire spoken of as though he were one of the potentates of the +earth. She had never thought it possible; but now it was less +possible than ever. There was something in his manner to her almost +protective, almost fatherly,—as though he had some authority over +her. Lady Ushant had authority once, but he had none. In every tone +of his voice she felt that she heard an expression of interest in her +welfare,—but it was the interest which a grown-up person takes in a +child, or a superior in an inferior. Of course he was her superior, +but yet the tone of his voice was distasteful to her. As she walked +back to Dillsborough she told herself that she would not go again to +Bragton without assuring herself that he was not there.</p> + +<p>When she reached home many questions were asked of her, but she told +nothing of the secrets of the Morton family which had been so openly +confided to her. She would only say that she was afraid that Mr. John +Morton was very ill.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2-27" id="c2-27"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> +<h3>ARABELLA AGAIN AT BRAGTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Arabella Trefoil had adhered without flinching to the purpose she had +expressed of going down to Bragton to see the sick man. And yet at +that very time she was in the midst of her contest with Lord Rufford. +She was aware that a correspondence was going on between her father +and the young lord and that her father had demanded an interview. She +was aware also that the matter had been discussed at the family +mansion in Piccadilly, the Duke having come up to London for the +purpose, and that the Duke and his brother, who hardly ever spoke to +each other, had absolutely had a conference. And this conference had +had results. The Duke had not himself consented to interfere, but he +had agreed to a compromise proposed by his son. Lord Augustus should +be authorised to ask Lord Rufford to meet him in the library of the +Piccadilly mansion,—so that there should be some savour of the +dukedom in what might be done and said there. Lord Rufford would by +the surroundings be made to feel that in rejecting Arabella he was +rejecting the Duke and all the Mayfair belongings, and that in +accepting her he would be entitled to regard himself as accepting +them all. But by allowing thus much the Duke would not compromise +himself,—nor the Duchess, nor Lord Mistletoe. Lord Mistletoe, with +that prudence which will certainly in future years make him a useful +assistant to some minister of the day, had seen all this, and so it +had been arranged.</p> + +<p>But, in spite of these doings, Arabella had insisted on complying +with John Morton's wish that she go down and visit him in his bed at +Bragton. Her mother, who in these days was driven almost to +desperation by her daughter's conduct, tried her best to prevent the +useless journey, but tried in vain. "Then," she said in wrath to +Arabella, "I will tell your father, and I will tell the Duke, and I +will tell Lord Rufford that they need not trouble themselves any +further." "You know, mamma, that you will do nothing of the kind," +said Arabella. And the poor woman did do nothing of the kind. "What +is it to them whether I see the man or not?" the girl said. "They are +not such fools as to suppose that because Lord Rufford has engaged +himself to me now I was never engaged to any one before. There isn't +one of them doesn't know that you had made up an engagement between +us and had afterwards tried to break it off." When she heard this the +unfortunate mother raved, but she raved in vain. She told her +daughter that she would not supply her with money for the expenses of +her journey, but her daughter replied that she would have no +difficulty in finding her way to a pawn shop. "What is to be got by +it?" asked the unfortunate mother. In reply to this Arabella would +say, "Mamma, you have no heart;—absolutely none. You ought to +manœuvre better than you do, for your feelings never stand in your +way for a moment." All this had to be borne, and the old woman was +forced at last not only to yield but to promise that she would +accompany her daughter to Bragton. "I know how all this will end," +she said to Arabella. "You will have to go your way and I must go +mine." "Just so," replied the daughter. "I do not often agree with +you, mamma; but I do there altogether."</p> + +<p>Lady Augustus was absolutely at a loss to understand what were the +motives and what the ideas which induced her daughter to take the +journey. If the man were to die no good could come of it. If he were +to live then surely that love which had induced him to make so +foolish a petition would suffice to ensure the marriage, if the +marriage should then be thought desirable. But, at the present +moment, Arabella was still hot in pursuit of Lord Rufford;—to whom +this journey, as soon as it should be known to him, would give the +easiest mode of escape! How would it be possible that they two should +get out at the Dillsborough Station and be taken to Bragton without +all Rufford knowing it. Of course there would be hymns sung in praise +of Arabella's love and constancy, but such hymns would be absolutely +ruinous to her. It was growing clear to Lady Augustus that her +daughter was giving up the game and becoming frantic as she thought +of her age, her failure, and her future. If so it would be well that +they should separate.</p> + +<p>On the day fixed a close carriage awaited them at the Dillsborough +Station. They arrived both dressed in black and both veiled,—and +with but one maid between them. This arrangement had been made with +some vague idea of escaping scrutiny rather than from economy. They +had never hitherto been known to go anywhere without one apiece. +There were no airs on the station now as on that former occasion,—no +loud talking; not even a word spoken. Lady Augustus was asking +herself why,—why she should have been put into so lamentable a +position, and Arabella was endeavouring to think what she would say +to the dying man.</p> + +<p>She did think that he was dying. It was not the purport of her +present visit to strengthen her position by making certain of the +man's hand should he live. When she said that she was not as yet +quite so hard-hearted as her mother, she spoke the truth. Something +of regret, something of penitence had at times crept over her in +reference to her conduct to this man. He had been very unlike others +on whom she had played her arts. None of her lovers, or mock lovers, +had been serious and stern and uncomfortable as he. There had been no +other who had ever attempted to earn his bread. To her the +butterflies of the world had been all in all, and the working bees +had been a tribe apart with which she was no more called upon to mix +than is my lady's spaniel with the kennel hounds. But the chance had +come. She had consented to exhibit her allurements before a man of +business and the man of business had at once sat at her feet. She had +soon repented,—as the reader has seen. The alliance had been +distasteful to her. She had found that the man's ways were in no wise +like her ways,—and she had found also that were she to become his +wife, he certainly would not change. She had looked about for a means +of escape,—but as she did so she had recognized the man's truth. No +doubt he had been different from the others, less gay in his attire, +less jocund in his words, less given to flattery and sport and gems +and all the little wickednesses which she had loved. But they,—those +others had, one and all, struggled to escape from her. Through all +the gems and mirth and flattery there had been the same purpose. They +liked the softness of her hand, they liked the flutter of her silk, +they liked to have whispered in their ears the bold words of her +practised raillery. Each liked for a month or two to be her special +friend. But then, after that, each had deserted her as had done the +one before; till in each new alliance she felt that such was to be +her destiny, and that she was rolling a stone which would never +settle itself, straining for waters which would never come lip high. +But John Morton, after once saying that he loved her, had never +tired, had never wished to escape. He had been so true to his love, +so true to his word, that he had borne from her usage which would +have fully justified escape had escape been to his taste. But to the +last he had really loved her, and now, on his death bed, he had sent +for her to come to him. She would not be coward enough to refuse his +request. "Should he say anything to you about his will don't refuse +to hear him, because it may be of the greatest importance," Lady +Augustus whispered to her daughter as the carriage was driven up to +the front door.</p> + +<p>It was then four o'clock, and it was understood that the two ladies +were to stay that one night at Bragton, a letter having been received +by Lady Ushant that morning informing her that the mother as well as +the daughter was coming. Poor Lady Ushant was almost beside +herself,—not knowing what she would do with the two women, and +having no one in the house to help her. Something she had heard of +Lady Augustus, but chiefly from Mrs. Hopkins who certainly had not +admired her master's future mother-in-law. Nor had Arabella been +popular; but of her Mrs. Hopkins had only dared to say that she was +very handsome and "a little upstartish." How she was to spend the +evening with them Lady Ushant could not conceive,—it having been +decided, in accordance with the doctor's orders, that the interview +should not take place till the next morning. When they were shown in +Lady Ushant stood just within the drawing-room door and muttered a +few words as she gave her hand to each. "How is he?" asked Arabella, +throwing up her veil boldly, as soon as the door was closed. Lady +Ushant only shook her head. "I knew it would be so. It is always so +with anything I care for."</p> + +<p>"She is so distressed, Lady Ushant," said the mother, "that she +hardly knows what she does." Arabella shook her head. "It is so, Lady +Ushant."</p> + +<p>"Am I to go to him now?" said Arabella. Then the old lady explained +the doctor's orders, and offered to take them to their rooms. +"Perhaps I might say a word to you alone? I will stay here if you +will go with mamma." And she did stay till Lady Ushant came down to +her. "Do you mean to say it is certain," she asked,—"certain that he +must—die?"</p> + +<p>"No;—I do not say that."</p> + +<p>"It is possible that he may recover?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly it is possible. What is not possible with God?"</p> + +<p>"Ah;—that means that he will die." Then she sat herself down and +almost unconsciously took off her bonnet and laid it aside. Lady +Ushant, then looking into her face for the first time, was at a loss +to understand what she had heard of her beauty. Could it be the same +girl of whom Mrs. Hopkins had spoken and of whose brilliant beauty +Reginald had repeated what he had heard? She was haggard, almost old, +with black lines round her eyes. There was nothing soft or gracious +in the tresses of her hair. When Lady Ushant had been young men had +liked hair such as was that of Mary Masters. Arabella's yellow +locks,—whencesoever they might have come,—were rough and uncombed. +But it was the look of age, and the almost masculine strength of the +lower face which astonished Lady Ushant the most. "Has he spoken to +you about me?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Not to me." Then Lady Ushant went on to explain that though she was +there now as the female representative of the family she had never +been so intimate with John Morton as to admit of such confidence as +that suggested.</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether he can love me," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly he does, Miss Trefoil. Why else should he send for you?"</p> + +<p>"Because he is an honest man. I hardly think that he can love me +much. He was to have been my husband, but he will escape that. If I +thought that he would live I would tell him that he was free."</p> + +<p>"He would not want to be—free."</p> + +<p>"He ought to want it. I am not fit for him. I have come here, Lady +Ushant, because I want to tell him the truth."</p> + +<p>"But you love him?" Arabella made no answer, but sat looking steadily +into Lady Ushant's face. "Surely you do love him."</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I don't think I did love him,—though now I may. It +is so horrible that he should die, and die while all this is going +on. That softens one you know. Have you ever heard of Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford;—the young man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—the young man."</p> + +<p>"Never particularly. I knew his father."</p> + +<p>"But not this man? Mr. Morton never spoke to you of him."</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"I have been engaged to him since I became engaged to your nephew."</p> + +<p>"Engaged to Lord Rufford,—to marry him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—indeed."</p> + +<p>"And will you marry him?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say. I tell you this, Lady Ushant, because I must tell +somebody in this house. I have behaved very badly to Mr. Morton, and +Lord Rufford is behaving as badly to me."</p> + +<p>"Did John know of this?"</p> + +<p>"No;—but I meant to tell him. I determined that I would tell him had +he lived. When he sent for me I swore that I would tell him. If he is +dying,—how can I say it?" Lady Ushant sat bewildered, thinking over +it, understanding nothing of the world in which this girl had lived, +and not knowing now how things could have been as she described them. +It was not as yet three months since, to her knowledge, this young +woman had been staying at Bragton as the affianced bride of the owner +of the house,—staying there with her own mother and his +grandmother,—and now she declared that since that time she had +become engaged to another man and that that other man had already +jilted her! And yet she was here that she might make a deathbed +parting with the man who regarded himself as her affianced husband. +"If I were sure that he were dying, why should I trouble him?" she +said again.</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant found herself utterly unable to give any counsel to such +a condition of circumstances. Why should she be asked? This young +woman had her mother with her. Did her mother know all this, and +nevertheless bring her daughter to the house of a man who had been so +treated! "I really do not know what to say," she replied at last.</p> + +<p>"But I was determined that I would tell some one. I thought that Mrs. +Morton would have been here." Lady Ushant shook her head. "I am glad +she is not, because she was not civil to me when I was here before. +She would have said hard things to me,—though not perhaps harder +than I have deserved. I suppose I may still see him to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; he expects it."</p> + +<p>"I shall not tell him now. I could not tell him if I thought he were +dying. If he gets better you must tell him all."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I could do that, Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>"Pray do;—pray do. I call upon you to tell him everything."</p> + +<p>"Tell him that you will be married to Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"No;—not that. If Mr. Morton were well to-morrow I would have +him,—if he chose to take me after what I have told you."</p> + +<p>"You do love him then?"</p> + +<p>"At any rate I like no one better."</p> + +<p>"Not the young lord?"</p> + +<p>"No! why should I like him? He does not love me. I hate him. I would +marry Mr. Morton to-morrow, and go with him to Patagonia, or anywhere +else,—if he would have me after hearing what I have done." Then she +rose from her chair; but before she left the room she said a word +further. "Do not speak a word to my mother about this. Mamma knows +nothing of my purpose. Mamma only wants me to marry Lord Rufford, and +to throw Mr. Morton over. Do not tell anyone else, Lady Ushant; but +if he is ever well enough then you must tell him." After that she +went, leaving Lady Ushant in the room astounded by the story she had +heard.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> + +<p><a name="c3-1" id="c3-1"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>VOLUME III.</h3> +<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> +<h3>"I HAVE TOLD HIM EVERYTHING."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>That evening was very long and very sad to the three ladies assembled +in the drawing-room at Bragton Park, but it was probably more so to +Lady Augustus than the other two. She hardly spoke to either of them; +nor did they to her; while a certain amount of conversation in a low +tone was carried on between Lady Ushant and Miss Trefoil. When +Arabella came down to dinner she received a message from the sick +man. He sent his love, and would so willingly have seen her +instantly,—only that the doctor would not allow it. But he was so +glad,—so very glad that she had come! This Lady Ushant said to her +in a whisper, and seemed to say it as though she had heard nothing of +that frightful story which had been told to her not much more than an +hour ago. Arabella did not utter a word in reply, but put out her +hand, secretly as it were, and grasped that of the old lady to whom +she had told the tale of her later intrigues. The dinner did not keep +them long, but it was very grievous to them all. Lady Ushant might +have made some effort to be at least a complaisant hostess to Lady +Augustus had she not heard this story,—had she not been told that +the woman, knowing her daughter to be engaged to John Morton, had +wanted her to marry Lord Rufford. The story having come from the lips +of the girl herself had moved some pity in the old woman's breast in +regard to her; but for Lady Augustus she could feel nothing but +horror.</p> + +<p>In the evening Lady Augustus sat alone, not even pretending to open a +book or to employ her fingers. She seated herself on one side of the +fire with a screen in her hand, turning over such thoughts in her +mind as were perhaps customary to her. Would there ever come a period +to her misery, an hour of release in which she might be in comfort +ere she died? Hitherto from one year to another, from one decade to +the following, it had all been struggle and misery, contumely and +contempt. She thought that she had done her duty by her child, and +her child hated and despised her. It was but the other day that +Arabella had openly declared that in the event of her marriage she +would not have her mother as a guest in her own house. There could be +no longer hope for triumph and glory;—but how might she find peace +so that she might no longer be driven hither and thither by this +ungrateful tyrant child? Oh, how hard she had worked in the world, +and how little the world had given her in return!</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant and Arabella sat at the other side of the fire, at some +distance from it, on a sofa, and carried on a fitful conversation in +whispers, of which a word would now and then reach the ears of the +wretched mother. It consisted chiefly of a description of the man's +illness, and of the different sayings which had come from the doctors +who had attended him. It was marvellous to Lady Augustus, as she sat +there listening, that her daughter should condescend to take an +interest in such details. What could it be to her now how the fever +had taken him, or why or when? On the very next day, the very morning +on which she would go and sit,—ah so uselessly,—by the dying man's +bedside, her father was to meet Lord Rufford at the ducal mansion in +Piccadilly, to see if anything could be done in that quarter! It was +impossible that she should really care whether John Morton's lease of +life was to be computed at a week's purchase or at that of a month! +And yet Arabella sat there asking sick-room questions and listening +to sick-room replies as though her very nature had been changed. Lady +Augustus heard her daughter inquire what food the sick man took, and +then Lady Ushant at great length gave the list of his nourishment. +What sickening hypocrisy! thought Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>Lady Augustus must have known her daughter well; and yet it was not +hypocrisy. The girl's nature, which had become thoroughly evil from +the treatment it had received, was not altered. Such sudden changes +do not occur more frequently than other miracles. But zealously as +she had practised her arts she had not as yet practised them long +enough not to be cowed by certain outward circumstances. There were +moments when she still heard in her imagination the sound of that +horse's foot as it struck the skull of the unfortunate fallen +rider;—and now the prospect of the death of this man whom she had +known so intimately and who had behaved so well to her,—to whom her +own conduct had been so foully false,—for a time brought her back to +humanity. But Lady Augustus had got beyond that and could not at all +understand it.</p> + +<p>By nine they had all retired for the night. It was necessary that +Lady Ushant should again visit her nephew, and the mother and +daughter went to their own rooms. "I cannot in the least make out +what you are doing," said Lady Augustus in her most severe voice.</p> + +<p>"I dare say not, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I have been brought here, at a terrible sacrifice—"</p> + +<p>"Sacrifice! What sacrifice? You are as well here as anywhere else."</p> + +<p>"I say I have been brought here at a terrible sacrifice for no +purpose whatever. What use is it to be? And then you pretend to care +what this poor man is eating and drinking and what physic he is +taking when, the last time you were in his company, you wouldn't so +much as look at him for fear you should make another man jealous."</p> + +<p>"He was not dying then."</p> + +<p>"Psha!"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. I know all that. I do feel a little ashamed of myself when I +am almost crying for him."</p> + +<p>"As if you loved him!"</p> + +<p>"Dear mamma, I do own that it is foolish. Having listened to you on +these subjects for a dozen years at least I ought to have got rid of +all that. I don't suppose I do love him. Two or three weeks ago I +almost thought I loved Lord Rufford, and now I am quite sure that I +hate him. But if I heard to-morrow that he had broken his neck out +hunting, I ain't sure but what I should feel something. But he would +not send for me as this man has done."</p> + +<p>"It was very impertinent."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was ill-bred, as he must have suspected something as to +Lord Rufford. However we are here now."</p> + +<p>"I will never allow you to drag me anywhere again."</p> + +<p>"It will be for yourself to judge of that. If I want to go anywhere, +I shall go. What's the good of quarrelling? You know that I mean to +have my way."</p> + +<p>The next morning neither Lady Augustus nor Miss Trefoil came down to +breakfast, but at ten o'clock Arabella was ready, as appointed, to be +taken into the sick man's bedroom. She was still dressed in black but +had taken some trouble with her face and hair. She followed Lady +Ushant in, and silently standing by the bedside put her hand upon +that of John Morton which was laying outside on the bed. "I will +leave you now, John," said Lady Ushant retiring, "and come again in +half an hour."</p> + +<p>"When I ring," he said.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't let him talk for more than that," said the old lady to +Arabella as she went.</p> + +<p>It was more than an hour afterwards when Arabella crept into her +mother's room, during which time Lady Ushant had twice knocked at her +nephew's door and had twice been sent away. "It is all over, mamma!" +she said.</p> + +<p>Lady Augustus looked into her daughter's eyes and saw that she had +really been weeping. "All over!"</p> + +<p>"I mean for me,—and you. We have only got to go away."</p> + +<p>"Will he—die?"</p> + +<p>"It will make no matter though he should live for ever. I have told +him everything. I did not mean to do it because I thought that he +would be weak; but he has been strong enough for that."</p> + +<p>"What have you told him?"</p> + +<p>"Just everything—about you and Lord Rufford and myself,—and what an +escape he had had not to marry me. He understands it all now."</p> + +<p>"It is a great deal more than I do."</p> + +<p>"He knows that Lord Rufford has been engaged to me." She clung to +this statement so vehemently that she had really taught herself to +believe that it was so.</p> + +<p>"Well!"</p> + +<p>"And he knows also how his lordship is behaving to me. Of course he +thinks that I have deserved it. Of course I have deserved it. We have +nothing to do now but to go back to London."</p> + +<p>"You have brought me here all the way for that."</p> + +<p>"Only for that! As the man was dying I thought that I would be honest +just for once. Now that I have told him I don't believe that he will +die. He does not look to be so very ill."</p> + +<p>"And you have thrown away that chance!"</p> + +<p>"Altogether. You didn't like Bragton you know, and therefore it can't +matter to you."</p> + +<p>"Like it!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure you would have got rid of me had I gone to Patagonia. But +he will not go to Patagonia now even if he gets well; and so there +was nothing to be gained. The carriage is to be here at two to take +us to the station and you may as well let Judith come and put the +things up."</p> + +<p>Just before they took their departure Lady Ushant came to Arabella +saying that Mr. Morton wanted to speak one other word to her before +she went. So she returned to the room and was again left alone at the +man's bedside. "Arabella," he said, "I thought that I would tell you +that I have forgiven everything."</p> + +<p>"How can you have forgiven me? There are things which a man cannot +forgive."</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand," he said,—and she gave him her hand. "I do +forgive it all. Even should I live it would be impossible that we +should be man and wife."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"But nevertheless I love you. Try,—try to be true to some one."</p> + +<p>"There is no truth left in me, Mr. Morton. I should not dishonour my +husband if I had one, but still I should be a curse to him. I shall +marry some day I suppose, and I know it will be so. I wish I could +change with you,—and die."</p> + +<p>"You are unhappy now."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am. I am always unhappy. I do not think you can tell what +it is to be so wretched. But I am glad that you have forgiven me." +Then she stooped down and kissed his hand. As she did so he touched +her brow with his hot lips, and then she left him again. Lady Ushant +was waiting outside the door. "He knows it all," said Arabella. "You +need not trouble yourself with the message I gave you. The carriage +is at the door. Good-bye. You need not come down. Mamma will not +expect it." Lady Ushant, hardly knowing how she ought to behave, did +not go down. Lady Augustus and her daughter got into Mr. Runciman's +carriage without any farewells, and were driven back from the park to +the Dillsborough Station. To poor Lady Ushant the whole thing had +been very terrible. She sat silent and unoccupied the whole of that +evening wondering at the horror of such a history. This girl had +absolutely dared to tell the dying man all her own disgrace,—and had +travelled down from London to Bragton with the purpose of doing so! +When next she crept into the sick-room she almost expected that her +nephew would speak to her on the subject;—but he only asked whether +that sound of wheels which he heard beneath his window had come from +the carriage which had taken them away, and then did not say a +further word of either Lady Augustus or her daughter.</p> + +<p>"And what do you mean to do now?" said Lady Augustus as the train +approached the London terminus.</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"You have given up Lord Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I have not."</p> + +<p>"Your journey to Bragton will hardly help you much with him."</p> + +<p>"I don't want it to help me at all. What have I done that Lord +Rufford can complain of? I have not abandoned Lord Rufford for the +sake of Mr. Morton. Lord Rufford ought only to be too proud if he +knew it all."</p> + +<p>"Of course he could make use of such an escapade as this?"</p> + +<p>"Let him try. I have not done with Lord Rufford yet, and so I can +tell him. I shall be at the Duke's in Piccadilly to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"That will be impossible, Arabella."</p> + +<p>"They shall see whether it is impossible. I have got beyond caring +very much what people say now. I know the kind of way papa would be +thrown over if there is no one there to back him. I shall be there +and I will ask Lord Rufford to his face whether we did not become +engaged when we were at Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"They won't let you in."</p> + +<p>"I'll find a way to make my way in. I shall never be his wife. I +don't know that I want it. After all what's the good of living with a +man if you hate each other,—or living apart like you and papa?"</p> + +<p>"He has income enough for anything!" exclaimed Lady Augustus, shocked +at her daughter's apparent blindness.</p> + +<p>"It isn't that I'm thinking of, but I'll have my revenge on him. +Liar! To write and say that I had made a mistake! He had not the +courage to get out of it when we were together; but when he had run +away in the night, like a thief, and got into his own house, then he +could write and say that I had made a mistake! I have sometimes +pitied men when I have seen girls hunting them down, but upon my word +they deserve it." This renewal of spirit did something to comfort +Lady Augustus. She had begun to fear that her daughter, in her +despair, would abandon altogether the one pursuit of her life;—but +it now seemed that there was still some courage left for the battle.</p> + +<p>That night nothing more was said, but Arabella applied all her mind +to the present condition of her circumstances. Should she or should +she not go to the house in Piccadilly on the following morning? At +last she determined that she would not do so, believing that should +her father fail she might make a better opportunity for herself +afterwards. At her uncle's house she would hardly have known where or +how to wait for the proper moment of her appearance. "So you are not +going to Piccadilly," said her mother on the following morning.</p> + +<p>"It appears not," said Arabella.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-2" id="c3-2"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> +<h3>"NOW WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO SAY?"<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It may be a question whether Lord Augustus Trefoil or Lord Rufford +looked forward to the interview which was to take place at the Duke's +mansion with the greater dismay. The unfortunate father whose only +principle in life had been that of avoiding trouble would have rather +that his daughter should have been jilted a score of times than that +he should have been called upon to interfere once. There was in this +demand upon him a breach of a silent but well-understood compact. His +wife and daughter had been allowed to do just what they pleased and +to be free of his authority, upon an understanding that they were +never to give him any trouble. She might have married Lord Rufford, +or Mr. Morton, or any other man she might have succeeded in catching, +and he would not have troubled her either before or after her +marriage. But it was not fair that he should be called upon to +interfere in her failures. And what was he to say to this young lord? +Being fat and old and plethoric he could not be expected to use a +stick and thrash the young lord. Pistols were gone,—a remembrance of +which fact perhaps afforded some consolation. Nobody now need be +afraid of anybody, and the young lord would not be afraid of him. +Arabella declared that there had been an engagement. The young lord +would of course declare that there had been none. Upon the whole he +was inclined to believe it most probable that his daughter was lying. +He did not think it likely that Lord Rufford should have been such a +fool. As for taking Lord Rufford by the back of his neck and shaking +him into matrimony, he knew that that would be altogether out of his +power. And then the hour was so wretchedly early. It was that little +fool Mistletoe who had named ten o'clock,—a fellow who took +Parliamentary papers to bed with him, and had a blue book brought to +him every morning at half-past seven with a cup of tea. By ten +o'clock Lord Augustus would not have had time to take his first glass +of soda and brandy preparatory to the labour of getting into his +clothes. But he was afraid of his wife and daughter, and absolutely +did get into a cab at the door of his lodgings in Duke Street, St. +James', precisely at a quarter past ten. As the Duke's house was +close to the corner of Clarges Street the journey he had to make was +not long.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford would not have agreed to the interview but that it was +forced upon him by his brother-in-law. "What good can it do?" Lord +Rufford had asked. But his brother-in-law had held that that was a +question to be answered by the other side. In such a position Sir +George thought that he was bound to concede as much as this,—in fact +to concede almost anything short of marriage. "He can't do the girl +any good by talking," Lord Rufford had said. Sir George assented to +this, but nevertheless thought that any friend deputed by her should +be allowed to talk, at any rate once. "I don't know what he'll say. +Do you think he'll bring a big stick?" Sir George who knew Lord +Augustus did not imagine that a stick would be brought. "I couldn't +hit him, you know. He's so fat that a blow would kill him." Lord +Rufford wanted his brother-in-law to go with him;—but Sir George +assured him that this was impossible. It was a great bore. He had to +go up to London all alone,—in February, when the weather was quite +open and hunting was nearly coming to an end. And for what? Was it +likely that such a man as Lord Augustus should succeed in talking him +into marrying any girl? Nevertheless he went, prepared to be very +civil, full of sorrow at the misunderstanding, but strong in his +determination not to yield an inch. He arrived at the mansion +precisely at ten o'clock and was at once shown into a back room on +the ground floor. He saw no one but a very demure old servant who +seemed to look upon him as one who was sinning against the Trefoil +family in general, and who shut the door upon him, leaving him as it +were in prison. He was so accustomed to be the absolute master of his +own minutes and hours that he chafed greatly as he walked up and down +the room for what seemed to him the greater part of a day. He looked +repeatedly at his watch, and at half-past ten declared to himself +that if that fat old fool did not come within two minutes he would +make his escape.</p> + +<p>"The fat old fool" when he reached the house asked for his nephew and +endeavoured to persuade Lord Mistletoe to go with him to the +interview. But Lord Mistletoe was as firm in refusing as had been Sir +George Penwether. "You are quite wrong," said the young man with +well-informed sententious gravity. "I could do nothing to help you. +You are Arabella's father and no one can plead her cause but +yourself." Lord Augustus dropped his eyebrows over his eyes as this +was said. They who knew him well and had seen the same thing done +when his partner would not answer his call at whist or had led up to +his discard were aware that the motion was tantamount to a very +strong expression of disgust. He did not, however, argue the matter +any further, but allowed himself to be led away slowly by the same +solemn servant. Lord Rufford had taken up his hat preparatory to his +departure when Lord Augustus was announced just five minutes after +the half hour.</p> + +<p>When the elder man entered the room the younger one put down his hat +and bowed. Lord Augustus also bowed and then stood for a few moments +silent with his fat hands extended on the round table in the middle +of the room. "This is a very disagreeable kind of thing, my Lord," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Very disagreeable, and one that I lament above all things," answered +Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well;—very well indeed;—but, damme, what's the +meaning of it all? That's what I want to ask. What's the meaning of +it all?" Then he paused as though he had completed the first part of +his business,—and might now wait awhile till the necessary +explanation had been given. But Lord Rufford did not seem disposed to +give any immediate answer. He shrugged his shoulders, and, taking up +his hat, passed his hand once or twice round the nap. Lord Augustus +opened his eyes very wide as he waited and looked at the other man; +but it seemed that the other man had nothing to say for himself. "You +don't mean to tell me, I suppose, that what my daughter says isn't +true."</p> + +<p>"Some unfortunate mistake, Lord Augustus;—most unfortunate."</p> + +<p>"Mistake be ——." He stopped himself before the sentence was +completed, remembering that such an interview should be conducted on +the part of him, as father, with something of dignity. "I don't +understand anything about mistakes. Ladies don't make mistakes of +that kind. I won't hear of mistakes." Lord Rufford again shrugged his +shoulders. "You have engaged my daughter's affections."</p> + +<p>"I have the greatest regard for Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>"Regard be ——." Then again he remembered himself. "Lord +Rufford, you've got to marry her. That's the long and the short of it."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I ought to be proud."</p> + +<p>"So you ought."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"I don't know the meaning of but, my Lord. I want to know what you +mean to do."</p> + +<p>"Marriage isn't in my line at all."</p> + +<p>"Then what the d—— business have you to go about and talk +to a girl like that? Marriage not in your line! Who cares for your line? +I never heard such impudence in all my life. You get yourself engaged +to a young lady of high rank and position and then you say +that—marriage isn't in your line." Upon that he opened his eyes +still wider, and glared upon the offender wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"I can't admit that I was ever engaged to Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you make love to her?"</p> + +<p>The poor victim paused a moment before he answered this question, +thereby confessing his guilt before he denied it. "No, my Lord; I +don't think I ever did."</p> + +<p>"You don't think! You don't know whether you asked my daughter to +marry you or not! You don't think you made love to her!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure I didn't ask her to marry me."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you did. And now what have you got to say?" Here there was +another shrug of the shoulders. "I suppose you think because you are +a rich man that you may do whatever you please. But you'll have to +learn the difference. You must be exposed, Sir."</p> + +<p>"I hope for the lady's sake that as little as possible may be said of +it."</p> + +<p>"D—— the ——!" Lord Augustus in his assumed +wrath was about to be +very severe on his daughter, but he checked himself again. "I'm not +going to stop here talking all day," he said. "I want to hear your +explanation and then I shall know how to act." Up to this time he had +been standing, which was unusual with him. Now he flung himself into +an armchair.</p> + +<p>"Really, Lord Augustus, I don't know what I've got to say. I admire +your daughter exceedingly. I was very much honoured when she and her +mother came to my house at Rufford. I was delighted to be able to +show her a little sport. It gave me the greatest satisfaction when I +met her again at your brother's house. Coming home from hunting we +happened to be thrown together. It's a kind of thing that will occur, +you know. The Duchess seemed to think a great deal of it; but what +can one do? We could have had two postchaises, of course,—only one +doesn't generally send a young lady alone. She was very tired and +fainted with the fatigue. That I think is about all."</p> + +<p>"But,—damme, Sir, what did you say to her?" Lord Rufford again +rubbed the nap of his hat. "What did you say to her first of all, at +your own house?"</p> + +<p>"A poor fellow was killed out hunting and everybody was talking about +that. Your daughter saw it herself."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Lord Rufford, if I say that that's what we used to call +shuffling, at school. Because a man broke his neck out +<span class="nowrap">hunting—"</span></p> + +<p>"It was a kick on the head, Lord Augustus."</p> + +<p>"I don't care where he was kicked. What has that to do with your +asking my daughter to be your wife?"</p> + +<p>"But I didn't."</p> + +<p>"I say you did,—over and over again." Here Lord Augustus got out of +his chair, and made a little attempt to reach the recreant +lover;—but he failed and fell back again into his armchair. "It was +first at Rufford, and then you made an appointment to meet her at +Mistletoe. How do you explain that?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Trefoil is very fond of hunting."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she ever went out hunting in her life before she saw +you. You mounted her,—and gave her a horse,—and took her out,—and +brought her home. Everybody at Mistletoe knew all about it. My +brother and the Duchess were told of it. It was one of those things +that are plain to everybody as the nose on your face. What did you +say to her when you were coming home in that postchaise?"</p> + +<p>"She was fainting."</p> + +<p>"What has that to do with it? I don't care whether she fainted or +not. I don't believe she fainted at all. When she got into that +carriage she was engaged to you, and when she got out of it she was +engaged ever so much more. The Duchess knew all about it. Now what +have you got to say?" Lord Rufford felt that he had nothing to say. +"I insist upon having an answer."</p> + +<p>"It's one of the most unfortunate mistakes that ever were made."</p> + +<p>"By G——!" exclaimed Lord Augustus, turning his eyes up +against the wall, and appealing to some dark ancestor who hung there. +"I never heard of such a thing in all my life; never!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I might as well go now," said Lord Rufford after a pause.</p> + +<p>"You may go to the D——, Sir,—for the present." Then +Lord Rufford took his departure leaving the injured parent panting +with his exertions.</p> + +<p>As Lord Rufford went away he felt that that difficulty had been +overcome with much more ease than he had expected. He hardly knew +what it was that he had dreaded, but he had feared something much +worse than that. Had an appeal been made to his affections he would +hardly have known how to answer. He remembered well that he had +assured the lady that he loved her, and had a direct question been +asked him on that subject he would not have lied. He must have +confessed that such a declaration had been made by him. But he had +escaped that. He was quite sure that he had never uttered a hint in +regard to marriage, and he came away from the Duke's house almost +with an assurance that he had done nothing that was worthy of much +blame.</p> + +<p>Lord Augustus looked at his watch, rang the bell, and ordered a cab. +He must now go and see his daughter, and then he would have done with +the matter—for ever. But as he was passing through the hall his +nephew caught hold of him and took him back into the room. "What does +he say for himself?" asked Lord Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what he says. Of course he swears that he never spoke a +word to her."</p> + +<p>"My mother saw him paying her the closest attention."</p> + +<p>"How can I help that? What can I do? Why didn't your mother pin him +then and there? Women can always do that kind of thing if they +choose."</p> + +<p>"It is all over, then?"</p> + +<p>"I can't make a man marry if he won't. He ought to be thrashed within +an inch of his life. But if one does that kind of thing the police +are down upon one. All the same, I think the Duchess might have +managed it if she had chosen." After that he went to the lodgings in +Orchard Street, and there repeated his story. "I have done all I +can," he said, "and I don't mean to interfere any further. Arabella +should know how to manage her own affairs."</p> + +<p>"And you don't mean to punish him?" asked the mother.</p> + +<p>"Punish him! How am I to punish him? If I were to throw a decanter at +his head, what good would that do?"</p> + +<p>"And you mean to say that she must put up with it?" Arabella was +sitting by as these questions were asked.</p> + +<p>"He says that he never said a word to her. Whom am I to believe?"</p> + +<p>"You did believe him, papa?"</p> + +<p>"Who said so, Miss? But I don't see why his word isn't as good as +yours. There was nobody to hear it, I suppose. Why didn't you get it +in writing, or make your uncle fix him at once? If you mismanage your +own affairs I can't put them right for you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, papa. I am so much obliged to you. You come back and tell +me that every word he says is to be taken for gospel, and that you +don't believe a word I have spoken. That is so kind of you! I suppose +he and you will be the best friends in the world now. But I don't +mean to let him off in that way. As you won't help me, I must help +myself."</p> + +<p>"What did you expect me to do?"</p> + +<p>"Never to leave him till you had forced him to keep his word. I +should have thought that you would have taken him by the throat in +such a cause. Any other father would have done so."</p> + +<p>"You are an impudent, wicked girl, and I don't believe he was ever +engaged to you at all," said Lord Augustus as he took his leave.</p> + +<p>"Now you have made your father your enemy," said the mother.</p> + +<p>"Everybody is my enemy," said Arabella. "There are no such things as +love and friendship. Papa pretends that he does not believe me, just +because he wants to shirk the trouble. I suppose you'll say you don't +believe me next."</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-3" id="c3-3"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> +<h3>MRS. MORTON RETURNS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>A few days after that on which Lady Augustus and her daughter left +Bragton old Mrs. Morton returned to that place. She had gone away in +very bitterness of spirit against her grandson in the early days of +his illness. For some period antecedent to that there had been causes +for quarrelling. John Morton had told her that he had been to +Reginald's house, and she, in her wrath, replied that he had +disgraced himself by doing so. When those harsh words had been +forgotten, or at any rate forgiven, other causes of anger had sprung +up. She had endeavoured to drive him to repudiate Arabella Trefoil, +and in order that she might do so effectually had contrived to find +out something of Arabella's doings at Rufford and at Mistletoe. Her +efforts in this direction had had an effect directly contrary to that +which she had intended. There had been moments in which Morton had +been willing enough to rid himself of that burden. He had felt the +lady's conduct in his own house, and had seen it at Rufford. He, too, +had heard something of Mistletoe. But the spirit within him was +aroused at the idea of dictation, and he had been prompted to +contradict the old woman's accusation against his intended bride, by +the very fact that they were made by her. And then she threatened +him. If he did these things,—if he would consort with an outcast +from the family such as Reginald Morton, and take to himself such a +bride as Arabella Trefoil, he could never more be to her as her +child. This of course was tantamount to saying that she would leave +her money to some one else,—money which, as he well knew, had all +been collected from the Bragton property. He had ever been to her as +her son, and yet he was aware of a propensity on her part to enrich +her own noble relatives with her hoards,—a desire from gratifying +which she had hitherto been restrained by conscience. Morton had been +anxious enough for his grandmother's money, but, even in the hope of +receiving it, would not bear indignity beyond a certain point. He had +therefore declared it to be his purpose to marry Arabella Trefoil, +and because he had so declared he had almost brought himself to +forgive that young lady's sins against him. Then, as his illness +became serious, there arose the question of disposing of the property +in the event of his death. Mrs. Morton was herself very old, and was +near her grave. She was apt to speak of herself as one who had but a +few days left to her in this world. But, to her, property was more +important than life or death;—and rank probably more important than +either. She was a brave, fierce, evil-minded, but conscientious old +woman,—one, we may say, with very bad lights indeed, but who was +steadfastly minded to walk by those lights, such as they were. She +did not scruple to tell her grandson that it was his duty to leave +the property away from his cousin Reginald, nor to allege as a reason +for his doing so that in all probability Reginald Morton was not the +legitimate heir of his great-grandfather, Sir Reginald. For such an +assertion John Morton knew there was not a shadow of ground. No one +but this old woman had ever suspected that the Canadian girl whom +Reginald's father had brought with him to Bragton had been other than +his honest wife;—and her suspicions had only come from vague +assertions, made by herself in blind anger till at last she had +learned to believe them. Then, when in addition to this, he asserted +his purpose of asking Arabella Trefoil to come to him at Bragton, the +cup of her wrath was overflowing, and she withdrew from the house +altogether. It might be that he was dying. She did in truth believe +that he was dying. But there were things more serious to her than +life or death. Should she allow him to trample upon all her feelings +because he was on his death-bed,—when perhaps in very truth he might +not be on his death-bed at all? She, at any rate, was near her +death,—and she would do her duty. So she packed up her things—to +the last black skirt of an old gown, so that every one at Bragton +might know that it was her purpose to come back no more. And she went +away.</p> + +<p>Then Lady Ushant came to take her place, and with Lady Ushant came +Reginald Morton. The one lived in the house and the other visited it +daily. And, as the reader knows, Lady Augustus came with her +daughter. Mrs. Morton, though she had gone,—for ever,—took care to +know of the comings and goings at Bragton. Mrs. Hopkins was enjoined +to write to her and tell her everything; and though Mrs. Hopkins with +all her heart took the side of Lady Ushant and Reginald, she had +never been well inclined to Miss Trefoil. Presents too were given and +promises were made; and Mrs. Hopkins, not without some little +treachery, did from time to time send to the old lady a record of +what took place at Bragton. Arabella came and went, and Mrs. Hopkins +thought that her coming had not led to much. Lady Ushant was always +with Mr. John,—such was the account given by Mrs. Hopkins;—and the +general opinion was that the squire's days were numbered.</p> + +<p>Then the old woman's jealousy was aroused, and, perhaps, her heart +was softened. It was still hard black winter, and she was living +alone in lodgings in London. The noble cousin, a man nearly as old as +herself whose children she was desirous to enrich, took but little +notice of her, nor would she have been happy had she lived with him. +Her life had been usually solitary,—with little breaks to its +loneliness occasioned by the visits to England of him whom she had +called her child. That this child should die before her, should die +in his youth, did not shock her much. Her husband had done so, and +her own son, and sundry of her noble brothers and sisters. She was +hardened against death. Life to her had never been joyous, though the +trappings of life were so great in her eyes. But it broke her heart +that her child should die in the arms of another old woman who had +always been to her as an enemy. Lady Ushant, in days now long gone by +but still remembered as though they were yesterday, had counselled +the reception of the Canadian female. And Lady Ushant, when the +Canadian female and her husband were dead, had been a mother to the +boy whom she, Mrs. Morton, would so fain have repudiated altogether. +Lady Ushant had always been "on the other side;" and now Lady Ushant +was paramount at Bragton.</p> + +<p>And doubtless there was some tenderness, though Mrs. Morton was +unwilling to own even to herself that she was moved by any such +feeling. If she had done her duty in counselling him to reject both +Reginald Morton and Arabella Trefoil,—as to which she admitted no +doubt in her own mind;—and if duty had required her to absent +herself when her counsel was spurned, then would she be weak and +unmindful of duty should she allow any softness of heart to lure her +back again. It was so she reasoned. But still some softness was +there; and when she heard that Miss Trefoil had gone, and that her +visit had not, in Mrs. Hopkins's opinion, "led to much," she wrote to +say that she would return. She made no request and clothed her +suggestion in no words of tenderness; but simply told her grandson +that she would come back—as the Trefoils had left him.</p> + +<p>And she did come. When the news were first told to Lady Ushant by the +sick man himself, that Lady proposed that she should at once go back +to Cheltenham. But when she was asked whether her animosity to Mrs. +Morton was so great that she could not consent to remain under the +same roof, she at once declared that she had no animosity whatsoever. +The idea of animosity running over nearly half a century was horrible +to her; and therefore, though she did in her heart of hearts dread +the other old woman, she consented to stay. "And what shall Reginald +do?" she asked. John Morton had thought about this too, and expressed +a wish that Reginald should come regularly,—as he had come during +the last week or two.</p> + +<p>It was just a week from the day on which the Trefoils had gone that +Mrs. Morton was driven up to the door in Mr. Runciman's fly. This was +at four in the afternoon, and had the old woman looked out of the fly +window she might have seen Reginald making his way by the little path +to the bridge which led back to Dillsborough. It was at this hour +that he went daily, and he had not now thought it worth his while to +remain to welcome Mrs. Morton. And she might also have seen, had she +looked out, that with him was walking a young woman. She would not +have known Mary Masters; but had she seen them both, and had she +known the young woman, she would have declared in her pride that they +were fit associates. But she saw nothing of this, sitting there +behind her veil, thinking whether she might still do anything, and if +so, what she might do to avert the present evil destination of the +Bragton estate. There was an honourable nephew of her own,—or rather +a great-nephew,—who might easily take the name, who would so +willingly take the name! Or if this were impracticable, there was a +distant Morton, very distant, whom she had never seen and certainly +did not love, but who was clearly a Morton, and who would certainly +be preferable to that enemy of forty years' standing. Might there not +be some bargain made? Would not her dying grandson be alive to the +evident duty of enriching the property and leaving behind him a +wealthy heir? She could enrich the property and make the heir wealthy +by her money.</p> + +<p>"How is he?" That of course was the first question when Mrs. Hopkins +met her in the hall. Mrs. Hopkins only shook her head and said that +perhaps he had taken his food that day a little better than on the +last. Then there was a whisper, to which Mrs. Hopkins whispered back +her answer. Yes,—Lady Ushant was in the house,—was at this moment +in the sick man's room. Mr. Reginald was not staying there,—had +never stayed there,—but came every day. He had only just left. "And +is he to come still?" asked Mrs. Morton with wrath in her eyes. Mrs. +Hopkins did not know but was disposed to think that Mr. Reginald +would come every day. Then Mrs. Morton went up to her own room,—and +while she prepared herself for her visit to the sick room Lady Ushant +retired. She had a cup of tea, refusing all other refreshment, and +then, walking erect as though she had been forty instead of +seventy-five, she entered her grandson's chamber and took her old +place at his bedside.</p> + +<p>Nothing was then said about Arabella, nor, indeed, at any future time +was her name mentioned between them;—nor was anything then said +about the future fate of the estate. She did not dare to bring up the +subject at once, though, on the journey down from London, she had +determined that she would do so. But she was awed by his appearance +and by the increased appanages of his sick-bed. He spoke, indeed, of +the property, and expressed his anxiety that Chowton Farm should be +bought, if it came into market. He thought that the old acres should +be redeemed, if the opportunity arose,—and if the money could be +found. "Chowton Farm!" exclaimed the old woman, who remembered well +the agony which had attended the alienation of that portion of the +Morton lands.</p> + +<p>"It may be that it will be sold."</p> + +<p>"Lawrence Twentyman sell Chowton Farm! I thought he was well off." +Little as she had been at Bragton she knew all about Chowton +Farm,—except that its owner was so wounded by vain love as to be +like a hurt deer. Her grandson did not tell her all the story, but +explained to her that Lawrence Twentyman, though not poor, had other +plans of life and thought of leaving the neighbourhood. She, of +course, had the money; and as she believed that land was the one +proper possession for an English gentleman of ancient family, she +doubtless would have been willing to buy it had she approved of the +hands into which it would fall. It seemed to her that it was her duty +to do as much for the estate with which all her fortune had been +concerned. "Yes," she said; "it should be bought,—if other things +suited. We will talk of it to-morrow, John." Then he spoke of his +mission to Patagonia and of his regret that it should be abandoned. +Even were he ever to be well again his strength would return to him +too late for this purpose. He had already made known to the Foreign +Office his inability to undertake that service. But she could +perceive that he had not in truth abandoned his hopes of living, for +he spoke much of his ambition as to the public service. The more he +thought of it, he said, the more certain he became that it would suit +him better to go on with his profession than to live the life of a +country squire in England. And yet she could see the change which had +taken place since she was last there and was aware that he was fading +away from day to day.</p> + +<p>It was not till they were summoned to dine together that she saw Lady +Ushant. Very many years had passed since last they were together, and +yet neither seemed to the other to be much changed. Lady Ushant was +still soft, retiring, and almost timid; whereas Mrs. Morton showed +her inclination to domineer even in the way in which she helped +herself to salt. While the servant was with them very little was said +on either side. There was a word or two from Mrs. Morton to show that +she considered herself the mistress there,—and a word from the other +lady proclaiming that she had no pretensions of that kind. But after +dinner in the little drawing-room they were more communicative. +Something of course was said as to the health of the invalid. Lady +Ushant was not the woman to give a pronounced opinion on such a +subject. She used doubtful, hesitating words, and would in one minute +almost contradict what she had said in the former. But Mrs. Morton +was clever enough to perceive that Lady Ushant was almost without +hope. Then she made a little speech with a fixed purpose. "It must be +a great trouble to you, Lady Ushant, to be so long away from home."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Lady Ushant in perfect innocence. "I have nothing +to bind me anywhere."</p> + +<p>"I shall think it my duty to remain here now,—till the end."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so. He has always been almost the same to you as your +own."</p> + +<p>"Quite so; quite the same. He is my own." And yet,—thought Lady +Ushant,—she left him in his illness! She, too, had heard something +from Mrs. Hopkins of the temper in which Mrs. Morton had last left +Bragton. "But you are not bound to him in that way."</p> + +<p>"Not in that way certainly."</p> + +<p>"In no way, I may say. It was very kind of you to come when business +made it imperative on me to go to town, but I do not think we can +call upon you for further sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"It is no sacrifice, Mrs. Morton." Lady Ushant was as meek as a worm, +but a worm will turn. And, though innocent, she was quick enough to +perceive that at this, their first meeting, the other old woman was +endeavouring to turn her out of the house.</p> + +<p>"I mean that it can hardly be necessary to call upon you to give up +your time."</p> + +<p>"What has an old woman to do with her time, Mrs. Morton?"</p> + +<p>Hitherto Mrs. Morton had smiled. The smile indeed had been grim, but +it had been intended to betoken outward civility. Now there came a +frown upon her brow which was more grim and by no means civil. "The +truth is that at such a time one who is almost a +<span class="nowrap">stranger—"</span></p> + +<p>"I am no stranger," said Lady Ushant.</p> + +<p>"You had not seen him since he was an infant."</p> + +<p>"My name was Morton as is his, and my dear father was the owner of +this house. Your husband, Mrs. Morton, was his grandfather and my +brother. I will allow no one to tell me that I am a stranger at +Bragton. I have lived here many more years than you."</p> + +<p>"A stranger to him, I meant. And now that he is ill—"</p> + +<p>"I shall stay with him—till he desires me to go away. He asked me to +stay and that is quite enough." Then she got up and left the room +with more dignity,—as also she had spoken with more +earnestness,—than Mrs. Morton had given her credit for possessing. +After that the two ladies did not meet again till the next day.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-4" id="c3-4"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> +<h3>THE TWO OLD LADIES.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the next morning Mrs. Morton did not come down to breakfast, but +sat alone upstairs nursing her wrath. During the night she had made +up her mind to one or two things. She would never enter her +grandson's chambers when Lady Ushant was there. She would not speak +to Reginald Morton, and should he come into her presence while she +was at Bragton she would leave the room. She would do her best to +make the house, in common parlance, "too hot" to hold that other +woman. And she would make use of those words which John had spoken +concerning Chowton Farm as a peg on which she might hang her +discourse in reference to his will. If in doing all this she should +receive that dutiful assistance which she thought that he owed +her,—then she should stand by his bed-side, and be tender to him, +and nurse him to the last as a mother would nurse a child. But if, as +she feared, he were headstrong in disobeying, then she would remember +that her duty to her family, if done with a firm purpose, would have +lasting results, while his life might probably be an affair of a few +weeks,—or even days.</p> + +<p>At about eleven Lady Ushant was with her patient when a message was +brought by Mrs. Hopkins. Mrs. Morton wished to see her grandson and +desired to know whether it would suit him that she should come now. +"Why not?" said the sick man, who was sitting up in his bed. Then +Lady Ushant collected her knitting and was about to depart. "Must you +go because she is coming?" Morton asked. Lady Ushant, shocked at the +necessity of explaining to him the ill feeling that existed, said +that perhaps it would be best. "Why should it be best?" Lady Ushant +shook her head, and smiled, and put her hand upon the +counterpane,—and retired. As she passed the door of her rival's room +she could see the black silk dress moving behind the partly open +door, and as she entered her own she heard Mrs. Morton's steps upon +the corridor. The place was already almost "too hot" for her. +Anything would be better than scenes like this in the house of a +dying man.</p> + +<p>"Need my aunt have gone away?" he asked after the first greeting.</p> + +<p>"I did not say so."</p> + +<p>"She seemed to think that she was not to stay."</p> + +<p>"Can I help what she thinks, John? Of course she feels that she +<span class="nowrap">is—"</span></p> + +<p>"Is what?"</p> + +<p>"An interloper—if I must say it."</p> + +<p>"But I have sent for her, and I have begged her to stay."</p> + +<p>"Of course she can stay if she wishes. But, dear John, there must be +much to be said between you and me which,—which cannot interest her; +or which, at least, she ought not to hear." He did not contradict +this in words, feeling himself to be too weak for contest; but within +his own mind he declared that it was not so. The things which +interested him now were as likely to interest his great-aunt as his +grandmother, and to be as fit for the ears of the one as for those of +the other.</p> + +<p>An hour had passed after this during which she tended him, giving him +food and medicine, and he had slept before she ventured to allude to +the subject which was nearest to her heart. "John," she said at last, +"I have been thinking about Chowton Farm."</p> + +<p>"Well."</p> + +<p>"It certainly should be bought."</p> + +<p>"If the man resolves on selling it."</p> + +<p>"Of course; I mean that. How much would it be?" Then he mentioned the +sum which Twentyman had named, saying that he had inquired and had +been told that the price was reasonable. "It is a large sum of money, +John."</p> + +<p>"There might be a mortgage for part of it."</p> + +<p>"I don't like mortgages. The property would not be yours at all if it +were mortgaged, as soon as bought. You would pay 5 per cent. for the +money and only get 3 per cent. from the land." The old lady +understood all about it.</p> + +<p>"I could pay it off in two years," said the sick man.</p> + +<p>"There need be no paying off, and no mortgage, if I did it. I almost +believe I have got enough to do it." He knew very well that she had +much more than enough. "I think more of this property than of +anything in the world, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Chowton Farm could be yours, you know."</p> + +<p>"What should I do with Chowton Farm? I shall probably be in my grave +before the slow lawyer would have executed the deeds." And I in mine, +thought he to himself, before the present owner has quite made up his +mind to part with his land. "What would a little place like that do +for me? But in my father-in-law's time it was part of the Bragton +property. He sold it to pay the debts of a younger son, forgetting, +as I thought, what he owed to the estate;"—It had in truth been sold +on behalf of the husband of this old woman who was now complaining. +"And if it can be recovered it is our duty to get it back again. A +property like this should never be lessened. It is in that way that +the country is given over to shopkeepers and speculators and is made +to be like France or Italy. I quite think that Chowton Farm should be +bought. And though I might die before it was done, I would find the +money."</p> + +<p>"I knew what your feeling would be."</p> + +<p>"Yes, John. You could not but know it well. +<span class="nowrap">But—"</span> Then she paused a +moment, looking into his face. "But I should wish to know what would +become of it—eventually."</p> + +<p>"If it were yours you could do what you pleased with it."</p> + +<p>"But it would be yours."</p> + +<p>"Then it would go with the rest of the property."</p> + +<p>"To whom would it go? We have all to die, my dear, and who can say +whom it may please the Almighty to take first?"</p> + +<p>"In this house, ma'am, every one can give a shrewd guess. I know my +own condition. If I die without children of my own every acre I +possess will go to the proper heir. Thinking as you do, you ought to +agree with me in that."</p> + +<p>"But who is the proper heir?"</p> + +<p>"My cousin Reginald. Do not let us contest it, ma'am. As certainly as +I lie here he will have Bragton when I am gone."</p> + +<p>"Will you not listen to me, John?"</p> + +<p>"Not about that. How could I die in peace were I to rob him?"</p> + +<p>"It is all your own,—to do as you like with."</p> + +<p>"It is all my own, but not to do as I like with. With your feelings, +with your ideas, how can you urge me to such an injustice?"</p> + +<p>"Do I want it for myself? I do not even want it for any one belonging +to me. There is your cousin Peter."</p> + +<p>"If he were the heir he should have it,—though I know nothing of him +and believe him to be but a poor creature and very unfit to have the +custody of a family property."</p> + +<p>"But he is his father's son."</p> + +<p>"I will believe nothing of that," said the sick man raising himself +in his bed. "It is a slander;—it is based on no evidence whatsoever. +No one even thought of it but you."</p> + +<p>"John, is that the way to speak to me?"</p> + +<p>"It is the way to speak of an assertion so injurious." Then he fell +back again on his pillows and she sat by his bedside for a full half +hour speechless, thinking of it all. At the end of that time she had +resolved that she would not yet give it up. Should he regain his +health and strength,—and she would pray fervently night and day that +God would be so good to him,—then everything would be well. Then he +would marry and have children, and Bragton would descend in the right +line. But were it to be ordained otherwise,—should it be God's will +that he must die,—then, as he grew weaker, he would become more +plastic in her hands, and she might still prevail. At present he was +stubborn with the old stubbornness, and would not see with her eyes. +She would bide her time and be careful to have a lawyer ready. She +turned it all over in her mind, as she sat there watching him in his +sleep. She knew of no one but Mr. Masters whom she distrusted as +being connected with the other side of the family,—whose father had +made that will by which the property in Dillsborough had been +dissevered from Bragton. But Mr. Masters would probably obey +instructions if they were given to him definitely.</p> + +<p>She thought of it all and then went down to lunch. She did not dare +to refuse altogether to meet the other woman lest such resolve on her +part might teach those in the house to think that Lady Ushant was the +mistress. She took her place at the head of the table and +interchanged a few words with her grandson's guest,—which of course +had reference to his health. Lady Ushant was very ill able to carry +on a battle of any sort and was willing to show her submission in +everything,—unless she were desired to leave the house. While they +were still sitting at table, Reginald Morton walked into the room. It +had been his habit to do so regularly for the last week. A daily +visitor does not wait to have himself announced. Reginald had +considered the matter and had determined that he would follow his +practice just as though Mrs. Morton were not there. If she were civil +to him then would he be very courteous to her. It had never occurred +to him to expect conduct such as that with which she greeted him. The +old woman got up and looked at him sternly. "My nephew, Reginald," +said Lady Ushant, supposing that some introduction might be +necessary. Mrs. Morton gathered the folds of her dress together and +without a word stalked out of the room. And yet she believed,—she +could not but believe,—that her grandson was on his deathbed in the +room above!</p> + +<p>"O Reginald, what are we to do?" said Lady Ushant.</p> + +<p>"Is she like that to you?"</p> + +<p>"She told me last night that I was a stranger, and that I ought to +leave the house."</p> + +<p>"And what did you say?"</p> + +<p>"I told her I should stay while he wished me to stay. But it is all +so terrible, that I think I had better go."</p> + +<p>"I would not stir a step—on her account."</p> + +<p>"But why should she be so bitter? I have done nothing to offend her. +It is more than half of even my long lifetime since I saw her. She is +nothing; but I have to think of his comfort. I suppose she is good to +him; and though he may bid me stay such scenes as this in the house +must be a trouble to him." Nevertheless Reginald was strong in +opinion that Lady Ushant ought not to allow herself to be driven +away, and declared his own purpose of coming daily as had of late +been his wont.</p> + +<p>Soon after this Reginald was summoned to go upstairs and he again met +the angry woman in the passage, passing her of course without a word. +And then Mary came to see her friend, and she also encountered Mrs. +Morton, who was determined that no one should come into that house +without her knowledge. "Who is that young woman?" said Mrs. Morton to +the old housekeeper.</p> + +<p>"That is Miss Masters, my Lady."</p> + +<p>"And who is Miss Masters,—and why does she come here at such a time +as this?"</p> + +<p>"She is the daughter of Attorney Masters, my Lady. It was she as was +brought up here by Lady Ushant."</p> + +<p>"Oh,—that young person."</p> + +<p>"She's come here generally of a day now to see her ladyship."</p> + +<p>"And is she taken up to my grandson?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no, my Lady. She sits with Lady Ushant for an hour or so +and then goes back with Mr. Reginald."</p> + +<p>"Oh—that is it, is it? The house is made use of for such purposes as +that!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think there is any purposes, my Lady," said Mrs. Hopkins, +almost roused to indignation, although she was talking to the +acknowledged mistress of the house whom she always called "my lady."</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant told the whole story to her young friend, bitterly +bewailing her position. "Reginald tells me not to go, but I do not +think that I can stand it. I should not mind the quarrel so +much,—only that he is so ill."</p> + +<p>"She must be a very evil-minded person."</p> + +<p>"She was always arrogant and always hard. I can remember her just the +same; but that was so many years ago. She left Bragton then because +she could not banish his mother from the house. But to bear it all in +her heart so long is not like a human being,—let alone a woman. What +did he say to you going home yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Lady Ushant."</p> + +<p>"Does he know that it will all be his if that poor young man should +die? He never speaks to me as if he thought of it."</p> + +<p>"He would certainly not speak to me about it. I do not think he +thinks of it. He is not like that."</p> + +<p>"Men do consider such things. And they are only cousins; and they +have never known each other! Oh, Mary!"</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of, Lady Ushant?"</p> + +<p>"Men ought not to care for money or position, but they do. If he +comes here, all that I have will be yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Ushant!"</p> + +<p>"It is not much but it will be enough."</p> + +<p>"I do not want to hear about such things now."</p> + +<p>"But you ought to be told. Ah, dear;—if it could be as I wish!" The +imprudent, weak-minded, loving old woman longed to hear a tale of +mutual love,—longed to do something which should cause such a tale +to be true on both sides. And yet she could not quite bring herself +to express her wish either to the man or to the woman.</p> + +<p>Poor Mary almost understood it, but was not quite sure of her +friend's meaning. She was, however, quite sure that if such were the +wish of Lady Ushant's heart, Lady Ushant was wishing in vain. She had +twice walked back to Dillsborough with Reginald Morton, and he had +been more sedate, more middle-aged, less like a lover than ever. She +knew now that she might safely walk with him, being sure that he was +no more likely to talk of love than would have been old Dr. Nupper +had she accepted the offer which he had made her of a cast in his +gig. And now that Reginald would probably become Squire of Bragton it +was more impossible than ever. As Squire of Bragton he would seek +some highly born bride, quite out of her way, whom she could never +know. And then she would see neither him—nor Bragton any more. Would +it not have been better that she should have married Larry Twentyman +and put an end to so many troubles beside her own?</p> + +<p>Again she walked back with him to Dillsborough, passing as they +always did across the little bridge. He seemed to be very silent as +he went, more so than usual,—and as was her wont with him she only +spoke to him when he addressed her. It was only when he got out on +the road that he told her what was on his mind. "Mary," he said, "how +will it be with me if that poor fellow dies?"</p> + +<p>"In what way, Mr. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"All that place will be mine. He told me so just now."</p> + +<p>"But that would be of course."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. He might give it to you if he pleased. He could not have +an heir who would care for it less. But it is right that it should be +so. Whether it would suit my taste or not to live as Squire of +Bragton,—and I do not think it would suit my taste well,—it ought +to be so. I am the next, and it will be my duty."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you do not want him to die."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. If I could save him by my right hand,—if I could save +him by my life, I would do it."</p> + +<p>"But of all lives it must surely be the best."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so? What is such a one likely to do? But then what do I +do, as it is? It is the sort of life you would like,—if you were a +man."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—if I were a man," said Mary. Then he again relapsed into +silence and hardly spoke again till he left her at her father's door.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-5" id="c3-5"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> +<h3>THE LAST EFFORT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Mary reached her home she was at once met by her stepmother in +the passage with tidings of importance. "He is up-stairs in the +drawing-room," said Mrs. Masters. Mary whose mind was laden with +thoughts of Reginald Morton asked who was the he. "Lawrence +Twentyman," said Mrs. Masters. "And now, my dear, do, do think of it +before you go to him." There was no anger now in her stepmother's +face,—but entreaty and almost love. She had not called Mary "my +dear" for many weeks past,—not since that journey to Cheltenham. Now +she grasped the girl's hand as she went on with her prayer. "He is so +good and so true! And what better can there be for you? With your +advantages, and Lady Ushant, and all that, you would be quite the +lady at Chowton. Think of your father and sisters;—what a good you +could do them! And think of the respect they all have for him, dining +with Lord Rufford the other day and all the other gentlemen. It isn't +only that he has got plenty to live on, but he knows how to keep it +as a man ought. He's sure to hold up his head and be as good a squire +as any of 'em." This was a very different tale;—a note altogether +changed! It must not be said that the difference of the tale and the +change of the note affected Mary's heart; but her stepmother's manner +to her did soften her. And then why should she regard herself or her +own feelings? Like others she had thought much of her own happiness, +had made herself the centre of her own circle, had, in her +imagination, built castles in the air and filled them according to +her fancy. But her fancies had been all shattered into fragments; not +a stone of her castles was standing; she had told herself +unconsciously that there was no longer a circle and no need for a +centre. That last half-hour which she had passed with Reginald Morton +on the road home had made quite sure that which had been sure enough +before. He was now altogether out of her reach, thinking only of the +new duties which were coming to him. She would never walk with him +again; never put herself in the way of indulging some fragment of an +illusory hope. She was nothing now,—nothing even to herself. Why +should she not give herself and her services to this young man if the +young man chose to take her as she was? It would be well that she +should do something in the world. Why should she not look after his +house, and mend his shirts, and reign over his poultry yard? In this +way she would be useful, and respected by all,—unless perhaps by the +man she loved. "Mary, say that you will think of it once more," +pleaded Mrs. Masters.</p> + +<p>"I may go up-stairs,—to my own room?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; do;—go up and smooth your hair. I will tell him that you +are coming to him. He will wait. But he is so much in earnest +now,—and so sad,—that I know he will not come again."</p> + +<p>Then Mary went up-stairs, determined to think of it. She began at +once, woman-like, to smooth her hair as her stepmother had +recommended, and to remove the dust of the road from her face and +dress. But not the less was she thinking of it the while. Could she +do it, how much pain would be spared even to herself! How much that +was now bitter as gall in her mouth would become,—not sweet,—but +tasteless. There are times in one's life in which the absence of all +savour seems to be sufficient for life in this world. Were she to do +this thing she thought that she would have strength to banish that +other man from her mind,—and at last from her heart. He would be +there, close to her, but of a different kind and leading a different +life. Mrs. Masters had told her that Larry would be as good a squire +as the best of them; but it should be her care to keep him and +herself in their proper position, to teach him the vanity of such +aspirations. And the real squire opposite, who would despise +her,—for had he not told her that she would be despicable if she +married this man,—would not trouble her then. They might meet on the +roads, and there would be a cold question or two as to each other's +welfare, and a vain shaking of hands,—but they would know nothing +and care for nothing as to each other's thoughts. And there would +come some stately dame who hearing how things had been many years +ago, would <span class="nowrap">perhaps—.</span> But +no;—the stately dame should be received +with courtesy, but there should be no patronising. Even in these few +minutes up-stairs she thought much of the stately dame and was quite +sure that she would endure no patronage from Bragton.</p> + +<p>She almost thought that she could do it. There were hideous ideas +afflicting her soul dreadfully, but which she strove to banish. Of +course she could not love him,—not at first. But all those who +wished her to marry him, including himself, knew that;—and still +they wished her to marry him. How could that be disgraceful which all +her friends desired? Her father, to whom she was, as she knew well, +the very apple of his eye, wished her to marry this man;—and yet her +father knew that her heart was elsewhere. Had not women done it by +hundreds, by thousands, and had afterwards performed their duties +well as mothers and wives. In other countries, as she had read, girls +took the husbands found for them by their parents as a matter of +course. As she left the room, and slowly crept down-stairs, she +almost thought she would do it. She almost thought;—but yet, when +her hand was on the lock, she could not bring herself to say that it +should be so.</p> + +<p>He was not dressed as usual. In the first place, there was a round +hat on the table, such as men wear in cities. She had never before +seen such a hat with him except on a Sunday. And he wore a black +cloth coat, and dark brown pantaloons, and a black silk handkerchief. +She observed it all, and thought that he had not changed for the +better. As she looked into his face, it seemed to her more +common,—meaner than before. No doubt he was good-looking,—but his +good-looks were almost repulsive to her. He had altogether lost his +little swagger;—but he had borne that little swagger well, and in +her presence it had never been offensive. Now he seemed as though he +had thrown aside all the old habits of his life, and was pining to +death from the loss of them. "Mary," he said, "I have come to +you,—for the last time. I thought I would give myself one more +chance, and your father told me that I might have it." He paused, as +though expecting an answer. But she had not yet quite made up her +mind. Had she known her mind, she would have answered him frankly. +She was quite resolved as to that. If she could once bring herself to +give him her hand, she would not coy it for a moment. "I will be your +wife, Larry." That was the form on which she had determined, should +she find herself able to yield. But she had not brought herself to it +as yet. "If you can take me, Mary, you will,—well,—save me from +lifelong misery, and make the man who loves you the best-contented +and the happiest man in England."</p> + +<p>"But, Larry, I do not love you."</p> + +<p>"I will make you love me. Good usage will make a wife love her +husband. Don't you think you can trust me?"</p> + +<p>"I do believe that I can trust you for everything good."</p> + +<p>"Is that nothing?"</p> + +<p>"It is a great deal, Larry, but not enough;—not enough to bring +together a man and woman as husband and wife. I would sooner marry a +man I loved, though I knew he would ill-use me."</p> + +<p>"Would you?"</p> + +<p>"To marry either would be wrong."</p> + +<p>"I sometimes think, dearest, that if I could talk better I should be +better able to persuade you."</p> + +<p>"I sometimes think you talk so well that I ought to be +persuaded;—but I can't. It is not lack of talking."</p> + +<p>"What is it, then?"</p> + +<p>"Just this;—my heart does not turn itself that way. It is the same +chance that has made you—partial to me."</p> + +<p>"Partial! Why, I love the very air you breathe. When I am near you, +everything smells sweet. There isn't anything that belongs to you but +I think I should know it, though I found it a hundred miles away. To +have you in the room with me would be like heaven,—if I only knew +that you were thinking kindly of me."</p> + +<p>"I always think kindly of you, Larry."</p> + +<p>"Then say that you will be my wife." She paused, and became red up to +the roots of her hair. She seated herself on a chair, and then rose +again,—and again sat down. The struggle was going on within her, and +he perceived something of the truth. "Say the word once, Mary;—say +it but once." And as he prayed to her he came forward and went down +upon his knees.</p> + +<p>"I cannot do it," she replied at last, speaking very hoarsely, not +looking at him, not even addressing herself to him.</p> + +<p>"Mary!"</p> + +<p>"Larry, I cannot do it. I have tried, but I cannot do it. O Larry, +dear Larry, do not ask me again. Larry, I have no heart to give. +Another man has it all."</p> + +<p>"Is it so?" She bowed her head in token of assent. "Is it that young +parson?" exclaimed Larry, in anger.</p> + +<p>"It is not. But, Larry, you must ask no questions now. I have told +you my secret that all this might be set at rest. But if you are +generous, as I know you are, you will keep my secret, and will ask no +questions. And, Larry, if you are unhappy, so am I. If your heart is +sore, so is mine. He knows nothing of my love, and cares nothing for +me."</p> + +<p>"Then throw him aside."</p> + +<p>She smiled and shook her head. "Do you think I would not if I could? +Why do you not throw me aside?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mary!"</p> + +<p>"Cannot I love as well as you? You are a man, and have the liberty to +speak of it. Though I cannot return it, I can be proud of your love +and feel grateful to you. I cannot tell mine. I cannot think of it +without blushing. But I can feel it, and know it, and be as sure that +it has trodden me down and got the better of me as you can. But you +can go out into the world and teach yourself to forget."</p> + +<p>"I must go away from here then."</p> + +<p>"You have your business and your pleasures, your horses and your +fields and your friends. I have nothing,—but to remain here and know +that I have disobliged all those that love me. Do you think, Larry, I +would not go and be your wife if I could? I have told you all, Larry, +and now do not ask me again."</p> + +<p>"Is it so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—it is so."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall cut it all. I shall sell Chowton and go away. You tell +me I have my horses and my pleasures! What pleasures? I know nothing +of my horses,—not whether they are lame or sound. I could not tell +you of one of them whether he is fit to go to-morrow. Business! The +place may farm itself for me, for I can't stay there. Everything +sickens me to look at it. Pleasures indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Is that manly, Larry?"</p> + +<p>"How can a man be manly when the manliness is knocked out of him? A +man's courage lies in his heart;—but if his heart is broken where +will his courage be then? I couldn't hold my head up here any +more,—and I shall go."</p> + +<p>"You must not do that," she said, getting up and laying hold of his +arm.</p> + +<p>"But I must do it."</p> + +<p>"For my sake you must stay here, Larry;—so that I may not have to +think that I have injured you so deeply. Larry, though I cannot be +your wife I think I could die of sorrow if you were always unhappy. +What is a poor girl that you should grieve for her in that way? I +think if I were a man I would master my love better than that." He +shook his head and faintly strove to drag his arm from out of her +grasp. "Promise me that you will take a year to think of it before +you go."</p> + +<p>"Will you take a year to think of me?" said he, rising again to +sudden hope.</p> + +<p>"No, Larry, no. I should deceive you were I to say so. I deceived you +before when I put it off for two months. But you can promise me +without deceit. For my sake, Larry?" And she almost embraced him as +she begged for his promise. "I know you would wish to spare me pain. +Think what will be my sufferings if I hear that you have really gone +from Chowton. You will promise me, Larry?"</p> + +<p>"Promise what?"</p> + +<p>"That the farm shall not be sold for twelve months."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes;—I'll promise. I don't care for the farm."</p> + +<p>"And stay there if you can. Don't leave the place to strangers. And +go about your business,—and hunt,—and be a man. I shall always be +thinking of what you do. I shall always watch you. I shall always +love you,—always,—always,—always. I always have loved +you;—because you are so good. But it is a different love. And now, +Larry, good-bye." So saying, she raised her face to look into his +eyes. Then he suddenly put his arm round her waist, kissed her +forehead, and left the room without another word.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters saw him as he went, and must have known from his gait +what was the nature of the answer he had received. But yet she went +quickly upstairs to inquire. The matter was one of too much +consequence for a mere inference. Mary had gone from the +sitting-room, but her stepmother followed her upstairs to her +bed-chamber. "Mamma," she said, "I couldn't do it;—I couldn't do it. +I did try. Pray do not scold me. I did try, but I could not do it." +Then she threw herself into the arms of the unsympathetic +woman,—who, however, was now somewhat less unsympathetic than she +had hitherto been.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters did not understand it at all; but she did perceive that +there was something which she did not understand. What did the girl +mean by saying that she had tried and could not do it? Try to do it! +If she tried why could she not tell the man that she would have him? +There was surely some shamefacedness in this, some overstrained +modesty which she, Mrs. Masters, could not comprehend. How could she +have tried to accept a man who was so anxious to marry her, and have +failed in the effort? "Scolding I suppose will be no good now," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh no!"</p> + +<p>"But—. Well; I suppose we must put up with it. Everything on earth +that a girl could possibly wish for! He was that in love that it's my +belief he'd have settled it all on you if you'd only asked him."</p> + +<p>"Let it go, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Let it go! It's gone I suppose. Well;—I ain't going to say any more +about it. But as for not sorrowing, how is a woman not to sorrow when +so much has been lost? It's your poor father I'm thinking of, Mary." +This was so much better than she had expected that poor Mary almost +felt that her heart was lightened.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-6" id="c3-6"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> +<h3>AGAIN AT MISTLETOE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The reader will have been aware that Arabella Trefoil was not a +favourite at Mistletoe. She was so much disliked by the Duchess that +there had almost been words about her between her Grace and the Duke +since her departure. The Duchess always submitted, and it was the +rule of her life to submit with so good a grace that her husband, +never fearing rebellion, should never be driven to assume the tyrant. +But on this occasion the Duke had objected to the term "thoroughly +bad girl" which had been applied by his wife to his niece. He had +said that "thoroughly bad girl" was strong language, and when the +Duchess defended the phrase he had expressed his opinion that +Arabella was only a bad girl and not a thoroughly bad girl. The +Duchess had said that it was the same thing. "Then," said the Duke, +"why use a redundant expletive against your own relative?" The +Duchess, when she was accused of strong language, had not minded it +much; but her feelings were hurt when a redundant expletive was +attributed to her. The effect of all this had been that the Duke in a +mild way had taken up Arabella's part, and that the Duchess, +following her husband at last, had been brought round to own that +Arabella, though bad, had been badly treated. She had disbelieved, +and then believed, and had again disbelieved Arabella's own statement +as to the offer of marriage. But the girl had certainly been in +earnest when she had begged her aunt to ask her uncle to speak to +Lord Rufford. Surely when she did she must have thought that an offer +had been made to her. Such offer, if made, had no doubt been produced +by very hard pressure;—but still an offer of marriage is an offer, +and a girl, if she can obtain it, has a right to use such an offer as +so much property. Then came Lord Mistletoe's report after his meeting +with Arabella up in London. He had been unable to give his cousin any +satisfaction, but he was clearly of opinion that she had been +ill-used. He did not venture to suggest any steps, but did think that +Lord Rufford was bound as a gentleman to marry the young lady. After +that Lord Augustus saw her mother up in town and said that it was a +<span class="nowrap">d——</span> shame. +He in truth had believed nothing and would have been +delighted to allow the matter to drop. But as this was not permitted, +he thought it easier to take his daughter's part than to encounter +family enmity by entering the lists against her. So it came to pass +that down at Mistletoe there grew an opinion that Lord Rufford ought +to marry Arabella Trefoil.</p> + +<p>But what should be done? The Duke was alive to the feeling that as +the girl was certainly his niece and as she was not to be regarded as +a thoroughly bad girl, some assistance was due to her from the +family. Lord Mistletoe volunteered to write to Lord Rufford; Lord +Augustus thought that his brother should have a personal interview +with his young brother peer and bring his strawberry leaves to bear. +The Duke himself suggested that the Duchess should see Lady +Penwether,—a scheme to which her Grace objected strongly, knowing +something of Lady Penwether and being sure that her strawberry leaves +would have no effect whatever on the baronet's wife. At last it was +decided that a family meeting should be held, and Lord Augustus was +absolutely summoned to meet Lord Mistletoe at the paternal mansion.</p> + +<p>It was now some years since Lord Augustus had been at Mistletoe. As +he had never been separated,—that is formally separated,—from his +wife he and she had been always invited there together. Year after +year she had accepted the invitation,—and it had been declined on +his behalf, because it did not suit him and his wife to meet each +other. But now he was obliged to go there,—just at the time of the +year when whist at his club was most attractive. To meet the +convenience of Lord Mistletoe,—and the House of Commons—a Saturday +afternoon was named for the conference, which made it worse for Lord +Augustus as he was one of a little party which had private gatherings +for whist on Sunday afternoons. But he went to the conference, +travelling down by the same train with his nephew; but not in the +same compartment, as he solaced with tobacco the time which Lord +Mistletoe devoted to parliamentary erudition.</p> + +<p>The four met in her Grace's boudoir, and the Duke began by declaring +that all this was very sad. Lord Augustus shook his head and put his +hands in his trousers pockets,—which was as much as to say that his +feelings as a British parent were almost too strong for him. "Your +mother and I think, that something ought to be done," said the Duke +turning to his son.</p> + +<p>"Something ought to be done," said Lord Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"They won't let a fellow go out with a fellow now," said Lord +Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid!" said the Duchess, raising both her hands.</p> + +<p>"I was thinking, Mistletoe, that your mother might have met Lady +Penwether."</p> + +<p>"What could I do with Lady Penwether, Duke? Or what could she do with +him? A man won't care for what his sister says to him. And I don't +suppose she'd undertake to speak to Lord Rufford on the subject."</p> + +<p>"Lady Penwether is an honourable and an accomplished woman."</p> + +<p>"I dare say;—though she gives herself abominable airs."</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you don't like it, my dear, it shan't be pressed."</p> + +<p>"I thought, perhaps, you'd see him yourself," said Lord Augustus, +turning to his brother. "You'd carry more weight than anybody."</p> + +<p>"Of course I will if it be necessary; but it would be +disagreeable,—very disagreeable. The appeal should be made to his +feelings, and that I think would better come through female +influence. As far as I know the world a man is always more prone to +be led in such matters by a woman than by another man."</p> + +<p>"If you mean me," said the Duchess, "I don't think I could see him. +Of course, Augustus, I don't wish to say anything hard of Arabella. +The fact that we have all met here to take her part will prove that, +I think. But I didn't quite approve of all that was done here."</p> + +<p>Lord Augustus stroked his beard and looked out of the window. "I +don't think, my dear, we need go into that just now," said the Duke.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the Duchess, "and I don't intend to say a word. +Only if I were to meet Lord Rufford he might refer to things +which,—which,—<span class="nowrap">which—.</span> In +point of fact I had rather not."</p> + +<p>"I might see him," suggested Lord Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"No doubt that might be done with advantage," said the Duke.</p> + +<p>"Only that, as he is my senior in age, what I might say to him would +lack that weight which any observations which might be made on such a +matter should carry with them."</p> + +<p>"He didn't care a straw for me," said Lord Augustus.</p> + +<p>"And then," continued Lord Mistletoe, "I so completely agree with +what my father says as to the advantage of female influence! With a +man of Lord Rufford's temperament female influence is everything. If +my aunt were to try it?" Lord Augustus blew the breath out of his +mouth and raised his eyebrows. Knowing what he did of his wife, or +thinking that he knew what he did, he did not conceive it possible +that a worse messenger should be chosen. He had known himself to be a +very bad one, but he did honestly believe her to be even less fitted +for the task than he himself. But he said nothing,—simply wishing +that he had not left his whist for such a purpose as this.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Lady Augustus had better see him," said the Duke. The +Duchess, who did not love hypocrisy, would not actually assent to +this, but she said nothing. "I suppose my sister-in-law would not +object, Augustus?"</p> + +<p>"G—— Almighty only knows," said the younger brother. The Duchess, +grievously offended by the impropriety of this language, drew herself +up haughtily.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you would not mind suggesting it to her, sir," said Lord +Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"I could do that by letter," said the Duke.</p> + +<p>"And when she has assented, as of course she will, then perhaps you +wouldn't mind writing a line to him to make an appointment. If you +were to do so he could not refuse." To this proposition the Duke +returned no immediate answer; but looked at it round and round +carefully. At last, however, he acceded to this also, and so the +matter was arranged. All these influential members of the ducal +family met together at the ducal mansion on Arabella's behalf, and +settled their difficulty by deputing the work of bearding the lion, +of tying the bell on the cat, to an absent lady whom they all +despised and disliked.</p> + +<p>That afternoon the Duke, with the assistance of his son, who was a +great writer of letters, prepared an epistle to his sister-in-law and +another to Lord Rufford, which was to be sent as soon as Lady Augusta +had agreed to the arrangement. In the former letter a good deal was +said as to a mother's solicitude for her daughter. It had been felt, +the letter said, that no one could speak for a daughter so well as a +mother;—that no other's words would so surely reach the heart of a +man who was not all evil but who was tempted by the surroundings of +the world to do evil in this particular case. The letter began "My +dear sister-in-law," and ended "Your affectionate brother-in-law, +Mayfair," and was in fact the first letter that the Duke had ever +written to his brother's wife. The other letter was more difficult, +but it was accomplished at last, and confined itself to a request +that Lord Rufford would meet Lady Augustus Trefoil at a place and at +a time, both of which were for the present left blank.</p> + +<p>On the Monday Lord Augustus and Lord Mistletoe were driven to the +station in the same carriage, and on this occasion the uncle said a +few strong words to his nephew on the subject. Lord Augustus, though +perhaps a coward in the presence of his brother, was not so with +other members of the family. "It may be very well you know, but it's +all <span class="nowrap">d——</span> nonsense."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry that you should think so, uncle."</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose her mother can do?—a thoroughly vulgar woman. I +never could live with her. As far as I can see wherever she goes +everybody hates her."</p> + +<p>"My dear uncle!"</p> + +<p>"Rufford will only laugh at her. If Mayfair would have gone himself, +it is just possible that he might have done something."</p> + +<p>"My father is so unwilling to mix himself up in these things."</p> + +<p>"Of course he is. Everybody knows that. What the deuce was the good +then of our going down there? I couldn't do anything, and I knew he +wouldn't. The truth is, Mistletoe, a man now-a-days may do just what +he pleases. You ain't in that line and it won't do you any good +knowing it, but since we did away with pistols everybody may do just +what he likes."</p> + +<p>"I don't like brute force," said Lord Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"You may call it what you please:—but I don't know that it was so +brutal after all." At the station they separated again, as Lord +Augustus was panting for tobacco and Lord Mistletoe for parliamentary +erudition.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-7" id="c3-7"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> +<h3>THE SUCCESS OF LADY AUGUSTUS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Augustus was still staying with the Connop Greens in Hampshire +when she received the Duke's letter and Arabella was with her. The +story of Lord Rufford's infidelity had been told to Mrs. Connop +Green,—and, of course through her to Mr. Connop Green. Both the +mother and daughter affected to despise the Connop Greens;—but it is +so hard to restrain oneself from confidences when difficulties arise! +Arabella had by this time quite persuaded herself that there had been +an absolute engagement, and did in truth believe that she had been +most cruelly ill-used. She was headstrong, fickle, and beyond measure +insolent to her mother. She had, as we know, at one time gone down to +the house of her former lover, thereby indicating that she had +abandoned all hope of catching Lord Rufford. But still the Connop +Greens either felt or pretended to feel great sympathy with her, and +she would still declare from time to time that Lord Rufford had not +heard the last of her. It was now more than a month since she had +seen that perjured lord at Mistletoe, and more than a week since her +father had brought him so uselessly up to London. Though determined +that Lord Rufford should hear more of her, she hardly knew how to go +to work, and on these days spent most of her time in idle +denunciations of her false lover. Then came her uncle's letter, which +was of course shown to her.</p> + +<p>She was quite of opinion that they must do as the Duke directed. It +was so great a thing to have the Duke interesting himself in the +matter, that she would have assented to anything proposed by him. The +suggestion even inspired some temporary respect, or at any rate +observance, towards her mother. Hitherto her mother had been nobody +to her in the matter, a person belonging to her whom she had to +regard simply as a burden. She could not at all understand how the +Duke had been guided in making such a choice of a new emissary;—but +there it was under his own hand, and she must now in some measure +submit herself to her mother unless she were prepared to repudiate +altogether the Duke's assistance. As to Lady Augustus herself, the +suggestion gave to her quite a new life. She had no clear conception +what she should say to Lord Rufford if the meeting were arranged, but +it was gratifying to her to find herself brought back into authority +over her daughter. She read the Duke's letter to Mrs. Connop Green, +with certain very slight additions,—or innuendos as to +additions,—and was pleased to find that the letter was taken by Mrs. +Connop Green as positive proof of the existence of the engagement. +She wrote begging the Duke to allow her to have the meeting at the +family house in Piccadilly, and to this prayer the Duke was obliged +to assent. "It would," she said, "give her so much assistance in +speaking to Lord Rufford!" She named a day also, and then spent her +time in preparing herself for the interview by counsel with Mrs. +Green and by exacting explanations from her daughter.</p> + +<p>This was a very bad time for Arabella,—so bad, that had she known to +what she would be driven, she would probably have repudiated the Duke +and her mother altogether. "Now, my dear," she began, "you must tell +me everything that occurred first at Rufford, and then at Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"You know very well what occurred, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it, and unless everything is told me I will not +undertake this mission. Your uncle evidently thinks that by my +interference the thing may be arranged. I have had the same idea all +through myself, but as you have been so obstinate I have not liked to +say so. Now, Arabella, begin from the beginning. When was it that he +first suggested to you the idea of marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, mamma!"</p> + +<p>"I must have it from the beginning to the end. Did he speak of +marriage at Rufford? I suppose he did because you told me that you +were engaged to him when you went to Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"So I was."</p> + +<p>"What had he said?"</p> + +<p>"What nonsense! How am I to remember what he said? As if a girl ever +knows what a man says to her."</p> + +<p>"Did he kiss you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"At Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot stand this, mamma. If you like to go you may go. My uncle +seems to think it is the best thing, and so I suppose it ought to be +done. But I won't answer such questions as you are asking for Lord +Rufford and all that he possesses."</p> + +<p>"What am I to say then? How am I to call back to his recollection the +fact that he committed himself, unless you will tell me how and when +he did so?"</p> + +<p>"Ask him if he did not assure me of his love when we were in the +carriage together."</p> + +<p>"What carriage?"</p> + +<p>"Coming home from hunting."</p> + +<p>"Was that at Mistletoe or Rufford?"</p> + +<p>"At Mistletoe, mamma," replied Arabella, stamping her foot.</p> + +<p>"But you must let me know how it was that you became engaged to him +at Rufford."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you mean to drive me mad," exclaimed Arabella as she bounced +out of the room.</p> + +<p>There was very much more of this, till at last Arabella found herself +compelled to invent facts. Lord Rufford, she said, had assured her of +his everlasting affection in the little room at Rufford, and had +absolutely asked her to be his wife coming home in the carriage with +her to Stamford. She told herself that though this was not strictly +true, it was as good as true,—as that which was actually done and +said by Lord Rufford on those occasions could have had no other +meaning. But before her mother had completed her investigation, +Arabella had become so sick of the matter that she shut herself up in +her room and declared that nothing on earth should induce her to open +her mouth on the subject again.</p> + +<p>When Lord Rufford received the letter he was aghast with new disgust. +He had begun to flatter himself that his interview with Lord Augustus +would be the end of the affair. Looking at it by degrees with +coolness he had allowed himself to think that nothing very terrible +could be done to him. Some few people, particularly interested in the +Mistletoe family, might give him a cold shoulder, or perhaps cut him +directly; but such people would not belong to his own peculiar +circle, and the annoyance would not be great. But if all the family, +one after another, were to demand interviews with him up in London, +he did not see when the end of it would be. There would be the Duke +himself, and the Duchess, and Mistletoe. And the affair would in this +way become gossip for the whole town. He was almost minded to write +to the Duke saying that such an interview could do no good; but at +last he thought it best to submit the matter to his mentor, Sir +George Penwether. Sir George was clearly of opinion that it was Lord +Rufford's duty to see Lady Augustus. "Yes, you must have interviews +with all of them, if they ask it," said Sir George. "You must show +that you are not afraid to hear what her friends have got to say. +When a man gets wrong he can't put himself right without some little +annoyance."</p> + +<p>"Since the world began," said Lord Rufford, "I don't think that there +was ever a man born so well adapted for preaching sermons as you +are." Nevertheless he did as he was bid, and consented to meet Lady +Augustus in Piccadilly on the day named by her. On that very day the +hounds met at Impington and Lord Rufford began to feel his +punishment. He assented to the proposal made and went up to London, +leaving the members of the U. R. U. to have the run of the season +from the Impington coverts.</p> + +<p>When Lady Augustus was sitting in the back room of the mansion +waiting for Lord Rufford she was very much puzzled to think what she +would say to him when he came. With all her investigation she had +received no clear idea of the circumstances as they occurred. That +her daughter had told her a fib in saying that she was engaged when +she went to Mistletoe, she was all but certain. That something had +occurred in the carriage which might be taken for an offer she +thought possible. She therefore determined to harp upon the carriage +as much as possible and to say as little as might be as to the doings +at Rufford. Then as she was trying to arrange her countenance and her +dress and her voice, so that they might tell on his feelings, Lord +Rufford was announced. "Lady Augustus," said he at once, beginning +the lesson which he had taught himself, "I hope I see you quite well. +I have come here because you have asked me, but I really don't know +that I have anything to say."</p> + +<p>"Lord Rufford, you must hear me."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; I will hear you certainly, only this kind of thing is so +painful to all parties, and I don't see the use of it."</p> + +<p>"Are you aware that you have plunged me and my daughter into a state +of misery too deep to be fathomed?"</p> + +<p>"I should be sorry to think that."</p> + +<p>"How can it be otherwise? When you assure a girl in her position in +life that you love her—a lady whose rank is quite as high as your +<span class="nowrap">own—"</span></p> + +<p>"Quite so,—quite so."</p> + +<p>"And when in return for that assurance you have received vows of love +from her,—what is she to think, and what are her friends to think?" +Lord Rufford had always kept in his mind a clear remembrance of the +transaction in the carriage, and was well aware that the young lady's +mother had inverted the circumstances, or, as he expressed it to +himself, had put the cart before the horse. He had assured the young +lady that he loved her, and he had also been assured of her love; but +her assurance had come first. He felt that this made all the +difference in the world; so much difference that no one cognisant in +such matters would hold that his assurance, obtained after such a +fashion, meant anything at all. But how was he to explain this to the +lady's mother? "You will admit that such assurances were given?" +continued Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I don't know. There was a little foolish talk, but it +meant nothing."</p> + +<p>"My lord!"</p> + +<p>"What am I to say? I don't want to give offence, and I am heartily +sorry that you and your daughter should be under any misapprehension. +But as I sit here there was no engagement between us;—nor, if I must +speak out, Lady Augustus, could your daughter have thought that there +was an engagement."</p> + +<p>"Did you not—embrace her?"</p> + +<p>"I did. That's the truth."</p> + +<p>"And after that you mean to say—"</p> + +<p>"After that I mean to say that nothing more was intended." There was +a certain meanness of appearance about the mother which emboldened +him.</p> + +<p>"What a declaration to make to the mother of a young lady, and that +young lady the niece of the Duke of Mayfair!"</p> + +<p>"It's not the first time such a thing has been done, Lady Augustus."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about that,—nothing. I don't know whom you may have +lived with. It never was done to her before."</p> + +<p>"If I understand right she was engaged to marry Mr. Morton when she +came to Rufford."</p> + +<p>"It was all at an end before that."</p> + +<p>"At any rate you both came from his house."</p> + +<p>"Where he had been staying with Mrs. Morton."</p> + +<p>"And where she has been since,—without Mrs. Morton."</p> + +<p>"Lady Ushant was there, Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"But she has been staying at the house of this gentleman to whom you +admit that she was engaged a short time before she came to us."</p> + +<p>"He is on his death-bed, and he thought that he had behaved badly to +her. She did go to Bragton the other day, at his request,—merely +that she might say that she forgave him."</p> + +<p>"I only hope that she will forgive me too. There is really nothing +else to be said. If there were anything I could do to atone to her +for this—trouble."</p> + +<p>"If you only could know the brightness of the hopes you have +shattered,—and the purity of that girl's affection for yourself!"</p> + +<p>It was then that an idea—a low-minded idea occurred to Lord Rufford. +While all this was going on he had of course made various inquiries +about this branch of the Trefoil family and had learned that Arabella +was altogether portionless. He was told too that Lady Augustus was +much harassed by impecuniosity. Might it be possible to offer a +recompense? "If I could do anything else, Lady Augustus;—but really +I am not a marrying man." Then Lady Augustus wept bitterly; but while +she was weeping, a low-minded idea occurred to her also. It was clear +to her that there could be no marriage. She had never expected that +there would be a marriage. But if this man who was rolling in wealth +should offer some sum of money to her daughter,—something so +considerable as to divest the transaction of the meanness which would +be attached to a small bribe,—something which might be really useful +throughout life, would it not be her duty, on behalf of her dear +child, to accept such an offer? But the beginnings of such dealings +are always difficult. "Couldn't my lawyer see yours, Lady Augustus?" +said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"I don't want the family lawyer to know anything about it," said Lady +Augustus. Then there was silence between them for a few moments. "You +don't know what we have to bear, Lord Rufford. My husband has spent +all my fortune,—which was considerable; and the Duke does nothing +for us." Then he took a bit of paper and, writing on it the figures +"£6,000," pushed it across the table. She gazed at the scrap for a +minute, and then, borrowing his pencil without a word, scratched out +his Lordship's figures and wrote "£8,000," beneath them; and then +added, "No one to know it." After that he held the scrap for two or +three minutes in his hands, and then wrote beneath the figures, "Very +well. To be settled on your daughter. No one shall know it." She +bowed her head, but kept the scrap of paper in her possession. "Shall +I ring for your carriage?" he asked. The bell was rung, and Lady +Augustus was taken back to the lodgings in Orchard Street in the +hired brougham. As she went she told herself that if everything else +failed, £400 a year would support her daughter, or that in the event +of any further matrimonial attempt such a fortune would be a great +assistance. She had been sure that there could be no marriage, and +was disposed to think that she had done a good morning's work on +behalf of her unnatural child.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-8" id="c3-8"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> +<h3>"WE SHALL KILL EACH OTHER."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Augustus as she was driven back to Orchard Street and as she +remained alone during the rest of that day and the next in London, +became a little afraid of what she had done. She began to think how +she should communicate her tidings to her daughter, and thinking of +it grew to be nervous and ill at ease. How would it be with her +should Arabella still cling to the hope of marrying the lord? That +any such hope would be altogether illusory Lady Augustus was now +sure. She had been quite certain that there was no ground for such +hope when she had spoken to the man of her own poverty. She was +almost certain that there had never been an offer of marriage made. +In the first place Lord Rufford's word went further with her than +Arabella's,—and then his story had been consistent and probable, +whereas hers had been inconsistent and improbable. At any rate ropes +and horses would not bring Lord Rufford to the hymeneal altar. That +being so was it not natural that she should then have considered what +result would be next best to a marriage? She was very poor, having +saved only some few hundreds a year from the wreck of her own +fortune. Independently of her her daughter had nothing. And in spite +of this poverty Arabella was very extravagant, running up bills for +finery without remorse wherever credit could be found, and excusing +herself by saying that on this or that occasion such expenditure was +justified by the matrimonial prospects which it opened out to her. +And now, of late, Arabella had been talking of living separately from +her mother. Lady Augustus, who was thoroughly tired of her daughter's +company, was not at all averse to such a scheme;—but any such scheme +was impracticable without money. By a happy accident the money would +now be forthcoming. There would be £400 a year for ever and nobody +would know whence it came. She was confident that they might trust to +the lord's honour for secrecy. As far as her own opinion went the +result of the transaction would be most happy. But still she feared +Arabella. She felt that she would not know how to tell her story when +she got back to Marygold Place. "My dear, he won't marry you; but he +is to give you £8,000." That was what she would have to say, but she +doubted her own courage to put her story into words so curt and +explanatory. Even at thirty £400 a year has not the charms which +accompany it to eyes which have seen sixty years. She remained in +town that night and the next day, and went down by train to +Basingstoke on the following morning with her heart not altogether +free from trepidation.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford, the very moment that the interview was over, started +off to his lawyer. Considering how very little had been given to him +the sum he was to pay was prodigious. In his desire to get rid of the +bore of these appeals, he had allowed himself to be foolishly +generous. He certainly never would kiss a young lady in a carriage +again,—nor even lend a horse to a young lady till he was better +acquainted with her ambition and character. But the word had gone +from him and he must be as good as his word. The girl must have her +£8,000 and must have it instantly. He would put the matter into such +a position that if any more interviews were suggested, he might with +perfect safety refer the suggester back to Miss Trefoil. There was to +be secrecy, and he would be secret as the grave. But in such matters +one's lawyer is the grave. He had proposed that two lawyers should +arrange it. Objection had been made to this, because Lady Augustus +had no lawyer ready;—but on his side some one must be employed. So +he went to his own solicitor and begged that the thing might be done +quite at once. He was very definite in his instructions, and would +listen to no doubts. Would the lawyer write to Miss Trefoil on that +very day;—or rather not on that very day but the next. As he +suggested this he thought it well that Lady Augustus should have an +opportunity of explaining the transaction to her daughter before the +lawyer's letter should be received. He had, he said, his own reason +for such haste. Consequently the lawyer did prepare the letter to +Miss Trefoil at once, drafting it in his noble client's presence. In +what way should the money be disposed so as best to suit her +convenience? The letter was very short with an intimation that Lady +Augustus would no doubt have explained the details of the +arrangement.</p> + +<p>When Lady Augustus reached Marygold the family were at lunch, and as +strangers were present nothing was said as to the great mission. The +mother had already bethought herself how she must tell this and that +lie to the Connop Greens, explaining that Lord Rufford had confessed +his iniquity but had disclosed that, for certain mysterious reasons, +he could not marry Arabella,—though he loved her better than all the +world. Arabella asked some questions about her mother's shopping and +general business in town, and did not leave the room till she could +do so without the slightest appearance of anxiety. Mrs. Connop Green +marvelled at her coolness knowing how much must depend on the answer +which her mother had brought back from London, and knowing nothing of +the contents of the letter which Arabella had received that morning +from the lawyer. In a moment or two Lady Augustus followed her +daughter upstairs, and on going into her own room found the damsel +standing in the middle of it with an open paper in her hand. "Mamma," +she said, "shut the door." Then the door was closed. "What is the +meaning of this?" and she held out the lawyer's letter.</p> + +<p>"The meaning of what?" said Lady Augustus, trembling.</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt you know, but you had better read it."</p> + +<p>Lady Augustus read the letter and attempted to smile. "He has been +very quick," she said. "I thought I should have been the first to +tell you."</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of it? Why is the man to give me all that +money?"</p> + +<p>"Is it not a good escape from so great a trouble? Think what £8,000 +will do. It will enable you to live in comfort wherever you may +please to go."</p> + +<p>"I am to understand then you have sold me,—sold all my hopes and my +very name and character, for £8,000!"</p> + +<p>"Your name and character will not be touched, my dear. As for his +marrying you I soon found that that was absolutely out of the +question."</p> + +<p>"This is what has come of sending you to see him! Of course I shall +tell my uncle everything."</p> + +<p>"You will do no such thing. Arabella, do not make a fool of yourself. +Do you know what £8,000 will do for you? It is to be your +own,—absolutely beyond my reach or your father's."</p> + +<p>"I would sooner go into the Thames off Waterloo Bridge than touch a +farthing of his money," said Arabella with a spirit which the other +woman did not at all understand. Hitherto in all these little dirty +ways they had run with equal steps. The pretences, the subterfuges, +the lies of the one had always been open to the other. Arabella, +earnest in supplying herself with gloves from the pockets of her male +acquaintances, had endured her mother's tricks with complacency. She +had condescended when living in humble lodgings to date her letters +from a well-known hotel, and had not feared to declare that she had +done so in their family conversations. Together they had fished in +turbid waters for marital nibbles and had told mutual falsehoods to +unbelieving tradesmen. And yet the younger woman, when tempted with a +bribe worth lies and tricks as deep and as black as Acheron, now +stood on her dignity and her purity and stamped her foot with honest +indignation!</p> + +<p>"I don't think you can understand it," said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"I can understand this,—that you have betrayed me; and that I shall +tell him so in the plainest words that I can use. To get his lawyer +to write and offer me money!"</p> + +<p>"He should not have gone to his lawyer. I do think he was wrong +there."</p> + +<p>"But you settled it with him;—you, my mother;—a price at which he +should buy himself off! Would he have offered me money if he did not +know that he had bound himself to me?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing on earth would make him marry you. I would not for a moment +have allowed him to allude to money if that had not been quite +certain."</p> + +<p>"Who proposed the money first?"</p> + +<p>Lady Augustus considered a moment before she answered. "Upon my word, +my dear, I can't say. He wrote the figures on a bit of paper; that +was the way." Then she produced the scrap. "He wrote the figures +first,—and then I altered them, just as you see. The proposition +came first from him, of course."</p> + +<p>"And you did not spit at him!" said Arabella as she tore the scrap +into fragments.</p> + +<p>"Arabella," said the mother, "it is clear that you do not look into +the future. How do you mean to live? You are getting old."</p> + +<p>"Old!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my love,—old. Of course I am willing to do everything for you, +as I always have done,—for so many years, but there isn't a man in +London who does not know how long you have been about it."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, mamma," said Arabella jumping up.</p> + +<p>"That is all very well, but the truth has to be spoken. You and I +cannot go on as we have been doing."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I would sooner be in a workhouse."</p> + +<p>"And here there is provided for you an income on which you can live. +Not a soul will know anything about it. Even your own father need not +be told. As for the lawyer, that is nothing. They never talk of +things. It would make a man comparatively poor quite a fit match. Or, +if you do not marry, it would enable you to live where you pleased +independently of me. You had better think twice of it before you +refuse it."</p> + +<p>"I will not think of it at all. As sure as I am living here I will +write to Rufford this very evening and tell him in what light I +regard both him and you."</p> + +<p>"And what will you do then?"</p> + +<p>"Hang myself."</p> + +<p>"That is all very well, Arabella, but hanging yourself and jumping +off Waterloo Bridge do not mean anything. You must live, and you must +pay your debts. I can't pay them for you. You go into your own room, +and think of it all, and be thankful for what Providence has sent +you."</p> + +<p>"You may as well understand that I am in earnest," the daughter said +as she left the room. "I shall write to Lord Rufford to-day and tell +him what I think of him and his money. You need not trouble yourself +as to what shall be done with it, for I certainly shall not take it."</p> + +<p>And she did write to Lord Rufford as follows:<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My Lord</span>,</p> + +<p>I have been much astonished by a letter I have received +from a gentleman in London, Mr. Shaw, who I presume is +your lawyer. When I received it I had not as yet seen +mamma. I now understand that you and she between you have +determined that I should be compensated by a sum of money +for the injury you have done me! I scorn your money. I +cannot think where you found the audacity to make such a +proposal, or how you have taught yourself to imagine that +I should listen to it. As to mamma, she was not +commissioned to act for me, and I have nothing to do with +anything she may have said. I can hardly believe that she +should have agreed to such a proposal. It was very little +like a gentleman in you to offer it.</p> + +<p>Why did you offer it? You would not have proposed to give +me a large sum of money like that without some reason. I +have been shocked to hear that you have denied that you +ever engaged yourself to me. You know that you were +engaged to me. It would have been more honest and more +manly if you had declared at once that you repented of +your engagement. But the truth is that till I see you +myself and hear what you have to say out of your own mouth +I cannot believe what other people tell me. I must ask you +to name some place where we can meet. As for this offer of +money, it goes for nothing. You must have known that I +would not take it.</p> + +<p class="ind12"><span class="smallcaps">Arabella</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>It was now just the end of February, and the visit of the Trefoil +ladies to the Connop Greens had to come to an end. They had already +overstaid the time at first arranged, and Lady Augustus, when she +hinted that another week at Marygold,—"just till this painful affair +was finally settled,"—would be beneficial to her, was informed that +the Connop Greens themselves were about to leave home. Lady Augustus +had reported to Mrs. Connop Green that Lord Rufford was behaving very +badly, but that the matter was still in a "transition state." Mrs. +Connop Green was very sorry, <span class="nowrap">but—.</span> So +Lady Augustus and Arabella +betook themselves to Orchard Street, being at that moment unable to +enter in upon better quarters.</p> + +<p>What a home it was,—and what a journey up to town! Arabella had told +her mother that the letter to Lord Rufford had been written and +posted, and since that hardly a word had passed between them. When +they left Marygold in the Connop Green carriage they smiled, and +shook hands, and kissed their friends in unison, and then sank back +into silence. At the station they walked up and down the platform +together for the sake of appearance, but did not speak. In the train +there were others with them and they both feigned to be asleep. Then +they were driven to their lodgings in a cab, still speechless. It was +the mother who first saw that the horror of this if continued would +be too great to be endured. "Arabella," she said in a hoarse voice, +"why don't you speak?"</p> + +<p>"Because I've got nothing to say."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense. There is always something to say."</p> + +<p>"You have ruined me, mamma; just ruined me."</p> + +<p>"I did for you the very best I could. If you would have been advised +by me, instead of being ruined, you would have had a handsome +fortune. I have slaved for you for the last twelve years. No mother +ever sacrificed herself for her child more than I have done for you, +and now see the return I get. I sometimes think that it will kill +me."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense."</p> + +<p>"Everything I say is nonsense,—while you tell me one day that you +are going to hang yourself, and another day that you will drown +yourself."</p> + +<p>"So I would if I dared. What is it that you have brought me to? Who +will have me in their houses when they hear that you consented to +take Lord Rufford's money?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody will hear it unless you tell them."</p> + +<p>"I shall tell my uncle and my aunt and Mistletoe, in order that they +may know how it is that Lord Rufford has been allowed to escape. I +say that you have ruined me. If it had not been for your vulgar +bargain with him, he must have been brought to keep his word at last. +Oh, that he should have ever thought it was possible that I was to be +bought off for a sum of money!"</p> + +<p>Later on in the evening, the mother again implored her daughter to +speak to her. "What's the use, mamma, when you know what we think of +each other? What's the good of pretending? There is nobody here to +hear us." Later on still she herself began. "I don't know how much +you've got, mamma; but whatever it is, we'd better divide it. After +what you did in Piccadilly we shall never get on together again."</p> + +<p>"There is not enough to divide," said Lady Augustus.</p> + +<p>"If I had not you to go about with me I could get taken in pretty +nearly all the year round."</p> + +<p>"Who'd take you?"</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me. I would manage it, and you could join with some +other old person. We shall kill each other if we stay like this," +said Arabella as she took up her candle.</p> + +<p>"You have pretty nearly killed me as it is," said the old woman as +the other shut the door.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-9" id="c3-9"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> +<h3>CHANGES AT BRAGTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Day after day old Mrs. Morton urged her purpose with her grandson at +Bragton, not quite directly as she had done at first, but by gradual +approaches and little soft attempts made in the midst of all the +tenderness which, as a nurse, she was able to display. It soon came +to pass that the intruders were banished from the house, or almost +banished. Mary's daily visits were discontinued immediately after +that last walk home with Reginald Morton which has been described. +Twice in the course of the next week she went over, but on both +occasions she did so early in the day, and returned alone just as he +was reaching the house. And then, before a week was over, early in +March, Lady Ushant told the invalid that she would be better away. +"Mrs. Morton doesn't like me," she said, "and I had better go. But I +shall stay for a while at Hoppet Hall, and come in and see you from +time to time till you get better." John Morton replied that he should +never get better; but though he said so then, there was at times +evidence that he did not yet quite despond as to himself. He could +still talk to Mrs. Morton of buying Chowton Farm, and was very +anxious that he should not be forgotten at the Foreign Office.</p> + +<p>Lady Ushant had herself driven to Hoppet Hall, and there took up her +residence with her nephew. Every other day Mr. Runciman's fly came +for her and carried her backwards and forwards to Bragton. On those +occasions she would remain an hour with the invalid, and then would +go back again, never even seeing Mrs. Morton, though always seen by +her. And twice after this banishment Reginald walked over. But on the +second occasion there was a scene. Mrs. Morton to whom he had never +spoken since he was a boy, met him in the hall and told him that his +visits only disturbed his sick cousin. "I certainly will not disturb +him," Reginald had said. "In the condition in which he is now he +should not see many people," rejoined the lady. "If you will ask Dr. +Fanning he will tell you the same." Dr. Fanning was the London doctor +who came down once a week, whom it was improbable that Reginald +should have an opportunity of consulting. But he remembered or +thought that he remembered, that his cousin had been fretful and +ill-pleased during his last visit, and so turned himself round and +went home without another word.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid there may be—I don't know what," said Lady Ushant to +him in a whisper the next morning.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I mean. Perhaps I ought not to say a word. Only so +much does depend on it!"</p> + +<p>"If you are thinking about the property, aunt, wipe it out of your +mind. Let him do what he pleases and don't think about it. No one +should trouble their minds about such things. It is his, to do what +he pleases with it."</p> + +<p>"It is not him that I fear, Reginald."</p> + +<p>"If he chooses to be guided by her, who shall say that he is wrong? +Get it out of your mind. The very thinking about such things is +dirtiness!" The poor old lady submitted to the rebuke and did not +dare to say another word.</p> + +<p>Daily Lady Ushant would send over for Mary Masters, thinking it cruel +that her young friend should leave her alone and yet understanding in +part the reason why Mary did not come to her constantly at Hoppet +Hall. Poor Mary was troubled much by these messages. Of course she +went now and again. She had no alternative but to go, and yet, +feeling that the house was his house, she was most unwilling to enter +it. Then grew within her a feeling, which she could not analyse, that +he had ill-used her. Of course she was not entitled to his love. She +would acknowledge to herself over and over again that he had never +spoken a word to her which could justify her in expecting his love. +But why had he not let her alone? Why had he striven by his words and +his society to make her other than she would have been had she been +left to the atmosphere of her stepmother's home? Why had he spoken so +strongly to her as to that young man's love? And then she was almost +angry with him because, by a turn in the wheel of fortune, he was +about to become, as she thought, Squire of Bragton. Had he remained +simply Mr. Morton of Hoppet Hall it would still have been impossible. +But this exaltation of her idol altogether out of her reach was an +added injustice. She could remember, not the person, but all the +recent memories of the old Squire, the veneration with which he was +named, the masterdom which was attributed to him, the unequalled +nobility of his position in regard to Dillsborough. His successor +would be to her as some one crowned, and removed by his crown +altogether from her world. Then she pictured to herself the stately +dame who would certainly come, and she made fresh resolutions with a +sore heart.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you should be so very little with me," said Lady +Ushant, almost whining. "When I was at Cheltenham you wanted to come +to me."</p> + +<p>"There are so many things to be done at home."</p> + +<p>"And yet you would have come to Cheltenham."</p> + +<p>"We were in great trouble then, Lady Ushant. Of course I would like +to be with you. You ought not to scold me, because you know how I +love you."</p> + +<p>"Has the young man gone away altogether now, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Altogether."</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Masters is satisfied?"</p> + +<p>"She knows it can never be, and therefore she is quiet about it."</p> + +<p>"I was sorry for that young man, because he was so true."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't be more sorry than I was, Lady Ushant. I love him as +though he were a brother. +<span class="nowrap">But—"</span></p> + +<p>"Mary, dear Mary, I fear you are in trouble."</p> + +<p>"I think it is all trouble," said Mary, rushing forward and hiding +her face in her old friend's lap as she knelt on the ground before +her. Lady Ushant longed to ask a question, but she did not dare. And +Mary Masters longed to have one friend to whom she could confide her +secret,—but neither did she dare.</p> + +<p>On the next day, very early in the morning, there came a note from +Mrs. Morton to Mr. Masters, the attorney. Could Mr. Masters come out +on that day to Bragton and see Mrs. Morton. The note was very +particular in saying that Mrs. Morton was to be the person seen. The +messenger who waited for an answer, brought back word that Mr. +Masters would be there at noon. The circumstance was one which +agitated him considerably, as he had not been inside the house at +Bragton since the days immediately following the death of the old +Squire. As it happened, Lady Ushant was going to Bragton on the same +day, and at the suggestion of Mr. Runciman, whose horses in the +hunting season barely sufficed for his trade, the old lady and the +lawyer went together. Not a word was said between them as to the +cause which took either of them on their journey, but they spoke much +of the days in which they had known each other, when the old Squire +was alive, and Mr. Masters thanked Lady Ushant for her kindness to +his daughter. "I love her almost as though she were my own," said +Lady Ushant. "When I am dead she will have half of what I have got."</p> + +<p>"She will have no right to expect that," said the gratified father.</p> + +<p>"She will have half or the whole,—just as Reginald may be situated +then. I don't know why I shouldn't tell her father what it is I mean +to do." The attorney knew to a shilling the amount of Lady Ushant's +income and thought that this was the best news he had heard for many +a day.</p> + +<p>While Lady Ushant was in the sick man's room, Mrs. Morton was +closeted with the attorney. She had thought much of this step before +she had dared to take it and even now doubted whether it would avail +her anything. As she entered the book-room in which Mr. Masters was +seated she almost repented. But the man was there and she was +compelled to go on with her scheme. "Mr. Masters," she said, "it is I +think a long time since you have been employed by this family."</p> + +<p>"A very long time, Madam."</p> + +<p>"And I have now sent for you under circumstances of great +difficulty," she answered; but as he said nothing she was forced to +go on. "My grandson made his will the other day up in London, when he +thought that he was going out to Patagonia." Mr. Masters bowed. "It +was done when he was in sound health, and he is now not satisfied +with it." Then there was another bow, but not a word was spoken. "Of +course you know that he is very ill."</p> + +<p>"We have all been very much grieved to hear it."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you would be, for the sake of old days. When Dr. Fanning +was last here he thought that my grandson was something better. He +held out stronger hopes than before. But still he is very ill. His +mind has never wavered for a moment, Mr. Masters." Again Mr. Masters +bowed. "And now he thinks that some changes should be made;—indeed +that there should be a new will."</p> + +<p>"Does he wish me to see him, Mrs. Morton?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-day, I think. He is not quite prepared to-day. But I wanted +to ask whether you could come at a moment's notice,—quite at a +moment's notice. I thought it better, so that you should know why we +sent for you if we did send,—so that you might be prepared. It could +be done here, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"It would be possible, Mrs. Morton."</p> + +<p>"And you could do it?"</p> + +<p>Then there was a long pause. "Altering a will is a very serious +thing, Mrs. Morton. And when it is done on what perhaps may be a +death-bed, it is a very serious thing indeed. Mr. Morton, I believe, +employs a London solicitor. I know the firm and more respectable +gentlemen do not exist. A telegram would bring down one of the firm +from London by the next train."</p> + +<p>A frown, a very heavy frown, came across the old woman's brow. She +would have repressed it had it been possible;—but she could not +command herself, and the frown was there. "If that had been +practicable, Mr. Masters," she said, "we should not have sent for +you."</p> + +<p>"I was only suggesting, madame, what might be the best course."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And of course I am much obliged. But if we are driven to +call upon you for your assistance, we shall find it?"</p> + +<p>"Madame," said the attorney very slowly, "it is of course part of my +business to make wills, and when called upon to do so, I perform my +business to the best of my ability. But in altering a will during +illness great care is necessary. A codicil might be +<span class="nowrap">added—"</span></p> + +<p>"A new will would be necessary."</p> + +<p>A new will, thought the attorney, could only be necessary for +altering the disposition of the whole estate. He knew enough of the +family circumstances to be aware that the property should go to +Reginald Morton whether with or without a will,—and also enough to +be aware that this old lady was Reginald's bitter enemy. He did not +think that he could bring himself to take instructions from a dying +man,—from the Squire of Bragton on his death-bed,—for an instrument +which should alienate the property from the proper heir. He too had +his strong feelings, perhaps his prejudices, about Bragton. "I would +wish that the task were in other hands, Mrs. Morton."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"It is hard to measure the capacity of an invalid."</p> + +<p>"His mind is as clear as yours."</p> + +<p>"It might be so,—and yet I might not be able to satisfy myself that +it was so. I should have to ask long and tedious questions, which +would be offensive. And I should find myself giving advice,—which +would not be called for. For instance, were your grandson to wish to +leave this estate away from the +<span class="nowrap">heir—"</span></p> + +<p>"I am not discussing his wishes, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Morton, for making the suggestion;—but as I +said before, I should prefer that he should employ—some one else."</p> + +<p>"You refuse then?"</p> + +<p>"If Mr. Morton were to send for me, I should go to him instantly. But +I fear I might be slow in taking his instructions;—and it is +possible that I might refuse to act on them." Then she got up from +her chair and bowing to him with stately displeasure left the room.</p> + +<p>All this she had done without any authority from her grandson, simply +encouraged in her object by his saying in his weakness that he would +think of her proposition. So intent was she on her business that she +was resolved to have everything ready if only he could once be +brought to say that Peter Morton should be his heir. Having abandoned +all hopes for her noble cousin she could tell her conscience that she +was instigated simply by an idea of justice. Peter Morton was at any +rate the legitimate son of a well-born father and a well-born mother. +What had she or any one belonging to her to gain by it? But forty +years since a brat had been born at Bragton in opposition to her +wishes,—by whose means she had been expelled from the place; and now +it seemed to her to be simple justice that he should on this account +be robbed of that which would otherwise be naturally his own. As Mr. +Masters would not serve her turn she must write to the London +lawyers. The thing would be more difficult; but, nevertheless, if the +sick man could once be got to say that Peter should be his heir she +thought that she could keep him to his word. Lady Ushant and Mr. +Masters went back to Dillsborough in Runciman's fly, and it need +hardly be said that the attorney said nothing of the business which +had taken him to Bragton.</p> + +<p>This happened on a Wednesday,—Wednesday the 3rd of March. On Friday +morning, at 4 o'clock, during the darkness of the night, John Morton +was lying dead on his bed, and the old woman was at his bedside. She +had done her duty by him as far as she knew how in tending him,—had +been assiduous with the diligence of much younger years; but now as +she sat there, having had the fact absolutely announced to her by Dr. +Nupper, her greatest agony arose from the feeling that the roof which +covered her, probably the chair in which she sat, were the property +of Reginald Morton—"Bastard!" she said to herself between her teeth; +but she so said it that neither Dr. Nupper, who was in the room, nor +the woman who was with her should hear it.</p> + +<p>Dr. Nupper took the news into Dillsborough, and as the folk sat down +to breakfast they all heard that the Squire of Bragton was dead. The +man had been too little known, had been too short a time in the +neighbourhood, to give occasion for tears. There was certainly more +of interest than of grief in the matter. Mr. Masters said to himself +that the time had been too short for any change in the will, and +therefore felt tolerably certain that Reginald would be the heir. But +for some days this opinion was not general in Dillsborough. Mr. +Mainwaring had heard that Reginald had been sent away from Bragton +with a flea in his ear, and was pretty certain that when the will was +read it would be found that the property was to go to Mrs. Morton's +friends. Dr. Nupper was of the same opinion. There were many in +Dillsborough with whom Reginald was not popular;—and who thought +that some man of a different kind would do better as Squire of +Bragton. "He don't know a fox when he sees 'un," said Tony Tuppett to +Larry Twentyman, whom he had come across the county to call upon and +to console.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-10" id="c3-10"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> +<h3>THE WILL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On that Saturday the club met at Dillsborough,—even though the +Squire of Bragton had died on Friday morning. Through the whole of +that Saturday the town had been much exercised in its belief and +expressions, as to the disposition of the property. The town knew +very well that Mr. Masters, the attorney, had been sent for to +Bragton on the previous Wednesday,—whence the deduction as to a new +will, made of course under the auspices of Mrs. Morton,—would have +been quite plain to the town, had not a portion of the town heard +that the attorney had not been for a moment with the dying man during +his visit. This latter piece of information had come through Lady +Ushant, who had been in her nephew's bedroom the whole time;—but +Lady Ushant had not much personal communication with the town +generally, and would probably have said nothing on this subject had +not Mr. Runciman walked up to Hoppet Hall behind the fly, after Mr. +Masters had left it; and, while helping her ladyship out, made +inquiry as to the condition of things at Bragton generally. "I was +sorry to hear of their sending for any lawyer," said Mr. Runciman. +Then Lady Ushant protested that the lawyer had not been sent for by +her nephew, and that her nephew had not even seen him. "Oh, indeed," +said Mr. Runciman, who immediately took a walk round his own paddock +with the object of putting two and two together. Mr. Runciman was a +discreet man, and did not allow this piece of information to spread +itself generally. He told Dr. Nupper, and Mr. Hampton, and Lord +Rufford,—for the hounds went out on Friday, though the Squire of +Bragton was lying dead;—but he did not tell Mr. Mainwaring, whom he +encountered in the street of the town as he was coming home early, +and who was very keen to learn whatever news there was.</p> + +<p>Reginald Morton on Friday did not go near Bragton. That of course was +palpable to all, and was a great sign that he himself did not regard +himself as the heir. He had for awhile been very intimate at the +house, visiting it daily—and during a part of that time the +grandmother had been altogether absent. Then she had come back, and +he had discontinued his visits. And now he did not even go over to +seal up the drawers and to make arrangements as to the funeral. He +did not at any rate go on the Friday,—nor on the Saturday. And on +the Saturday Mr. Wobytrade, the undertaker, had received orders from +Mrs. Morton to go at once to Bragton. All this was felt to be strong +against Reginald. But when it was discovered that on the Saturday +afternoon Mrs. Morton herself had gone up to London, not waiting even +for the coming of any one else to take possession of the house,—and +that she had again carried all her own personal luggage with +her,—then opinion in Dillsborough again veered. Upon the whole the +betting was a point or two in favour of Reginald, when the club met.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters, who had been much quelled of late, had been urgent with +her husband to go over to the Bush; but he was unwilling, he said, to +be making jolly while the Squire of Bragton was lying unburied. "He +was nothing to you, Gregory," said his wife, who had in vain +endeavoured to learn from him why he had been summoned to +Bragton—"You will hear something over there, and it will relieve +your spirits." So instigated he did go across, and found all the +accustomed members of the club congregated in the room. Even Larry +Twentyman was present, who of late had kept himself aloof from all +such meetings. Both the Botseys were there, and Nupper and Harry +Stubbings, and Ribbs the butcher. Runciman himself of course was in +the room, and he had introduced on this occasion Captain Glomax, the +master of the hunt, who was staying at his house that night,—perhaps +with a view to hunting duties on the Monday, perhaps in order that he +might hear something as to the Bragton property. It had already been +suggested to him that he might possibly hire the house for a year or +two at little more than a nominal rent, that the old kennels might be +resuscitated, and that such arrangements would be in all respects +convenient. He was the master of the hunt, and of course there was no +difficulty as to introducing him to the club.</p> + +<p>Captain Glomax was speaking in a somewhat dictatorial voice,—as +becomes a Master of Hounds when in the field, though perhaps it +should be dropped afterwards—when the Attorney entered. There was a +sudden rise of voices striving to interrupt the Captain, as it was +felt by them all that Mr. Masters must be in possession of +information; but the Captain himself went on. "Of course it is the +place for the hounds. Nobody can doubt that who knows the country and +understands the working of it. The hunt ought to have subscribed and +hired the kennels and stables permanently."</p> + +<p>"There would have wanted two to that bargain, Captain," said Mr. +Runciman.</p> + +<p>"Of course there would, but what would you think of a man who would +refuse such a proposition when he didn't want the place himself? Do +you think if I'd been there foxes would have been poisoned in +Dillsborough wood? I'd have had that fellow Goarly under my thumb."</p> + +<p>"Then you'd have had an awful blackguard under your thumb, Captain +Glomax," said Larry, who could not restrain his wrath when Goarly's +name was mentioned.</p> + +<p>"What does that matter, if you get foxes?" continued the Master. "But +the fact is, gentlemen in a county like this always want to have +everything done for them, and never to do anything for themselves. +I'm sick of it, I know. Nobody is fonder of hunting a country than I +am, and I think I know what I'm about."</p> + +<p>"That you do," said Fred Botsey, who, like most men, was always ready +to flatter the Master.</p> + +<p>"And I don't care how hard I work. From the first of August till the +end of May I never have a day to myself, what with cubbing and then +the season, and entering the young hounds, and buying and selling +horses, by George I'm at it the whole year!"</p> + +<p>"A Master of Hounds looks for that, Captain," said the innkeeper.</p> + +<p>"Looks for it! Yes; he must look for it. But I wouldn't mind that, if +I could get gentlemen to pull a little with me. I can't stand being +out of pocket as I have been, and so I must let them know. If the +country would get the kennels and the stables, and lay out a few +pounds so that horses and hounds and men could go into them, I +wouldn't mind having a shot for the house. It's killing work where I +am now, the other side of Rufford, you may say." Then he +stopped;—but no one would undertake to answer him. The meaning of it +was that Captain Glomax wanted £500 a year more than he received, and +every one there knew that there was not £500 a year more to be got +out of the country,—unless Lord Rufford would put his hand into his +pocket. Now the present stables and the present kennels had been +"made comfortable" by Lord Rufford, and it was not thought probable +that he would pay for the move to Bragton.</p> + +<p>"When's the funeral to be, Mr. Masters?" asked Runciman,—who knew +very well the day fixed, but who thought it well to get back to the +subject of real interest in the town.</p> + +<p>"Next Thursday, I'm told."</p> + +<p>"There's no hurry with weather like this," said Nupper +professionally.</p> + +<p>"They can't open the will till the late squire is buried," continued +the innkeeper, "and there will be one or two very anxious to know +what is in it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it will all go to the man who lives up here at Hoppet +Hall," said the Captain,—"a man that was never outside a horse in +his life!"</p> + +<p>"He's not a bad fellow," said Runciman.</p> + +<p>"He is a very good fellow," said the Attorney, "and I trust he may +have the property. If it be left away from him, I for one shall think +that a great injustice has been done." This was listened to with +attention, as every one there thought that Mr. Masters must know.</p> + +<p>"I can't understand," said Glomax, "how any man can be considered a +good fellow as a country gentleman who does not care for sport. Just +look at it all round. Suppose others were like him what would become +of us all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes indeed, what would become of us?" asked the two Botseys in a +breath.</p> + +<p>"Ho'd 'ire our 'orses, Runciman?" suggested Harry Stubbings with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Think what England would be!" said the Captain. "When I hear of a +country gentleman sticking to books and all that, I feel that the +glory is departing from the land. Where are the sinews of war to come +from? That's what I want to know."</p> + +<p>"Who will it be, Mr. Masters, if the gent don't get it?" asked Ribbs +from his corner on the sofa.</p> + +<p>This was felt to be a pushing question. "How am I to know, Mr. +Ribbs?" said the Attorney. "I didn't make the late squire's +will;—and if I did you don't suppose I should tell you."</p> + +<p>"I'm told that the next is Peter Morton," said Fred Botsey. "He's +something in a public office up in London."</p> + +<p>"It won't go to him," said Fred's brother. "That old lady has +relations of her own who have had their mouths open for the last +forty years."</p> + +<p>"Away from the Mortons altogether!" said Harry. "That would be an +awful shame!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see what good the Mortons have done this last half century," +said the Captain.</p> + +<p>"You don't remember the old squire, Captain," said the innkeeper, +"and I don't remember him well. Indeed I was only a little chap when +they buried him. But there's that feeling left behind him to this +day, that not a poor man in the country wouldn't be sorry to think +that there wasn't a Morton left among 'em. Of course a hunting +gentleman is a good thing."</p> + +<p>"About the best thing out," said the Captain.</p> + +<p>"But a hunting gentleman isn't everything. I know nothing of the old +lady's people,—only this that none of their money ever came into +Dillsborough. I'm all for Reginald Morton. He's my landlord as it is, +and he's a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"I hate foreigners coming," said Ribbs.</p> + +<p>"'E ain't too old to take it yet," said Harry. Fred Botsey declared +that he didn't believe in men hunting unless they began young. +Whereupon Dr. Nupper declared that he had never ridden over a fence +till he was forty-five, and that he was ready now to ride Fred across +country for a new hat. Larry suggested that a man might be a good +friend to sport though he didn't ride much himself;—and Runciman +again asserted that hunting wasn't everything. Upon the whole +Reginald was the favourite. But the occasion was so special that a +little supper was ordered, and I fear the attorney did not get home +till after twelve.</p> + +<p>Till the news reached Hoppet Hall that Mrs. Morton had taken herself +off to London, there was great doubt there as to what ought to be +done, and even then the difficulty was not altogether over. Till she +was gone neither Lady Ushant nor her nephew would go there, and he +could only declare his purpose of attending the funeral whether he +were asked or not. When his aunt again spoke of the will he desired +her with much emphasis not to allude to the subject. "If the property +is to come to me," he said, "anything of good that may be in it +cannot be much sweeter by anticipation. And if it is not I shall only +encourage disappointment by thinking of it."</p> + +<p>"But it would be such a shame."</p> + +<p>"That I deny altogether. It was his own to do as he liked with it. +Had he married I should not have expected it because I am the heir. +But, if you please, aunt, do not say a word more about it."</p> + +<p>On the Sunday morning he heard that Mrs. Morton was gone to London, +and then he walked over to Bragton. He found that she had locked and +sealed up everything with so much precision that she must have worked +hard at the task from the hour of his death almost to that of her +departure. "She never rested herself all day," said Mrs. Hopkins, +"till I thought she would sink from very weariness." She had gone +into every room and opened every drawer, and had had every piece of +plate through her fingers, and then Mrs. Hopkins told him that just +as she was departing she had said that the keys would be given to the +lawyer. After that he wandered about the place, thinking what his +life would be should he find himself the owner of Bragton. At this +moment he almost felt that he disliked the place, though there had +been times in which he had thought that he loved it too well. Of one +thing he was conscious,—that if Bragton should become his, it would +be his duty to live there. He must move his books, and pipes, and +other household gods from Hoppet Hall and become an English Squire. +Would it be too late for him to learn to ride to hounds? Would it be +possible that he should ever succeed in shooting a pheasant, if he +were to study the art patiently? Could he interest himself as to the +prevalence or decadence of ground game? And what must he do with his +neighbours? Of course he would have to entertain Mr. Mainwaring and +the other parsons, and perhaps once in the year to ask Lord Rufford +to dine with him. If Lord Rufford came, what on earth would he say to +him?</p> + +<p>And then there arose another question. Would it not be his duty to +marry,—and, if so, whom? He had been distinctly told that Mary +Masters had given her heart to some one, and he certainly was not the +man to ask for the hand of a girl who had not a heart to give. And +yet he thought that it would be impossible that he should marry any +other person. He spent hours in walking about the grounds, looking at +the garden and belongings which would so probably be his own within a +week, and thinking whether it would be possible that he should bring +a mistress to preside over them. Before he reached home he had made +up his mind that only one mistress would be possible, and that she +was beyond his reach.</p> + +<p>On the Tuesday he received a scrawl from Mrs. Hopkins with a letter +from the lawyer—addressed to her. The lawyer wrote to say that he +would be down on Wednesday evening, would attend the funeral, and +read his client's will after they had performed the ceremony. He went +on to add that in obedience to Mrs. Morton's directions he had +invited Mr. Peter Morton to be present on the occasion. On the +Wednesday Reginald again went over, but left before the arrival of +the two gentlemen. On the Thursday he was there early, and of course +took upon himself the duty of chief mourner. Peter Morton was there +and showed, in a bewildered way, that he had been summoned rather to +the opening of the will than to the funeral of a man he had never +seen.</p> + +<p>Then the will was read. There were only two names mentioned in it. +John Morton left £5,000 and his watch and chain and rings to Arabella +Trefoil, and everything else of which he was possessed to his cousin +Reginald Morton.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I don't know why they sent for me," said the other +cousin, Peter.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Morton seemed to think that you would like to pay a tribute of +respect," said the lawyer. Peter looked at him and went upstairs and +packed his portmanteau. The lawyer handed over the keys to the new +squire, and then everything was done.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-11" id="c3-11"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> +<h3>THE NEW MINISTER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Poor old Paragon!" exclaimed Archibald Currie, as he stood with his +back to the fire among his colleagues at the Foreign Office on the +day after John Morton's death.</p> + +<p>"Poor young Paragon! that's the pity of it," said Mounser Green. "I +don't suppose he was turned thirty, and he was a useful man,—a very +useful man. That's the worst of it. He was just one of those men that +the country can't afford to lose, and whom it is so very hard to +replace." Mounser Green was always eloquent as to the needs of the +public service, and did really in his heart of hearts care about his +office. "Who is to go to Patagonia, I'm sure I don't know. Platitude +was asking me about it, and I told him that I couldn't name a man."</p> + +<p>"Old Platitude always thinks that the world is coming to an end," +said Currie. "There are as good fish in the sea as ever were caught."</p> + +<p>"Who is there? Monsoon won't go, even if they ask him. The Paragon +was just the fellow for it. He had his heart in the work. An immense +deal depends on what sort of man we have in Patagonia at the present +moment. If Paraguay gets the better of the Patagonese all Brazil will +be in a ferment, and you know how that kind of thing spreads among +half-caste Spaniards and Portuguese. Nobody can interfere but the +British Minister. When I suggested Morton I knew I had the right man +if he'd only take it."</p> + +<p>"And now he has gone and died!" said Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"And now he has gone and died," continued Mounser Green. "'I never +nursed a dear gazelle,' and all the rest of it. Poor Paragon! I fear +he was a little cut about Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>"She was down with him the day before he died," said young Glossop. +"I happen to know that."</p> + +<p>"It was before he thought of going to Patagonia that she was at +Bragton," said Currie.</p> + +<p>"That's all you know about it, old fellow," said the indignant young +one. "She was there a second time, just before his death. I had it +from Lady Penwether who was in the neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>"My dear little boy," said Mounser Green, "that was exactly what was +likely to happen, and he yet may have broken his heart. I have seen a +good deal of the lady lately, and under no circumstances would she +have married him. When he accepted the mission that at any rate was +all over."</p> + +<p>"The Rufford affair had begun before that," said Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"The Rufford affair as you call it," said Glossop, "was no affair at +all."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" asked Currie.</p> + +<p>"I mean that Rufford was never engaged to her,—not for an instant," +said the lad, urgent in spreading the lesson which he had received +from his cousin. "It was all a dead take-in."</p> + +<p>"Who was taken in?" asked Mounser Green.</p> + +<p>"Well;—nobody was taken in as it happened. But I suppose there can't +be a doubt that she tried her best to catch him, and that the Duke +and Duchess and Mistletoe, and old Trefoil, all backed her up. It was +a regular plant. The only thing is, it didn't come off."</p> + +<p>"Look here, young shaver;"—this was Mounser Green again;—"when you +speak of a young lady do you be a little more discreet."</p> + +<p>"But didn't she do it, Green?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than you or I can tell. If you want to know what I +think, I believe he paid her a great deal of attention and then +behaved very badly to her."</p> + +<p>"He didn't behave badly at all," said young Glossop.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, when you are as old as I am, you will have learned how +very hard it is to know everything. I only say what I believe, and +perhaps I may have better ground for believing than you. He certainly +paid her a great deal of attention, and then her friends,—especially +the Duchess,—went to work."</p> + +<p>"They've wanted to get her off their hands these six or eight years," +said Currie.</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense again," continued the new advocate, "for there is no +doubt she might have married Morton all the time had she pleased."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—but Rufford!—a fellow with sixty thousand a year!" said +Glossop.</p> + +<p>"About a third of that would be nearer the mark, Glossy. Take my word +for it, you don't know everything yet, though you have so many +advantages." After that Mounser Green retreated to his own room with +a look and tone as though he were angry.</p> + +<p>"What makes him so ferocious about it?" asked Glossop when the door +was shut.</p> + +<p>"You are always putting your foot in it," said Currie. "I kept on +winking to you but it was no good. He sees her almost every day now. +She's staying with old Mrs. Green in Portugal Street. There has been +some break up between her and her mother, and old Mrs. Green has +taken her in. There's some sort of relationship. Mounser is the old +woman's nephew, and she is aunt by marriage to the Connop Greens down +in Hampshire, and Mrs. Connop Green is first cousin to Lady +Augustus."</p> + +<p>"If Dick's sister married Tom's brother what relation would Dick be +to Tom's mother? That's the kind of thing, isn't it?" suggested +Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"At any rate there she is, and Mounser sees her every day."</p> + +<p>"It don't make any difference about Rufford," said young Glossop +stoutly.</p> + +<p>All this happened before the will had been declared,—when Arabella +did not dream that she was an heiress. A day or two afterwards she +received a letter from the lawyer, telling her of her good fortune, +and informing her that the trinkets would be given up to her and the +money paid,—short of legacy duty,—whenever she would fix a time and +place. The news almost stunned her. There was a moment in which she +thought that she was bound to reject this money, as she had rejected +that tendered to her by the other man. Poor as she was, greedy as she +was, alive as she was to the necessity of doing something for +herself,—still this legacy was to her at first bitter rather than +sweet. She had never treated any man so ill as she had treated this +man;—and it was thus that he punished her! She was alive to the +feeling that he had always been true to her. In her intercourse with +other men there had been generally a battle carried on with some +fairness. Diamond had striven to cut diamond. But here the dishonesty +had all been on one side, and she was aware that it had been so. In +her later affair with Lord Rufford, she really did think that she had +been ill used; but she was quite alive to the fact that her treatment +of John Morton had been abominable. The one man, in order that he +might escape without further trouble, had in the grossest manner, +sent to her the offer of a bribe. The other,—in regard to whose end +her hard heart was touched, even her conscience seared,—had named +her in his will as though his affection was unimpaired. Of course she +took the money, but she took it with inward groans. She took the +money and the trinkets, and the matter was all arranged for her by +Mounser Green.</p> + +<p>"So after all the Paragon left her whatever he could leave," said +Currie in the same room at the Foreign Office. A week had passed +since the last conversation, and at this moment Mounser Green was not +in the room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear no," said young Glossy. "She doesn't have Bragton. That +goes to his cousin."</p> + +<p>"That was entailed, Glossy, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. Everybody thought he would leave the place to +another Morton, a fellow he'd never seen, in one of those Somerset +House Offices. He and this fellow who is to have it, were +enemies,—but he wouldn't put it out of the right line. It's all very +well for Mounser to be down on me, but I do happen to know what goes +on in that country. She gets a pot of money, and no end of family +jewels; but he didn't leave her the estate as he might have done."</p> + +<p>At that moment Mounser Green came into the room. It was rather later +than usual, being past one o'clock;—and he looked as though he were +flurried. He didn't speak for a few minutes, but stood before the +fire smoking a cigar. And there was a general silence,—there being +now a feeling among them that Arabella Trefoil was not to be talked +about in the old way before Mounser Green. At last he spoke himself. +"I suppose you haven't heard who is to go to Patagonia after all?"</p> + +<p>"Is it settled?" asked Currie.</p> + +<p>"Anybody we know?" asked Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"I hope it's no d—— outsider," said the too energetic Glossop.</p> + +<p>"It is settled;—and it is somebody you know;—and it is not a +<span class="nowrap">d——</span> +outsider; unless, indeed, he may be considered to be an outsider in +reference to that branch of the service."</p> + +<p>"It's some consul," said Currie. "Backstairs from Panama, I'll bet a +crown."</p> + +<p>"It isn't Backstairs, it isn't a consul. Gentlemen, get out your +pocket-handkerchiefs. Mounser Green has consented to be expatriated +for the good of his country."</p> + +<p>"You going to Patagonia!" said Currie. "You're chaffing," said +Glossop. "I never was so shot in my life," said Hoffmann.</p> + +<p>"It's true, my dear boys."</p> + +<p>"I never was so sorry for anything in all my born days," said +Glossop, almost crying. "Why on earth should you go to Patagonia?"</p> + +<p>"Patagonia!" ejaculated Currie. "What will you do in Patagonia?"</p> + +<p>"It's an opening, my dear fellow," said Mounser Green leaning +affectionately on Glossop's shoulder. "What should I do by remaining +here? When Drummond asked me I saw he wanted me to go. They don't +forget that kind of thing." At that moment a messenger opened the +door, and the Senator Gotobed, almost without being announced, +entered the room. He had become so intimate of late at the Foreign +Office, and his visits were so frequent, that he was almost able to +dispense with the assistance of any messenger. Perhaps Mounser Green +and his colleagues were a little tired of him;—but yet, after their +fashion, they were always civil to him, and remembered, as they were +bound to do, that he was one of the leading politicians of a great +nation. "I have secured the hall," he said at once, as though aware +that no news could be so important as the news he thus conveyed.</p> + +<p>"Have you indeed?" said Currie.</p> + +<p>"Secured it for the fifteenth. Now the question is—"</p> + +<p>"What do you think," said Glossop, interrupting him without the +slightest hesitation. "Mounser Green is going to Patagonia, in place +of the poor Paragon."</p> + +<p>"I beg to congratulate Mr. Green with all my heart."</p> + +<p>"By George I don't," said the juvenile clerk. "Fancy congratulating a +fellow on going to Patagonia! It's what I call an awful sell for +everybody."</p> + +<p>"But as I was saying I have the hall for the fifteenth."</p> + +<p>"You mean to lecture then after all," said Green.</p> + +<p>"Certainly I do; I am not going to be deterred from doing my duty +because I am told there is a little danger. What I want to know is +whether I can depend on having a staff of policemen."</p> + +<p>"Of course there will be police," said Green.</p> + +<p>"But I mean some extra strength. I don't mind for myself, but I +should be so unhappy if there were anything of a commotion." Then he +was assured that the officers of the police force would look to that, +and was assured also that Mounser Green and the other gentlemen in +the room would certainly attend the lecture. "I don't suppose I shall +be gone by that time," said Mounser Green in a melancholy tone of +voice.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-12" id="c3-12"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> +<h3>"I MUST GO."<br /> </h3> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Rufford, March 5th.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Miss Trefoil</span>,</p> + +<p>I am indeed sorry that I should have offended you by +acceding to a suggestion which, I think I may say, +originated with your mother. When she told me that her +circumstances and yours were not in a pecuniary point of +view so comfortable as they might be, I did feel that it +was in my power to alleviate that trouble. The sum of +money mentioned by my lawyer was certainly named by your +mother. At any rate pray believe that I meant to be of +service.</p> + +<p>As to naming a place where we might meet, it really could +be of no service. It would be painful to both of us and +could have no good result. Again apologizing for having +inadvertently offended you by adopting the views which +Lady Augustus entertained, I beg to assure you that I am,</p> + +<p class="ind12">Yours faithfully,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Rufford</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>This letter came from the peer himself, without assistance. After his +interview with Lady Augustus he simply told his Mentor, Sir George, +that he had steadfastly denied the existence of any engagement, not +daring to acquaint him with the offer he had made. Neither, +therefore, could he tell Sir George of the manner in which the young +lady had repudiated the offer. That she should have repudiated it was +no doubt to her credit. As he thought of it afterwards he felt that +had she accepted it she would have been base indeed. And yet, as he +thought of what had taken place at the house in Piccadilly, he was +confident that the proposition had in some way come from her mother. +No doubt he had first written a sum of money on the fragment of paper +which she had preserved;—and the evidence would so far go against +him. But Lady Augustus had spoken piteously of their joint +poverty,—and had done so in lieu of insisting with a mother's +indignation on her daughter's rights. Of course she had intended to +ask for money. What other purpose could she have had? It was so he +had argued at the moment, and so he had argued since. If it were so +he would not admit that he had behaved unlike a gentleman in offering +the money. Yet he did not dare to tell Sir George, and therefore was +obliged to answer Arabella's letter without assistance.</p> + +<p>He was not altogether sorry to have his £8000, being fully as much +alive to the value of money as any brother peer in the kingdom, but +he would sooner have paid the money than be subject to an additional +interview. He had been forced up to London to see first the father +and then the mother, and thought that he had paid penalty enough for +any offence that he might have committed. An additional interview +with the young lady herself would distress him beyond +anything,—would be worse than any other interview. He would sooner +leave Rufford and go abroad than encounter it. He promised himself +that nothing should induce him to encounter it. Therefore, he wrote +the above letter.</p> + +<p>Arabella, when she received it, had ceased to care very much about +the insult of the offer. She had then quarrelled with her mother, and +had insisted on some separation even without any arrangement as to +funds. Requiring some confidant, she had told a great deal, though +not quite all, to Mrs. Connop Green, and that lady had passed her on +for a while to her husband's aunt in London. At this time she had +heard nothing of John Morton's will, and had perhaps thought with +some tender regret of the munificence of her other lover, which she +had scorned. But she was still intent on doing something. The fury of +her despair was still on her, so that she could not weigh the injury +she might do herself against some possible gratification to her +wounded spirit. Up to this moment she had formed no future hope. At +this epoch she had no string to her bow. John Morton was dead;—and +she had absolutely wept for him in solitude, though she had certainly +never loved him. Nor did she love Lord Rufford. As far as she knew +how to define her feelings, she thought that she hated him. But she +told herself hourly that she had not done with him. She was +instigated by the true feminine Medea feeling that she would find +some way to wring his heart,—even though in the process she might +suffer twice as much as he did. She had convinced herself that in +this instance he was the offender. "Painful to both of us!" No doubt! +But because it would be painful to him, it should be exacted. Though +he was a coward and would fain shirk such pain, she could be brave +enough. Even though she should be driven to catch him by the arm in +the open street, she would have it out with him. He was a liar and a +coward, and she would, at any rate, have the satisfaction of telling +him so.</p> + +<p>She thought much about it before she could resolve on what she would +do. She could not ask old Mrs. Green to help her. Mrs. Green was a +kind old woman, who had lived much in the world, and would wish to +see much of it still, had age allowed her. Arabella Trefoil was at +any rate the niece of a Duke, and the Duke, in this affair with Lord +Rufford, had taken his niece's part. She opened her house and as much +of her heart as was left to Arabella, and was ready to mourn with her +over the wicked lord. She could sympathise with her too, as to the +iniquities of her mother, whom none of the Greens loved. But she +would have been frightened by any proposition as to Medean vengeance.</p> + +<p>In these days,—still winter days, and not open to much feminine +gaiety in London, even if, in the present constitution of her +circumstances, gaiety would have come in her way,—in these days the +hours in her life which interested her most, were those in which Mr. +Mounser Green was dutifully respectful to his aunt. Patagonia had not +yet presented itself to him. Some four or five hundred a year, which +the old lady had at her own disposal, had for years past contributed +to Mounser's ideas of duty. And now Arabella's presence at the small +house in Portugal Street certainly added a new zest to those ideas. +The niece of the Duke of Mayfair, and the rejected of Lord Rufford, +was at the present moment an interesting young woman in Mounser +Green's world. There were many who thought that she had been +ill-used. Had she succeeded, all the world would have pitied Lord +Rufford;—but as he had escaped, there was a strong party for the +lady. And gradually Mounser Green, who some weeks ago had not thought +very much of her, became one of the party. She had brought her maid +with her; and when she found that Mounser Green came to the house +every evening, either before or after dinner, she had recourse to her +accustomed lures. She would sit quiet, dejected, almost +broken-hearted in the corner of a sofa; but when he spoke to her she +would come to life and raise her eyes,—not ignoring the recognised +dejection of her jilted position, not pretending to this minor stag +of six tines that she was a sprightly unwooed young fawn, fresh out +of the forest,—almost asking him to weep with her, and playing her +accustomed lures, though in a part which she had not hitherto filled.</p> + +<p>But still she was resolved that her Jason should not as yet be quit +of his Medea. So she made her plot. She would herself go down to +Rufford and force her way into her late lover's presence in spite of +all obstacles. It was possible that she should do this and get back +to London the same day,—but, to do so, she must leave London by an +early train at 7 A.M., stay seven or eight hours at Rufford, and +reach the London station at 10 P.M. For such a journey there must be +some valid excuse made to Mrs. Green. There must be some necessity +shown for such a journey. She would declare that a meeting was +necessary with her mother, and that her mother was at any town she +chose to name at the requisite distance from London. In this way she +might start with her maid before daylight, and get back after dark, +and have the meeting with her mother—or with Lord Rufford as the +case might be. But Mounser Green knew very well that Lady Augustus +was in Orchard Street, and knew also that Arabella was determined not +to see her mother. And if she declared her purpose, without a caution +to Mounser Green, the old woman would tell her nephew, and the nephew +would unwittingly expose the deceit. It was necessary therefore that +she should admit Mounser Green to, at any rate, half a confidence. +This she did. "Don't ask me any questions," she said. "I know I can +trust you. I must be out of town the whole day, and perhaps the next. +And your aunt must not know why I am going or where. You will help +me?" Of course he said that he would help her; and the lie, with a +vast accompaniment of little lies, was told. There must be a meeting +on business matters between her and her mother, and her mother was +now in the neighbourhood of Birmingham. This was the lie told to Mrs. +Green. She would go down, and, if possible, be back on the same day. +She would take her maid with her. She thought that in such a matter +as that she could trust her maid, and was in truth afraid to travel +alone. "I will come in the morning and take Miss Trefoil to the +station," said Mounser, "and will meet her in the evening." And so +the matter was arranged.</p> + +<p>The journey was not without its drawbacks and almost its perils. +Summer or winter Arabella Trefoil was seldom out of bed before nine. +It was incumbent on her now to get up on a cold March morning,—when +the lion had not as yet made way for the lamb,—at half-past five. +That itself seemed to be all but impossible to her. Nevertheless she +was ready and had tried to swallow half a cup of tea, when Mounser +Green came to the door with a cab a little after six. She had +endeavoured to dispense with this new friend's attendance, but he had +insisted, assuring her that without some such aid no cab would be +forthcoming. She had not told him and did not intend that he should +know to what station she was going. "You begged me to ask no +questions," he said when he was in the cab with her, the maid having +been induced most unwillingly to seat herself with the cabman on the +box,—"and I have obeyed you. But I wish I knew how I could help +you."</p> + +<p>"You have helped me, and you are helping me. But do not ask anything +more."</p> + +<p>"Will you be angry with me if I say that I fear you are intending +something rash?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I am. How could it be otherwise with me? Don't you think +there are turns in a person's life when she must do something rash. +Think of yourself. If everybody crushed you; if you were ill-treated +beyond all belief; if the very people who ought to trust you doubted +you, wouldn't you turn upon somebody and rend him?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to rend anybody?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know as yet."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would let me go down with you."</p> + +<p>"No; that you certainly cannot. You must not come even into the +station with me. You have been very good to me. You will not now turn +against me."</p> + +<p>"I certainly will do nothing but what you tell me."</p> + +<p>"Then here we are,—and now you must go. Jane can carry my hand-bag +and cloak. If you choose to come in the evening at ten it will be an +additional favour."</p> + +<p>"I certainly will do so. But Miss Trefoil, one word." They were now +standing under cover of the portico in front of the railway station, +into which he was not to be allowed to enter. "What I fear is +this;—that in your first anger you may be tempted to do something +which may be injurious to—to your prospects in life."</p> + +<p>"I have no prospects in life, Mr. Green."</p> + +<p>"Ah;—that is just it. There are for most of us moments of +unhappiness in which we are tempted by our misery to think that we +are relieved at any rate from the burden of caution, because nothing +that can occur to us can make us worse than we are."</p> + +<p>"Nothing can make me worse than I am."</p> + +<p>"But in a few months or weeks," continued Mounser Green, bringing up +in his benevolence all the wisdom of his experience, "we have got a +new footing amidst our troubles, and then we may find how terrible is +the injury which our own indiscretion has brought on us. I do not +want to ask any questions, but—it might be so much better that you +should abandon your intention, and go back with me."</p> + +<p>She seemed to be almost undecided for a moment as she thought over +his words. But she remembered her pledge to herself that Lord Rufford +should find that she had not done with him yet. "I must go," she said +in a hoarse voice.</p> + +<p>"If you must—"</p> + +<p>"I must go. I have no way out of it. Good-bye, Mr. Green; I cannot +tell you how much obliged to you I am." Then he turned back and she +went into the station and took two first-class tickets for Rufford. +At that moment Lord Rufford was turning himself comfortably in his +bed. How would he have sprung up, and how would he have fled, had he +known the evil that was coming upon him! This happened on a Thursday, +a day on which, as Arabella knew, the U. R. U. did not go out;—the +very Thursday on which John Morton was buried and the will was read +at Bragton.</p> + +<p>She was fully determined to speak her mind to the man and to be +checked by no feminine squeamishness. She would speak her mind to him +if she could force her way into his presence. And in doing this she +would be debarred by no etiquette. It might be that she would fail, +that he would lack the courage to see her, and would run away, even +before all his servants, when he should hear who was standing in his +hall. But if he did so she would try again, even though she should +have to ride out into the hunting-field after him. Face to face she +would tell him that he was a liar and a slanderer and no gentleman, +though she should have to run round the world to catch him. When she +reached Rufford she went to the town and ordered breakfast and a +carriage. As soon as she had eaten the meal she desired the driver in +a clear voice to take her to Rufford Hall. Was her maid to go with +her? No. She would be back soon, and her maid would wait there till +she had returned.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-13" id="c3-13"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> +<h3>IN THE PARK.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>This thing that she was doing required an infinite amount of +pluck,—of that sort of hardihood which we may not quite call +courage, but which in a world well provided with policemen is +infinitely more useful than courage. Lord Rufford himself was endowed +with all the ordinary bravery of an Englishman, but he could have +flown as soon as run into a lion's den as Arabella was doing. She had +learned that Lady Penwether and Miss Penge were both at Rufford Hall, +and understood well the difficulty there would be in explaining her +conduct should she find herself in their presence. And there were all +the servants there to stare at her, and the probability that she +might be shown to the door and told that no one there would speak to +her. She saw it all before her, and knew how bitter it might be;—but +her heart was big enough to carry her through it. She was dressed +very simply, but still by no means dowdily, in a black silk dress, +and though she wore a thick veil when she got out of the fly and rang +the door bell, she had been at some pains with her hair before she +left the inn. Her purpose was revenge; but still she had an eye to +the possible chance,—the chance barely possible of bringing the man +to submit.</p> + +<p>When the door was opened she raised her veil and asked for Lord +Rufford;—but as she did so she walked on through the broad passage +which led from the front door into a wide central space which they +called the billiard-room but which really was the hall of the house. +This she did as a manifesto that she did not mean to leave the house +because she might be told that he was out or could not be seen, or +that he was engaged. It was then nearly one o'clock, and no doubt he +would be there for luncheon. Of course he might be in truth away from +home, but she must do her best to judge of that by the servant's +manner. The man knew her well, and not improbably had heard something +of his master's danger. He was, however, very respectful and told her +that his lordship was out in the grounds;—but that Lady Penwether +was in the drawing-room. Then a sudden thought struck her, and she +asked the man whether he would show her in what part of the grounds +she might find Lord Rufford. Upon that he took her to the front door +and pointing across the park to a belt of trees, showed her three or +four men standing round some piece of work. He believed, he said, +that one of those men was his lordship.</p> + +<p>She bowed her thanks and was descending the steps on her way to join +the group, when whom should she see but Lady Penwether coming into +the house with her garden-hat and gloves. It was unfortunate; but she +would not allow herself to be stopped by Lady Penwether. She bowed +stiffly and would have passed on without a word, but that was +impossible. "Miss Trefoil!" said Lady Penwether with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Your brother is just across the park. I think I see him and will go +to him."</p> + +<p>"I had better send and tell him that you are here," said her +ladyship.</p> + +<p>"I need not trouble you so far. I can be my own messenger. Perhaps +you will allow the fly to be sent round to the yard for +half-an-hour." As she said this she was still passing down the steps.</p> + +<p>But Lady Penwether knew that it behoved her to prevent this if it +might be possible. Of late she had had little or no conversation with +her brother about Miss Trefoil, but she had heard much from her +husband. She would be justified, she thought, in saying or in doing +almost anything which would save him from such an encounter. "I +really think," she said, "that he had better be told that you are +here," and as she spoke she strove to put herself in the visitor's +way. "You had better come in, Miss Trefoil, and he shall be informed +at once."</p> + +<p>"By no means, Lady Penwether. I would not for worlds give him or you +so much trouble. I see him and I will go to him." Then Lady Penwether +absolutely put out her hand to detain her; but Arabella shook it off +angrily and looked into the other woman's face with fierce eyes. +"Allow me," she said, "to conduct myself at this moment as I may +think best. I shall do so at any rate." Then she stalked on and Lady +Penwether saw that any contest was hopeless. Had she sent the servant +on with all his speed, so as to gain three or four moments, her +brother could hardly have fled through the trees in face of the +enemy.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford, who was busy planning the prolongation of a ha-ha +fence, saw nothing of all this; but, after a while he was aware that +a woman was coming to him, and then gradually he saw who that woman +was. Arabella when she had found herself advancing closer went slowly +enough. She was sure of her prey now, and was wisely mindful that it +might be well that she should husband her breath. The nearer she drew +to him the slower became her pace, and more majestic. Her veil was +well thrown back, and her head was raised in the air. She knew these +little tricks of deportment and could carry herself like a queen. He +had taken a moment or two to consider. Should he fly? It was +possible. He might vault over a railed fence in among the trees, at a +spot not ten yards from her, and then it would be impossible that she +should run him down. He might have done it had not the men been there +to see it. As it was he left them in the other direction and came +forward to meet her. He tried to smile pleasantly as he spoke to her. +"So I see that you would not take my advice," he said.</p> + +<p>"Neither your advice nor your money, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Ah,—I was so sorry about that! But, indeed, indeed,—the fault was +not mine."</p> + +<p>"They were your figures that I saw upon the paper, and by your +orders, no doubt, that the lawyer acted. But I have not come to say +much of that. You meant I suppose to be gracious."</p> + +<p>"I meant to be—goodnatured."</p> + +<p>"I daresay. You were willing enough to give away what you did not +want. But there must be more between us than any question of money. +Lord Rufford you have treated me most shamefully."</p> + +<p>"I hope not. I think not."</p> + +<p>"And you yourself must be well aware of it,—quite as well aware of +it as I am. You have thrown me over and absolutely destroyed me;—and +why?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Because you have been afraid of +others; because your sister has told you that you were mistaken in +your choice. The women around you have been too many for you, and +have not allowed you to dispose of your hand, and your name, and your +property as you pleased. I defy you to say that this was not your +sister's doing." He was too much astounded to contradict her rapidly, +and then she passed on, not choosing to give him time for +contradiction. "Will you have the hardihood to say that you did not +love me?" Then she paused thinking that he would not dare to +contradict her then, feeling that in that she was on strong ground. +"Were you lying when you told me that you did? What did you mean when +I was in your arms up in the house there? What did you intend me to +think that you meant?" Then she stopped, standing well in front of +him, and looking fixedly into his face.</p> + +<p>This was the very thing that he had feared. Lord Augustus had been a +trouble. The Duke's letter had been a trouble. Lady Augustus had been +a trouble; and Sir George's sermons had been troublesome. But what +were they all when compared to this? How is it possible that a man +should tell a girl that he has not loved her, when he has embraced +her again and again? He may know it, and she may know it,—and each +may know that the other knows it;—but to say that he does not and +did not then love her is beyond the scope of his audacity,—unless he +be a heartless Nero. "No one can grieve about this so much as I do," +he said weakly.</p> + +<p>"Cannot I grieve more, do you think,—I who told all my relatives +that I was to become your wife, and was justified in so telling them? +Was I not justified?"</p> + +<p>"I think not."</p> + +<p>"You think not! What did you mean then? What were you thinking of +when we were coming back in the carriage from Stamford,—when with +your arms round me you swore that you loved me better than all the +world? Is that true? Did you so swear?" What a question for a man to +have to answer! It was becoming clear to him that there was nothing +for him but to endure and be silent. Even to this interview the gods +would at last give an end. The hour would pass, though, alas, so +slowly, and she could not expect that he should stand there to be +rated much after the accustomed time for feeding. "You acknowledge +that, and do you dare to say that I had no right to tell my friends?"</p> + +<p>There was a moment in which he thought it was almost a pity that he +had not married her. She was very beautiful in her present +form,—more beautiful he thought than ever. She was the niece of a +Duke, and certainly a very clever woman. He had not wanted money and +why shouldn't he have married her? As for hunting him,—that was a +matter of course. He was as much born and bred to be hunted as a fox. +He could not do it now as he had put too much power into the hands of +the Penwethers, but he almost wished that he had. "I never intended +it," he said.</p> + +<p>"What did you intend? After what has occurred I suppose I have a +right to ask such a question. I have made a somewhat unpleasant +journey to-day, all alone, on purpose to ask that question. What did +you intend?" In his great annoyance he struck his shovel angrily +against the ground. "And I will not leave you till I get an answer to +the question. What did you intend, Lord Rufford?" There was nothing +for him but silence and a gradual progress back towards the house.</p> + +<p>But from the latter resource she cut him off for a time. "You will do +me the favour to remain with me here till this conversation is ended. +You cannot refuse me so slight a request as that, seeing the trouble +to which you have put me. I never saw a man so forgetful of words. +You cannot speak. Have you no excuse to offer, not a word to say in +explanation of conduct so black that I don't think here in England I +ever heard a case to equal it? If your sister had been treated so!"</p> + +<p>"It would have been impossible."</p> + +<p>"I believe it. Her cautious nature would have trusted no man as I +trusted you. Her lips, doubtless, were never unfrozen till the +settlements had been signed. With her it was a matter of bargain, not +of love. I can well believe that."</p> + +<p>"I will not talk about my sister."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, Lord Rufford, that you object to talk about +anything. You certainly have been very uncommunicative with reference +to yourself. Were you lying when you told me that you loved me?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Did I lie when I told the Duchess that you had promised me your +love? Did I lie when I told my mother that in these days a man does +not always mention marriage when he asks a girl to be his wife? You +said you loved me, and I believed you, and the rest was a thing of +course. And you meant it. You know you meant it. When you held me in +your arms in the carriage you know you meant me to suppose that it +would always be so. Then the fear of your sister came upon you, and +of your sister's husband,—and you ran away! I wonder whether you +think yourself a man!" And yet she felt that she had not hit him yet. +He was wretched enough; and she could see that he was wretched;—but +the wretchedness would pass away as soon as she was gone. How could +she stab him so that the wound would remain? With what virus could +she poison her arrow, so that the agony might be prolonged? "And such +a coward too! I began to suspect it when you started that night from +Mistletoe,—though I did not think then that you could be all mean, +all cowardly. From that day to this, you have not dared to speak a +word of truth. Every word has been a falsehood."</p> + +<p>"By heavens, no."</p> + +<p>"Every word a falsehood! and I, a lady,—a lady whom you have so +deeply injured, whose cruel injury even you have not the face to +deny,—am forced by your cowardice to come to you here, because you +have not dared to come out to meet me. Is that true!"</p> + +<p>"What good can it do?"</p> + +<p>"None to me, God knows. You are such a thing that I would not have +you now I know you, though you were twice Lord Rufford. But I have +chosen to speak my mind to you and to tell you what I think. Did you +suppose that when I said I would meet you face to face I was to be +deterred by such girl's excuses as you made? I chose to tell you to +your face that you are false, a coward, and no gentleman, and though +you had hidden yourself under the very earth I would have found you." +Then she turned round and saw Sir George Penwether standing close to +them.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford had seen him approaching for some time, and had made one +or two futile attempts to meet him. Arabella's back had been turned +to the house, and she had not heard the steps or observed the +direction of her companion's eyes. He came so near before he was seen +that he heard her concluding words. Then Lord Rufford with a ghastly +attempt at pleasantry introduced them. "George," he said, "I do not +think you know Miss Trefoil. Sir George Penwether;—Miss Trefoil."</p> + +<p>The interview had been watched from the house and the husband had +been sent down by his wife to mitigate the purgatory which she knew +that her brother must be enduring. "My wife," said Sir George, "has +sent me to ask Miss Trefoil whether she will not come into lunch."</p> + +<p>"I believe it is Lord Rufford's house," said Arabella.</p> + +<p>"If Miss Trefoil's frame of mind will allow her to sit at table with +me I shall be proud to see her," said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"Miss Trefoil's frame of mind will not allow her to eat or to drink +with such a dastard," said she turning away in the direction of the +park gates. "Perhaps, Sir George, you will be kind enough to direct +the man who brought me here to pick me up at the lodge." And so she +walked away—a mile across the park,—neither of them caring to +follow her.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her as she stood at the lodge gate, having obstinately +refused to enter the house, to be an eternity before the fly came to +her. When it did come she felt as though her strength would barely +enable her to climb into it. And when she was there she wept, with +bitter throbbing woe, all the way to Rufford. It was over now at any +rate. Now there was not a possible chance on which a gleam of hope +might be made to settle. And how handsome he was, and how beautiful +the place, and how perfect would have been the triumph could she have +achieved it! One more word,—one other pressure of the hand in the +post-chaise, might have done it! Had he really promised her marriage +she did not even now think that he would have gone back from his +word. If that heavy stupid duke would have spoken to him that night +at Mistletoe, all would have been well! But now,—now there was +nothing for her but weeping and gnashing of teeth. He was gone, and +poor Morton was gone; and all those others, whose memories rose like +ghosts before her;—they were all gone. And she wept as she thought +that she might perhaps have made a better use of the gifts which +Providence had put in her way.</p> + +<p>When Mounser Green met her at the station she was beyond measure +weary. Through the whole journey she had been struggling to restrain +her sobs so that her maid should neither hear nor see them. "Don't +mind me, Mr. Green; I am only tired,—so tired," she said as she got +into the carriage which he had brought.</p> + +<p>He had with him a long, formal-looking letter addressed to herself. +But she was too weary to open it that night. It was the letter +conveying the tidings of the legacy which Morton had made in her +favour.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-14" id="c3-14"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> +<h3>LORD RUFFORD'S MODEL FARM.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>At this time Senator Gotobed was paying a second visit to Rufford +Hall. In the matter of Goarly and Scrobby he had never given way an +inch. He was still strongly of opinion that a gentleman's pheasants +had no right to eat his neighbour's corn, and that if damage were +admitted, the person committing the injury should not take upon +himself to assess the damage. He also thought,—and very often +declared his thoughts,—that Goarly was justified in shooting not +only foxes but hounds also when they came upon his property, and in +moments of excitement had gone so far as to say that not even horses +should be held sacred. He had, however, lately been driven to admit +that Goarly himself was not all that a man should be, and that Mrs. +Goarly's goose was an impostor. It was the theory,—the principle for +which he combated, declaring that the evil condition of the man +himself was due to the evil institutions among which he had been +reared. By degrees evidence had been obtained of Scrobby's guilt in +the matter of the red herrings, and he was to be tried for the +offence of putting down poison. Goarly was to be the principal +witness against his brother conspirator. Lord Rufford, instigated by +his brother-in-law, and liking the spirit of the man, had invited the +Senator to stay at the Hall while the case was being tried at the +Rufford Quarter Sessions. I am afraid the invitation was given in a +spirit of triumph over the Senator rather than with genuine +hospitality. It was thought well that the American should be made to +see in public the degradation of the abject creature with whom he had +sympathised. Perhaps there were some who thought that in this way +they would get the Senator's neck under their heels. If there were +such they were likely to be mistaken, as the Senator was not a man +prone to submit himself to such treatment.</p> + +<p>He was seated at table with Lady Penwether and Miss Penge when Lord +Rufford and his brother-in-law came into the room, after parting with +Miss Trefoil in the manner described in the last chapter. Lady +Penwether had watched their unwelcome visitor as she took her way +across the park and had whispered something to Miss Penge. Miss Penge +understood the matter thoroughly, and would not herself have made the +slightest allusion to the other young lady. Had the Senator not been +there the two gentlemen would have been allowed to take their places +without a word on the subject. But the Senator had a marvellous gift +of saying awkward things and would never be reticent. He stood for a +while at the window in the drawing-room before he went across the +hall, and even took up a pair of field-glasses to scrutinise the +lady; and when they were all present he asked whether that was not +Miss Trefoil whom he had seen down by the new fence. Lady Penwether, +without seeming to look about her, did look about her for a few +seconds to see whether the question might be allowed to die away +unanswered. She perceived, from the Senator's face, that he intended +to have an answer.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "that was Miss Trefoil. I am very glad that she is +not coming in to disturb us."</p> + +<p>"A great blessing," said Miss Penge.</p> + +<p>"Where is she staying?" asked the Senator.</p> + +<p>"I think she drove over from Rufford," said the elder lady.</p> + +<p>"Poor young lady! She was engaged to marry my friend, Mr. John +Morton. She must have felt his death very bitterly. He was an +excellent young man; rather opinionated and perhaps too much wedded +to the traditions of his own country; but, nevertheless, a +painstaking, excellent young man. I had hoped to welcome her as Mrs. +Morton in America."</p> + +<p>"He was to have gone to Patagonia," said Lord Rufford, endeavouring +to come to himself after the sufferings of the morning.</p> + +<p>"We should have seen him back in Washington, Sir. Whenever you have +anything good in diplomacy you generally send him to us. Poor young +lady! Was she talking about him?"</p> + +<p>"Not particularly," said his lordship.</p> + +<p>"She must have remembered that when she was last here he was of the +party, and it was but a few weeks ago,—only a little before +Christmas. He struck me as being cold in his manner as an affianced +lover. Was not that your idea, Lady Penwether?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I observed him especially."</p> + +<p>"I have reason to believe that he was much attached to her. She could +be sprightly enough; but at times there seemed to come a cold +melancholy upon her too. It is I fancy so with most of your English +ladies. Miss Trefoil always gave me the idea of being a good type of +the English aristocracy." Lady Penwether and Miss Penge drew +themselves up very stiffly. "You admired her, I think, my Lord."</p> + +<p>"Very much indeed," said Lord Rufford, filling his mouth with +pigeon-pie as he spoke, and not lifting his eyes from his plate.</p> + +<p>"Will she be back to dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no," said Lady Penwether. There was something in her tone +which at last startled the Senator into perceiving that Miss Trefoil +was not popular at Rufford Hall.</p> + +<p>"She only came for a morning call," said Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"Poor young woman. She has lost her husband, and, I am afraid, now +has lost her friends also. I am told that she is not well off;—and +from what I see and hear, I fancy that here in England a young lady +without a dowry cannot easily replace a lover. I suppose, too, Miss +Trefoil is not quite in her first youth."</p> + +<p>"If you have done, Caroline," said Lady Penwether to Miss Penge, "I +think we'll go into the other room."</p> + +<p>That afternoon Sir George asked the Senator to accompany him for a +walk. Sir George was held to be responsible for the Senator's +presence, and was told by the ladies that he must do something with +him. The next day, which was Friday, would be occupied by the affairs +of Scrobby and Goarly, and on the Saturday he was to return to town. +The two started about three with the object of walking round the park +and the home farm—the Senator intent on his duty of examining the +ways of English life to the very bottom. "I hope I did not say +anything amiss about Miss Trefoil," he remarked, as they passed +through a shrubbery gate into the park.</p> + +<p>"No; I think not."</p> + +<p>"I thought your good lady looked as though she did not like the +subject."</p> + +<p>"I am not sure that Miss Trefoil is very popular with the ladies up +there."</p> + +<p>"She's a handsome young woman and clever, though, as I said before, +given to melancholy, and sometimes fastidious. When we were all here +I thought that Lord Rufford admired her, and that poor Mr. Morton was +a little jealous."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't at Rufford then. Here we get out of the park on to the home +farm. Rufford does it very well,—very well indeed."</p> + +<p>"Looks after it altogether himself?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot quite say that. He has a land-bailiff who lives in the +house there."</p> + +<p>"With a salary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; £120 a year I think the man has."</p> + +<p>"And that house?" asked the Senator. "Why, the house and garden are +worth £50 a year."</p> + +<p>"I dare say they are. Of course it costs money. It's near the park +and had to be made ornamental."</p> + +<p>"And does it pay?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no; I should think not. In point of fact I know it does not. +He loses about the value of the ground."</p> + +<p>The Senator asked a great many more questions and then began his +lecture. "A man who goes into trade and loses by it, cannot be doing +good to himself or to others. You say, Sir George, that it is a model +farm;—but it's a model of ruin. If you want to teach a man any other +business, you don't specially select an example in which the +proprietors are spending all their capital without any return. And if +you would not do this in shoemaking, why in farming?"</p> + +<p>"The neighbours are able to see how work should be done."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Sir George, but it seems to me that they are enabled to +see how work should not be done. If his lordship would stick up over +his gate a notice to the effect that everything seen there was to be +avoided, he might do some service. If he would publish his accounts +half-yearly in the village +<span class="nowrap">newspaper—"</span></p> + +<p>"There isn't a village newspaper."</p> + +<p>"In the <i>Rufford Gazette</i>. There is a <i>Rufford Gazette</i>, and +Rufford isn't much more than a village. If he would publish his accounts +half-yearly in the <i>Rufford Gazette</i>, honestly showing how much he +had lost by his system, how much capital had been misapplied, and how +much labour wasted, he might serve as an example, like the pictures +of 'The Idle Apprentice.' I don't see that he can do any other +good,—unless it be to the estimable gentleman who is allowed to +occupy the pretty house. I don't think you'd see anything like that +model farm in our country, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Your views, Mr. Gotobed, are utilitarian rather than picturesque."</p> + +<p>"Oh!—if you say that it is done for the picturesque, that is another +thing. Lord Rufford is a wealthy lord, and can afford to be +picturesque. A green sward I should have thought handsomer, as well +as less expensive, than a ploughed field, but that is a matter of +taste. Only why call a pretty toy a model farm? You might mislead the +British rustics."</p> + +<p>They had by this time passed through a couple of fields which formed +part of the model farm, and had come to a stile leading into a large +meadow. "This I take it," said the Senator looking about him, "is +beyond the limits of my Lord's plaything."</p> + +<p>"This is Shugborough," said Sir George, "and there is John Runce, the +occupier, on his pony. He at any rate is a model farmer." As he spoke +Mr. Runce slowly trotted up to them touching his hat, and Mr. Gotobed +recognized the man who had declined to sit next to him at the hunting +breakfast. Runce also thought that he knew the gentleman. "Do you +hunt to-morrow, Mr. Runce?" asked Sir George.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir George, no; I think not. I b'lieve I must go to Rufford +and hear that fellow Scrobby get it hot and heavy."</p> + +<p>"We seem all to be going that way. You think he'll be convicted, +Sir?"</p> + +<p>"If there's a juryman left in the country worth his salt, he'll be +convicted," said Mr. Runce, almost enraged at the doubt. "But that +other fellow;—he's to get off. That's what kills me, Sir George."</p> + +<p>"You're alluding to Mr. Goarly, Sir?" said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"That's about it, certainly," said Runce, still looking very +suspiciously at his companion.</p> + +<p>"I almost think he is the bigger rogue of the two," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Runce; "well! I don't know as he ain't. Six of one and +half a dozen of the other! That's about it." But he was evidently +pacified by the opinion.</p> + +<p>"Goarly is certainly a rascal all round," continued the Senator. +Runce looked at him to make sure whether he was the man who had +uttered such fearful blasphemies at the breakfast-table. "I think we +had a little discussion about this before, Mr. Runce."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you have changed your principles, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. I am too old to change my principles, Mr. Runce. +And much as I admire this country I don't think it's the place in +which I should be induced to do so." Runce looked at him again with a +scowl on his face and with a falling mouth. "Mr. Goarly is certainly +a blackguard."</p> + +<p>"Well;—I rather think he is."</p> + +<p>"But a blackguard may have a good cause. Put it in your own case, Mr. +Runce. If his Lordship's pheasants ate up your +<span class="nowrap">wheat—"</span></p> + +<p>"They're welcome;—they're welcome! The more the merrier. But they +don't. Pheasants know when they're well off."</p> + +<p>"Or if a crowd of horsemen rode over your fences, don't you +<span class="nowrap">think—"</span></p> + +<p>"My fences! They'd be welcome in my wife's bedroom if the fox took +that way. My fences! It's what I has fences for,—to be ridden over."</p> + +<p>"You didn't exactly hear what I have to say, Mr. Runce."</p> + +<p>"And I don't want. No offence, sir, if you be a friend of my +Lord's;—but if his Lordship was to say hisself that Goarly was +right, I wouldn't listen to him. A good cause,—and he going about at +dead o'night with his pockets full of p'ison! Hounds and foxes all +one!—or little childer either for the matter o' that, if they +happened on the herrings!"</p> + +<p>"I have not said his cause was good, Mr. Runce."</p> + +<p>"I'll wish you good evening, Sir George," said the farmer, reining +his pony round. "Good evening to you, sir." And Mr. Runce trotted or +rather ambled off, unable to endure another word.</p> + +<p>"An honest man, I dare say," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>"Certainly;—and not a bad specimen of a British farmer."</p> + +<p>"Not a bad specimen of a Briton generally;—but still, perhaps, a +little unreasonable." After that Sir George said as little as he +could, till he had brought the Senator back to the hall.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>"I think it's all over now," said Lady Penwether to Miss Penge, when +the gentlemen had left them alone in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I hope so,—for his sake. What a woman to come here by +herself, in that way!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think he ever cared for her in the least."</p> + +<p>"I can't say that I have troubled myself much about that," replied +Miss Penge. "For the sake of the family generally, and the property, +and all that, I should be very very sorry to think that he was going +to make her Lady Rufford. I dare say he has amused himself with her."</p> + +<p>"There was very little of that, as far as I can learn;—very little +encouragement indeed! What we saw here was the worst of it. He was +hardly with her at all at Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"I hope it will make him more cautious;—that's all," said Miss +Penge. Miss Penge was now a great heiress, having had her lawsuit +respecting certain shares in a Welsh coal-mine settled since we last +saw her. As all the world knows she came from one of the oldest +Commoner's families in the West of England, and is, moreover, a +handsome young woman, only twenty-seven years of age. Lady Penwether +thinks that she is the very woman to be mistress of Rufford, and I do +not know that Miss Penge herself is averse to the idea. Lord Rufford +has been too lately wounded to rise at the bait quite immediately; +but his sister knows that her brother is impressionable and that a +little patience will go a long way. They have, however, all agreed at +the hall that Arabella's name shall not again be mentioned.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-15" id="c3-15"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> +<h3>SCROBBY'S TRIAL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Rufford was a good deal moved as to the trial of Mr. Scrobby. Mr. +Scrobby was a man who not long since had held his head up in Rufford +and had the reputation of a well-to-do tradesman. Enemies had perhaps +doubted his probity; but he had gone on and prospered, and, two or +three years before the events which are now chronicled, had retired +on a competence. He had then taken a house with a few acres of land, +lying between Rufford and Rufford Hall,—the property of Lord +Rufford, and had commenced genteel life. Many in the neighbourhood +had been astonished that such a man should have been accepted as a +tenant in such a house; and it was generally understood that Lord +Rufford himself had been very angry with his agent. Mr. Scrobby did +not prosper greatly in his new career. He became a guardian of the +poor and quarrelled with all the Board. He tried to become a +municipal counsellor in the borough, but failed. Then he quarrelled +with his landlord, insisted on making changes in the grounds which +were not authorised by the terms of his holding, would not pay his +rent, and was at last ejected,—having caused some considerable +amount of trouble. Then he occupied a portion of his leisure with +spreading calumnies as to his Lordship, and was generally understood +to have made up his mind to be disagreeable. As Lord Rufford was a +sportsman rather than anything else Scrobby studied how he might best +give annoyance in that direction, and some time before the Goarly +affair had succeeded in creating considerable disturbance. When a man +will do this pertinaciously, and when his selected enemy is wealthy +and of high standing, he will generally succeed in getting a party +round him. In Rufford there were not a few who thought that Lord +Rufford's pheasants and foxes were a nuisance,—though probably these +persons had never suffered in any way themselves. It was a grand +thing to fight a lord,—and so Scrobby had a party.</p> + +<p>When the action against his Lordship was first threatened by Goarly, +and when it was understood that Scrobby had backed him with money, +there was a feeling that Scrobby was doing rather a fine thing. He +had not, indeed, used his money openly, as the Senator had afterwards +done; but that was not Scrobby's way. If Goarly had been ill-used any +help was legitimate, and the party as a party was proud of their man. +But when it came to pass that poison had been laid down, "wholesale" +as the hunting men said, in Dillsborough Wood, in the close vicinity +of Goarly's house, then the party hesitated. Such strategy as that +was disgusting;—but was there reason to think that Scrobby had been +concerned in the matter? Scrobby still had an income, and ate roast +meat or boiled every day for his dinner. Was it likely that such a +man should deal in herrings and strychnine?</p> + +<p>Nickem had been at work for the last three months, backed up by funds +which had latterly been provided by the lord's agent, and had in +truth run the matter down. Nickem had found out all about it, and in +his pride had resigned his stool in Mr. Masters' office. But the +Scrobby party in Rufford could not bring itself to believe that +Nickem was correct. That Goarly's hand had actually placed the +herrings no man either at Rufford or Dillsborough had doubted. Such +was now Nickem's story. But of what avail would be the evidence of +such a man as Goarly against such a man as Scrobby? It would be +utterly worthless unless corroborated, and the Scrobby party was not +yet aware how clever Nickem had been. Thus all Rufford was interested +in the case.</p> + +<p>Lord Rufford, Sir George Penwether, his Lordship's agent, and Mr. +Gotobed, had been summoned as witnesses,—the expenditure of money by +the Senator having by this time become notorious; and on the morning +of the trial they all went into the town in his Lordship's drag. The +Senator, as the guest, was on the box-seat with his Lordship, and as +they passed old Runce trotting into Rufford on his nag, Mr. Gotobed +began to tell the story of yesterday's meeting, complaining of the +absurdity of the old farmer's anger.</p> + +<p>"Penwether told me about it," said the Lord.</p> + +<p>"I suppose your tenant is a little crazy."</p> + +<p>"By no means. I thought he was right in what he said, if I understood +Penwether."</p> + +<p>"He couldn't have been right. He turned from me in disgust simply +because I tried to explain to him that a rogue has as much right to +be defended by the law as an honest man."</p> + +<p>"Runce looks upon these men as vermin which ought to be hunted down."</p> + +<p>"But they are not vermin. They are men;—and till they have been +found guilty they are innocent men."</p> + +<p>"If a man had murdered your child, would he be innocent in your eyes +till he was convicted?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so;—but I should be very anxious to bring home the crime +against him. And should he be found guilty even then he should not be +made subject to other punishment than that the law awards. Mr. Runce +is angry with me because I do not think that Goarly should be crushed +under the heels of all his neighbours. Take care, my Lord. Didn't we +come round that corner rather sharp?"</p> + +<p>Then Lord Rufford emphatically declared that such men as Scrobby and +Goarly should be crushed, and the Senator, with an inward sigh +declared that between landlord and tenant, between peer and farmer, +between legislator and rustic, there was, in capacity for logical +inference, no difference whatever. The British heart might be all +right; but the British head was,—ah,—hopelessly wooden! It would be +his duty to say so in his lecture, and perhaps some good might be +done to so gracious but so stolid a people, if only they could be got +to listen.</p> + +<p>Scrobby had got down a barrister from London, and therefore the case +was allowed to drag itself out through the whole day. Lord Rufford, +as a magistrate, went on to the bench himself,—though he explained +that he only took his seat there as a spectator. Sir George and Mr. +Gotobed were also allowed to sit in the high place,—though the +Senator complained even of this. Goarly and Scrobby were not allowed +to be there, and Lord Rufford, in his opinion, should also have been +debarred from such a privilege. A long time was occupied before even +a jury could be sworn, the barrister earning his money by +brow-beating the provincial bench and putting various obstacles in +the way of the trial. As he was used to practice at the assizes of +course he was able to domineer. This juror would not do, nor that. +The chairman was all wrong in his law. The officers of the Court knew +nothing about it. At first there was quite a triumph for the +Scrobbyites, and even Nickem himself was frightened. But at last the +real case was allowed to begin, and Goarly was soon in the +witness-box. Goarly did not seem to enjoy the day, and was with +difficulty got to tell his own story even on his own side. But the +story when it was told was simple enough. He had met Mr. Scrobby +accidentally in Rufford and they two had together discussed the +affairs of the young Lord. They came to an agreement that the young +Lord was a tyrant and ought to be put down, and Scrobby showed how it +was to be done. Scrobby instigated the action about the pheasants, +and undertook to pay the expenses if Goarly would act in the other +little matter. But, when he found that the Senator's money was +forthcoming, he had been anything but as good as his word. Goarly +swore that in hard cash he had never seen more than four shillings of +Scrobby's money. As to the poison, Goarly declared that he knew +nothing about it; but he certainly had received a parcel of herrings +from Scrobby's own hands, and in obedience to Scrobby's directions, +had laid them down in Dillsborough Wood the very morning on which the +hounds had come there. He owned that he supposed that there might be +something in the herrings, something that would probably be +deleterious to hounds as well as foxes,—or to children should the +herrings happen to fall into children's hands; but he assured the +Court that he had no knowledge of poison,—none whatever. Then he was +made by the other side to give a complete and a somewhat prolonged +account of his own life up to the present time,—this information +being of course required by the learned barrister on the other side; +in listening to which the Senator did become thoroughly ashamed of +the Briton whom he had assisted with his generosity.</p> + +<p>But all this would have been nothing had not Nickem secured the old +woman who had sold the herrings,—and also the chemist, from whom the +strychnine had been purchased as much as three years previously. This +latter feat was Nickem's great triumph,—the feeling of the glory of +which induced him to throw up his employment in Mr. Masters' office, +and thus brought him and his family to absolute ruin within a few +months in spite of the liberal answers which were made by Lord +Rufford to many of his numerous appeals. Away in Norrington the +poison had been purchased as much as three years ago, and yet Nickem +had had the luck to find it out. When the Scrobbyites heard that +Scrobby had gone all the way to Norrington to buy strychnine to kill +rats they were Scrobbyites no longer. "I hope they'll hang 'un. I do +hope they'll hang 'un," said Mr. Runce quite out loud from his +crowded seat just behind the attorney's bench.</p> + +<p>The barrister of course struggled hard to earn his money. Though he +could not save his client he might annoy the other side. He insisted +therefore on bringing the whole affair of the pheasants before the +Court, and examined the Senator at great length. He asked the Senator +whether he had not found himself compelled to sympathise with the +wrongs he had witnessed. The Senator declared that he had witnessed +no wrongs. Why then had he interfered? Because he had thought that +there might be wrong, and because he wished to see what power a poor +man in this country would have against a rich one. He was induced +still to think that Goarly had been ill-treated about the +pheasants;—but he could not take upon himself to say that he had +witnessed any wrong done. But he was quite sure that the system on +which such things were managed in England was at variance with that +even justice which prevailed in his own country! Yes;—by his own +country he did mean Mickewa. He could tell that learned gentleman in +spite of his sneers, and in spite of his evident ignorance of +geography, that nowhere on the earth's surface was justice more +purely administered than in the great Western State of Mickewa. It +was felt by everybody that the Senator had the best of it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Scrobby was sent into durance for twelve months with hard labour, +and Goarly was conveyed away in the custody of the police lest he +should be torn to pieces by the rough lovers of hunting who were +congregated outside. When the sentence had reached Mr. Runce's ears, +and had been twice explained to him, first by one neighbour and then +by another, his face assumed the very look which it had worn when he +carried away his victuals from the Senator's side at Rufford Hall, +and when he had turned his pony round on his own land on the previous +evening. The man had killed a fox and might have killed a dozen +hounds, and was to be locked up only for twelve months! He +indignantly asked his neighbour what had come of Van Diemen's Land, +and what was the use of Botany Bay.</p> + +<p>On their way back to Rufford Hall, Lord Rufford would have been +triumphant, had not the Senator checked him. "It's a bad state of +things altogether," he said. "Of course the promiscuous use of +strychnine is objectionable."</p> + +<p>"Rather," said his Lordship.</p> + +<p>"But is it odd that an utterly uneducated man, one whom his country +has left to grow up in the ignorance of a brute, should have recourse +to any measure, however objectionable, when the law will absolutely +give him no redress against the trespass made by a couple of hundred +horsemen?" Lord Rufford gave it up, feeling the Senator to be a man +with whom he could not argue.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-16" id="c3-16"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> +<h3>AT LAST.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When once Mrs. Morton had taken her departure for London, on the day +after her grandson's death, nothing further was heard of her at +Bragton. She locked up everything and took all the keys away, as +though still hoping,—against hope,—that the will might turn out to +be other than she expected. But when the lawyer came down to read the +document he brought the keys back with him, and no further tidings +reached Dillsborough respecting the old woman. She still drew her +income as she had done for half a century, but never even came to +look at the stone which Reginald put up on the walls of Bragton +church to perpetuate the memory of his cousin. What moans she made +she made in silent obscurity, and devoted the remainder of her years +to putting together money for members of her own family who took no +notice of her.</p> + +<p>After the funeral, Lady Ushant returned to the house at the request +of her nephew, who declared his purpose of remaining at Hoppet Hall +for the present. She expostulated with him and received from him an +assurance that he would take up his residence as squire at Bragton as +soon as he married a wife,—should he ever do so. In the meantime he +could, he thought, perform his duties from Hoppet Hall as well as on +the spot. As a residence for a bachelor he preferred, he said, Hoppet +Hall to the park. Lady Ushant yielded and returned once again to her +old home,—the house in which she had been born,—and gave up her +lodgings at Cheltenham. The word that he said about his possible +marriage set her mind at work, and induced her to put sundry +questions to him. "Of course you will marry?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Men who have property to leave behind them usually do marry, and as +I am not wiser than others, I probably may do so. But I will not +admit that it is a matter of course. I may escape yet."</p> + +<p>"I do hope you will marry. I hope it may be before I die, so that I +may see her."</p> + +<p>"And disapprove of her, ten to one."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I shall not if you tell me that you love her."</p> + +<p>"Then I will tell you so,—to prevent disagreeable results."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure there must be somebody that you like, Reginald," she +said after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Are you? I don't know that I have shown any very strong preference. +I am not disposed to praise myself for many things, but I really do +think that I have been as undemonstrative as most men of my age."</p> + +<p>"Still I did hope—"</p> + +<p>"What did you hope?"</p> + +<p>"I won't mention any name. I don't think it is right. I have observed +that more harm than good comes of such talking, and I have determined +always to avoid it. <span class="nowrap">But—."</span> Then +there was another pause. "Remember +how old I am, Reginald, and when it is to be done give me at any rate +the pleasure of knowing it." Of course he knew to whom she alluded, +and of course he laughed at her feeble caution. But he would not say +a word to encourage her to mention the name of Mary Masters. He +thought that he was sure that were the girl free he would now ask her +to be his wife. If he loved any one it was her. If he had ever known +a woman with whom he thought it would be pleasant to share the joy +and labours of life, it was Mary Masters. If he could imagine that +any one constant companion would be a joy to him, she would be that +person. But he had been distinctly informed that she was in love with +some one, and not for worlds would he ask for that which had been +given to another. And not for worlds would he hazard the chance of a +refusal. He thought that he could understand the delight, that he +could thoroughly enjoy the rapture, of hearing her whisper with +downcast eyes, that she could love him. He had imagination enough to +build castles in the air in which she reigned as princess, in which +she would lie with her head upon his bosom and tell him that he was +her chosen prince. But he would hardly know how to bear himself +should he ask in vain. He believed he could love as well as Lawrence +Twentyman, but he was sure that he could not continue his quest as +that young man had done.</p> + +<p>When Lady Ushant had been a day or two at the house she asked him +whether she might invite Mary there as her guest,—as her perpetual +guest.—"I have no objection in life," he said;—"but take care that +you don't interfere with her happiness."</p> + +<p>"Because of her father and sisters?" suggested the innocent old lady.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent">"'Has she a father, has she a mother;<br /> + Or has she a dearer one still than all other?'"</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p class="noindent">said Reginald laughing.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has."</p> + +<p>"Then don't interfere with her happiness in that direction. How is +she to have a lover come to see her out here?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? I don't see why she shouldn't have a lover here as well as +in Dillsborough. I don't object to lovers, if they are of the proper +sort;—and I am sure Mary wouldn't have anything else." Reginald told +her she might do as she pleased and made no further inquiry as to +Mary's lovers.</p> + +<p>A few days afterwards Mary went with her boxes to Bragton,—Mrs. +Masters repeating her objections, but repeating them with but little +energy. Just at this time a stroke of good fortune befell the Masters +family generally which greatly reduced her power over her husband. +Reginald Morton had spent an hour in the attorney's office, and had +declared his purpose of restoring Mr. Masters to his old family +position in regard to the Bragton estate. When she heard it she felt +at once that her dominion was gone. She had based everything on the +growing inferiority of her husband's position, and now he was about +to have all his glory back again! She had inveighed against gentlemen +from the day of her marriage,—and here he was, again to be immersed +up to his eyes in the affairs of a gentleman. And then she had been +so wrong about Goarly, and Lord Rufford had been so much better a +client! And ready money had been so much more plentiful of late, +owing to poor John Morton's ready-handed honesty! She had very little +to say about it when Mary packed her boxes and was taken in Mr. +Runciman's fly to Bragton.</p> + +<p>Since the old days, the old days of all, since the days to which +Reginald had referred when he asked her to pass over the bridge with +him, she had never yet walked about the Bragton grounds. She had +often been to the house, visiting Lady Ushant; but she had simply +gone thither and returned. And indeed, when the house had been empty, +the walk from Dillsborough to the bridge and back had been sufficient +exercise for herself and her sisters. But now she could go whither +she listed and bring her memory to all the old spots. With the +tenacity as to household matters which characterised the ladies of +the country some years since, Lady Ushant employed all her mornings +and those of her young friend in making inventories of everything +that was found in the house; but her afternoons were her own, and she +wandered about with a freedom she had never known before. At this +time Reginald Morton was up in London and had been away nearly a +week. He had gone intending to be absent for some undefined time, so +that Lady Ushant and Mrs. Hopkins were free from all interruption. It +was as yet only the middle of March and the lion had not altogether +disappeared; but still Mary could get out. She did not care much for +the wind; and she roamed about among the leafless shrubberies, +thinking,—probably not of many things,—meaning always to think of +the past, but unable to keep her mind from the future, the future +which would so soon be the present. How long would it be before the +coming of that stately dame? Was he in quest of her now? Had he +perhaps postponed his demand upon her till fortune had made him rich? +Of course she had no right to be sorry that he had inherited the +property which had been his almost of right;—but yet, had it been +otherwise, might she not have had some chance? But, oh, if he had +said a word to her, only a word more than he had spoken already,—a +word that might have sounded like encouragement to others beside +herself, and then have been obliged to draw back because of the duty +which he owed to the property,—how much worse would that have been! +She did own to herself that the squire of Bragton should not look for +his wife in the house of a Dillsborough attorney. As she thought of +this a tear ran down her cheek and trickled down on to the wooden +rail of the little bridge.</p> + +<p>"There's no one to give you an excuse now, and you must come and walk +round with me," said a voice, close to her ear.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Morton, how you have startled me!"</p> + +<p>"Is there anything the matter, Mary?" said he, looking up into her +face.</p> + +<p>"Only you have startled me so."</p> + +<p>"Has that brought tears into your eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Well,—I suppose so," she said trying to smile. "You were so very +quiet and I thought you were in London."</p> + +<p>"So I was this morning, and now I am here. But something else has +made you unhappy."</p> + +<p>"No; nothing."</p> + +<p>"I wish we could be friends, Mary. I wish I could know your secret. +You have a secret."</p> + +<p>"No," she said boldly.</p> + +<p>"Is there nothing?"</p> + +<p>"What should there be, Mr. Morton!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me why you were crying."</p> + +<p>"I was not crying. Just a tear is not crying. Sometimes one does get +melancholy. One can't cry when there is any one to look, and so one +does it alone. I'd have been laughing if I knew that you were +coming."</p> + +<p>"Come round by the kennels. You can get over the wall;—can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"And we'll go down the old orchard, and get out by the corner of the +park fence." Then he walked and she followed him, hardly keeping +close by his side, and thinking as she went how foolish she had been +not to have avoided the perils and fresh troubles of such a walk. +When he was helping her over the wall he held her hands for a moment +and she was aware of unusual pressure. It was the pressure of +love,—or of that pretence of love which young men, and perhaps old +men, sometimes permit themselves to affect. In an ordinary way Mary +would have thought as little of it as another girl. She might feel +dislike to the man, but the affair would be too light for resentment. +With this man it was different. He certainly was not justified in +making the slightest expression of factitious affection. He at any +rate should have felt himself bound to abstain from any touch of +peculiar tenderness. She would not say a word. She would not even +look at him with angry eyes. But she twitched both her hands away +from him as she sprang to the ground. Then there was a passage across +the orchard,—not more than a hundred yards, and after that a stile. +At the stile she insisted on using her own hand for the custody of +her dress. She would not even touch his outstretched arm. "You are +very independent," he said.</p> + +<p>"I have to be so."</p> + +<p>"I cannot make you out, Mary. I wonder whether there is still +anything rankling in your bosom against me."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no. What should rankle with me?"</p> + +<p>"What indeed;—unless you resent my—regard."</p> + +<p>"I am not so rich in friends as to do that, Mr. Morton."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there can be many people who have the same sort of +feeling for you that I have."</p> + +<p>"There are not many who have known me so long, certainly."</p> + +<p>"You have some friend, I know," he said.</p> + +<p>"More than one I hope."</p> + +<p>"Some special friend. Who is he, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Morton." She then thought that he +was still alluding to Lawrence Twentyman.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Mary."</p> + +<p>"What am I to tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Your father says that there is some one."</p> + +<p>"Papa!"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—your father."</p> + +<p>Then she remembered it all;—how she had been driven into a half +confession to her father. She could not say there was nobody. She +certainly could not say who that some one was. She could not be +silent, for by silence she would be confessing a passion for some +other man,—a passion which certainly had no existence. "I don't know +why papa should talk about me," she said, "and I certainly don't know +why you should repeat what he said."</p> + +<p>"But there is some one?" She clenched her fist, and hit out at the +air with her parasol, and knit her brows as she looked up at him with +a glance of fire in her eye which he had never seen there before. +"Believe me, Mary," he said;—"if ever a girl had a sincere friend, +you have one in me. I would not tease you by impertinence in such a +matter. I will be as faithful to you as the sun. Do you love any +one?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said turning round at him with ferocity and shouting out +her answer as she pressed on.</p> + +<p>"Who is he, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"What right have you to ask me? What right can any one have? Even +your aunt would not press me as you are doing."</p> + +<p>"My aunt could not have the same interest. Who is he, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"I will not tell you."</p> + +<p>He paused a few moments and walked on a step or two before he spoke +again. "I would it were I," he said.</p> + +<p>"What!" she ejaculated.</p> + +<p>"I would it were I," he repeated.</p> + +<p>One glance of her eye stole itself round into his face, and then her +face was turned quickly to the ground. Her parasol which had been +raised drooped listless from her hand. All unconsciously she hastened +her steps and became aware that the tears were streaming from her +eyes. For a moment or two it seemed to her that all was still +hopeless. If he had no more to say than that, certainly she had not a +word. He had made her no tender of his love. He had not told her that +in very truth she was his chosen one. After all she was not sure that +she understood the meaning of those words "I would it were I." But +the tears were coming so quick that she could see nothing of the +things around her, and she did not dare even to put her hand up to +her eyes. If he wanted her love,—if it was possible that he really +wished for it,—why did he not ask for it? She felt his footsteps +close to hers, and she was tempted to walk on quicker even than +before. Then there came the fingers of a hand round her waist, +stealing gradually on till she felt the pressure of his body on her +shoulders. She put her hand up weakly, to push back the intruding +fingers,—only to leave it tight in his grasp. Then,—then was the +first moment in which she realized the truth. After all he did love +her. Surely he would not hold her there unless he meant her to know +that he loved her. "Mary," he said. To speak was impossible, but she +turned round and looked at him with imploring eyes. "Mary,—say that +you will be my wife."</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-17" id="c3-17"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> +<h3>"MY OWN, OWN HUSBAND."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Yes;—it had come at last. As one may imagine to be the certainty of +paradise to the doubting, fearful, all but despairing soul when it +has passed through the gates of death and found in new worlds a +reality of assured bliss, so was the assurance to her, conveyed by +that simple request, "Mary, say that you will be my wife." It did not +seem to her that any answer was necessary. Will it be required that +the spirit shall assent to its entrance into Elysium? Was there room +for doubt? He would never go back from his word now. He would not +have spoken the word had he not been quite, quite certain. And he had +loved her all that time,—when she was so hard to him! It must have +been so. He had loved her, this bright one, even when he thought that +she was to be given to that clay-bound rustic lover! Perhaps that was +the sweetest of it all, though in draining the sweet draught she had +to accuse herself of hardness, blindness and injustice. Could it be +real? Was it true that she had her foot firmly placed in Paradise? He +was there, close to her, with his arm still round her, and her +fingers grasped within his. The word wife was still in her +ears,—surely the sweetest word in all the language! What +protestation of love could have been so eloquent as that question? +"Will you be my wife?" No true man, she thought, ever ought to ask +the question in any other form. But her eyes were still full of +tears, and as she went she knew not where she was going. She had +forgotten all her surroundings, being only aware that he was with +her, and that no other eyes were on them.</p> + +<p>Then there was another stile on reaching which he withdrew his arm +and stood facing her with his back leaning against it. "Why do you +weep?" he said;—"and, Mary, why do you not answer my question? If +there be anybody else you must tell me now."</p> + +<p>"There is nobody else," she said almost angrily. "There never was. +There never could be."</p> + +<p>"And yet there was somebody!" She pouted her lips at him, glancing up +into his face for half a second, and then again hung her head down. +"Mary, do not grudge me my delight."</p> + +<p>"No;—no;—no!"</p> + +<p>"But you do."</p> + +<p>"No. If there can be delight to you in so poor a thing, have it all."</p> + +<p>"Then you must kiss me, dear." She gently came to him,—oh so +gently,—and with her head still hanging, creeping towards his +shoulder, thinking perhaps that the motion should have been his, but +still obeying him, and then, leaning against him, seemed as though +she would stoop with her lips to his hand. But this he did not +endure. Seizing her quickly in his arms he drew her up, till her not +unwilling face was close to his, and there he kept her till she was +almost frightened by his violence. "And now, Mary, what do you say to +my question? It has to be answered."</p> + +<p>"You know."</p> + +<p>"But that will not do, I will have it in words. I will not be shorn +of my delight."</p> + +<p>That it should be a delight to him, was the very essence of her +heaven. "Tell me what to say," she answered. "How may I say it best?"</p> + +<p>"Reginald Morton," he began.</p> + +<p>"Reginald," she repeated it after him, but went no farther in naming +him.</p> + +<p>"Because I love you better than any other being in the +<span class="nowrap">world—"</span></p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but say it."</p> + +<p>"Because I love you, oh, so much better than all the world besides."</p> + +<p>"Therefore, my own, own husband—"</p> + +<p>"Therefore, my own, own—" Then she paused.</p> + +<p>"Say the word."</p> + +<p>"My own, own husband."</p> + +<p>"I will be your true wife."</p> + +<p>"I will be your own true loving wife." Then he kissed her again.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, "is our little marriage ceremony under God's sky, +and no other can be more binding. As soon as you, in the plentitude +of your maiden power, will fix a day for the other one, and when we +can get that over, then we will begin our little journey together."</p> + +<p>"But Reginald!"</p> + +<p>"Well, dear!"</p> + +<p>"You haven't said anything."</p> + +<p>"Haven't I? I thought I had said it all."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't said it for yourself!"</p> + +<p>"You say what you want,—and I'll repeat it quite as well as you +did."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that. Say it yourself."</p> + +<p>"I will be your true husband for the rest of the journey;—by which I +mean it to be understood that I take you into partnership on equal +terms, but that I am to be allowed to manage the business just as I +please."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—that you shall," she said, quite in earnest.</p> + +<p>"Only as you are practical and I am vague, I don't doubt that +everything will fall into your hands before five years are over, and +that I shall have to be told whether I can afford to buy a new book, +and when I am to ask all the gentry to dinner."</p> + +<p>"Now you are laughing at me because I shall know so little about +anything."</p> + +<p>"Come, dear; let us get over the stile and go on for another field, +or we shall never get round the park." Then she jumped over after +him, just touching his hand. "I was not laughing at you at all. I +don't in the least doubt that in a very little time you will know +everything about everything."</p> + +<p>"I am so much afraid."</p> + +<p>"You needn't be. I know you well enough for that. But suppose I had +taken such a one as that young woman who was here with my poor +cousin. Oh, heavens!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you ought to have done so."</p> + +<p>"I thank the Lord that hath delivered me."</p> + +<p>"You ought,—you ought to have chosen some lady of high standing," +said Mary, thinking with ineffable joy of the stately dame who was +not to come to Bragton. "Do you know what I was thinking only the +other day about it?—that you had gone up to London to look for some +proper sort of person."</p> + +<p>"And how did you mean to receive her?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have received her at all. I should have gone away. You +can't do it now."</p> + +<p>"Can't I?"</p> + +<p>"What were you thanking the Lord for so heartily?"</p> + +<p>"For you."</p> + +<p>"Were you? That is the sweetest thing you have said yet. My own;—my +darling;—my dearest! If only I can so live that you may be able to +thank the Lord for me in years to come!"</p> + +<p>I will not trouble the reader with all that was said at every stile. +No doubt very much of what has been told was repeated again and again +so that the walk round the park was abnormally long. At last, +however, they reached the house, and as they entered the hall, Mary +whispered to him, "Who is to tell your aunt?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Come along," he replied striding upstairs to his aunt's bedroom, +where he knew she would be at this time. He opened the door without +any notice and, having waited till Mary had joined him, led her +forcibly into the middle of the room. "Here she is," he said;—"my +wife elect."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reginald!"</p> + +<p>"We have managed it all, and there needn't be any more said about it +except to settle the day. Mary has been looking about the house and +learning her duty already. She'll be able to have every bedstead and +every chair by heart, which is an advantage ladies seldom possess." +Then Mary rushed forward and was received into the old woman's arms.</p> + +<p>When Reginald left them, which he did very soon after the +announcement was made, Lady Ushant had a great deal to say. "I have +been thinking of it, my dear,—oh,—for years;—ever since he came to +Hoppet Hall. But I am sure the best way is never to say anything. If +I had interfered there is no knowing how it might have been."</p> + +<p>"Then, dear Lady Ushant, I am so glad you didn't," said Mary,—being +tolerably sure at the same time within her own bosom that her loving +old friend could have done no harm in that direction.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't say a word though I was always thinking of it. But then +he is so odd, and no one can know what he means sometimes. That's +what made me think when Mr. Twentyman was so very +<span class="nowrap">pressing—"</span></p> + +<p>"That couldn't—couldn't have been possible."</p> + +<p>"Poor young man!"</p> + +<p>"But I always told him it was impossible."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether you cared about Reginald all that time." In answer +to this Mary only hid her face in the old woman's lap. "Dear me! I +suppose you did all along. But I am sure it was better not to say +anything, and now what will your papa and mamma say?"</p> + +<p>"They'll hardly believe it at first."</p> + +<p>"I hope they'll be glad."</p> + +<p>"Glad! Why what do you suppose they would want me to do? Dear papa! +And dear mamma too, because she has really been good to me. I wonder +when it must be?" Then that question was discussed at great length, +and Lady Ushant had a great deal of very good advice to bestow. She +didn't like long engagements, and it was very essential for +Reginald's welfare that he should settle himself at Bragton as soon +as possible. Mary's pleas for a long day were not very urgent.</p> + +<p>That evening at Bragton was rather long and rather dull. It was +almost the first that she had ever passed in company with Reginald, +and there now seemed to be a necessity of doing something peculiar, +whereas there was nothing peculiar to be done. It was his custom to +betake himself to his books after dinner; but he could hardly do so +with ease in company with the girl who had just promised him to be +his wife. Lady Ushant too wished to show her extreme joy, and made +flattering but vain attempts to be ecstatic. Mary, to tell the truth, +was longing for solitude, feeling that she could not yet realise her +happiness.</p> + +<p>Not even when she was in bed could she reduce her mind to order. It +would have been all but impossible even had he remained the +comparatively humble lord of Hoppet Hall;—but that the squire of +Bragton should be her promised husband was a marvel so great that +from every short slumber, she waked with fear of treacherous dreams. +A minute's sleep might rob her of her joy and declare to her in the +moment of waking that it was all an hallucination. It was not that he +was dearer to her, or that her condition was the happier, because of +his position and wealth;—but that the chance of his inheritance had +lifted him so infinitely above her! She thought of the little room at +home which she generally shared with one of her sisters, of her all +too scanty wardrobe, of her daily tasks about the house, of her +stepmother's late severity, and of her father's cares. Surely he +would not hinder her from being good to them; surely he would let the +young girls come to her from time to time! What an added happiness it +would be if he would allow her to pass on to them some sparks of the +prosperity which he was bestowing on her. And then her thoughts +travelled on to poor Larry. Would he not be more contented now;—now, +when he would be certain that no further frantic efforts could avail +him anything. Poor Larry! Would Reginald permit her to regard him as +a friend? And would he submit to friendly treatment? She could look +forward and see him happy with his wife, the best loved of their +neighbours;—for who was there in the world better than Larry? But +she did not know how two men who had both been her lovers, would +allow themselves to be brought together. But, oh, what peril had been +there! It was but the other day she had striven so hard to give the +lie to her love and to become Larry's wife. She shuddered beneath the +bedclothes as she thought of the danger she had run. One word would +have changed all her Paradise into a perpetual wail of tears and +waste of desolation. When she woke in the morning from her long sleep +an effort was wanting to tell her that it was all true. Oh, if it had +slipped from her then;—if she had waked after such a dream to find +herself loving in despair with a sore bosom and angry heart!</p> + +<p>She met him downstairs, early, in the study, having her first request +to make to him. Might she go in at once after breakfast and tell them +all? "I suppose I ought to go to your father," he said. "Let me go +first," she pleaded, hanging on his arm. "I would not think that I +was not mindful of them from the very beginning." So she was driven +into Dillsborough in the pony carriage which had been provided for +old Mrs. Morton's use, and told her own story. "Papa," she said, +going to the office door. "Come into the house;—come at once." And +then, within her father's arms, while her stepmother listened, she +told them of her triumph. "Mr. Reginald Morton wants me to be his +wife, and he is coming here to ask you."</p> + +<p>"The Lord in heaven be good to us," said Mrs. Masters, holding up +both her hands. "Is it true, child?"</p> + +<p>"The squire!"</p> + +<p>"It is true, papa,—and,—and—"</p> + +<p>"And what, my love?"</p> + +<p>"When he comes to you, you must say I will be."</p> + +<p>There was not much danger on that score. "Was it he that you told me +of?" said the attorney. To this she only nodded her assent. "It was +Reginald Morton all the time? Well!"</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't it be he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, my dear! You are a most fortunate girl,—most fortunate! But +somehow I never thought of it, that a child of mine should come to +live at Bragton and have it, one may say, partly as her own! It is +odd after all that has come and gone. God bless you, my dear, and +make you happy. You are a very fortunate child."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters was quite overpowered. She had thrown herself on to the +old family sofa, and was fanning herself with her handkerchief. She +had been wrong throughout, and was now completely humiliated by the +family success; and yet she was delighted, though she did not dare to +be triumphant. She had so often asked both father and daughter what +good gentlemen would do to either of them; and now the girl was +engaged to marry the richest gentleman in the neighbourhood! In any +expression of joy she would be driven to confess how wrong she had +always been. How often had she asked what would come of Ushanting. +This it was that had come of Ushanting. The girl had been made fit to +be the companion of such a one as Reginald Morton, and had now fallen +into the position which was suited to her. "Of course we shall see +nothing of you now," she said in a whimpering voice. It was not a +gracious speech, but it was almost justified by disappointments.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, you know that I shall never separate myself from you and the +girls."</p> + +<p>"Poor Larry!" said the woman sobbing. "Of course it is all for the +best; but I don't know what he'll do now."</p> + +<p>"You must tell him, papa," said Mary; "and give him my love and bid +him be a man."</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-18" id="c3-18"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> +<h3>"BID HIM BE A MAN."<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The little phaeton remained in Dillsborough to take Mary back to +Bragton. As soon as she was gone the attorney went over to the Bush +with the purpose of borrowing Runciman's pony, so that he might ride +over to Chowton Farm and at once execute his daughter's last request. +In the yard of the inn he saw Runciman himself, and was quite unable +to keep his good news to himself. "My girl has just been with me," he +said, "and what do you think she tells me?"</p> + +<p>"That she is going to take poor Larry after all. She might do worse, +Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Poor Larry! I am sorry for him. I have always liked Larry Twentyman. +But that is all over now."</p> + +<p>"She's not going to have that tweedledum young parson, surely?"</p> + +<p>"Reginald Morton has made her a set offer."</p> + +<p>"The squire!" Mr. Masters nodded his head three times. "You don't say +so. Well, Mr. Masters, I don't begrudge it you. He might do worse. +She has taken her pigs well to market at last!"</p> + +<p>"He is to come to me at four this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Well done, Miss Mary! I suppose it's been going on ever so long?"</p> + +<p>"We fathers and mothers," said the attorney, "never really know what +the young ones are after. Don't mention it just at present, Runciman. +You are such an old friend that I couldn't help telling you."</p> + +<p>"Poor Larry!"</p> + +<p>"I can have the pony, Runciman?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly you can, Mr. Masters. Tell him to come in and talk it all +over with me. If we don't look to it he'll be taking to drink +regular." At that last meeting at the club, when the late squire's +will was discussed, at which, as the reader may perhaps remember, a +little supper was also discussed in honour of the occasion, poor +Larry had not only been present, but had drunk so pottle-deep that +the landlord had been obliged to put him to bed at the inn, and he +had not been at all as he ought to have been after Lord Rufford's +dinner. Such delinquencies were quite outside the young man's +accustomed way of his life. It had been one of his recognised virtues +that, living as he did a good deal among sporting men and with a full +command of means, he had never drank. But now he had twice sinned +before the eyes of all Dillsborough, and Runciman thought that he +knew how it would be with a young man in his own house who got drunk +in public to drown his sorrow. "I wouldn't see Larry go astray and +spoil himself with liquor," said the good-natured publican, "for more +than I should like to name." Mr. Masters promised to take the hint, +and rode off on his mission.</p> + +<p>The entrance to Chowton Farm and Bragton gate were nearly opposite, +the latter being perhaps a furlong nearer to Dillsborough. The +attorney when he got to the gate stopped a moment and looked up the +avenue with pardonable pride. The great calamity of his life, the +stunning blow which had almost unmanned him when he was young, and +from which he had never quite been able to rouse himself, had been +the loss of the management of the Bragton property. His grandfather +and his father had been powerful at Bragton, and he had been brought +up in the hope of walking in their paths. Then strangers had come in, +and he had been dispossessed. But how was it with him now? It had +almost made a young man of him again when Reginald Morton, stepping +into his office, asked him as a favour to resume his old task. But +what was that in comparison with this later triumph? His own child +was to be made queen of the place! His grandson, should she be +fortunate enough to be the mother of a son, would be the squire +himself! His visits to the place for the last twenty years had been +very rare indeed. He had been sent for lately by old Mrs. +Morton,—for a purpose which if carried out would have robbed him of +all his good fortune,—but he could not remember when, before that, +he had even passed through the gateway. Now it would all become +familiar to him again. That pony of Runciman's was pleasant in his +paces, and he began to calculate whether the innkeeper would part +with the animal. He stood thus gazing at the place for some minutes +till he saw Reginald Morton in the distance turning a corner of the +road with Mary at his side. He had taken her from the phaeton and had +then insisted on her coming out with him before she took off her hat. +Mr. Masters as soon as he saw them trotted off to Chowton Farm.</p> + +<p>Finding Larry lounging at the little garden gate Mr. Masters got off +the pony and taking the young man's arm, walked off with him towards +Dillsborough Wood. He told all his news at once, almost annihilating +poor Larry by the suddenness of the blow. "Larry, Mr. Reginald Morton +has asked my girl to marry him, and she has accepted him."</p> + +<p>"The new squire!" said Larry, stopping himself on the path, and +looking as though a gentle wind would suffice to blow him over.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it has been that way all along, Larry, though we have not +known it."</p> + +<p>"It was Mr. Morton then that she told me of?"</p> + +<p>"She did tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course there was no chance for me if he wanted her. But why +didn't they speak out, so that I could have gone away? Oh, Mr. +Masters!"</p> + +<p>"It was only yesterday she knew it herself."</p> + +<p>"She must have guessed it."</p> + +<p>"No;—she knew nothing till he declared himself. And to-day, this +very morning, she has bade me come to you and let you know it. And +she sent you her love."</p> + +<p>"Her love!" said Larry, chucking the stick which he held in his hands +down to the ground and then stooping to pick it up again.</p> + +<p>"Yes;—her love. Those were her words, and I am to tell you from +her—to be a man."</p> + +<p>"Did she say that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—I was to come out to you at once, and bring you that as a +message from her."</p> + +<p>"Be a man! I could have been a man right enough if she would have +made me one;—as good a man as Reginald Morton, though he is squire +of Bragton. But of course I couldn't have given her a house like +that, nor a carriage, nor made her one of the county people. If it +was to go in that way, what could I hope for?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be unjust to her, Larry."</p> + +<p>"Unjust to her! If giving her every blessed thing I had in the world +at a moment's notice was unjust, I was ready to be unjust any day of +the week or any hour of the day."</p> + +<p>"What I mean is that her heart was fixed that way before Reginald +Morton was squire of Bragton. What shall I say in answer to her +message? You will wish her happiness;—will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Wish her happiness! Oh, heavens!" He could not explain what was in +his mind. Wish her happiness! yes;—the happiness of the angels. But +not him,—nor yet with him! And as there could be no arranging of +this, he must leave his wishes unsettled. And yet there was a certain +relief to him in the tidings he had heard. There was now no more +doubt. He need not now remain at Chowton thinking it possible that +the girl might even yet change her mind.</p> + +<p>"And you will bear in mind that she wishes you to be a man."</p> + +<p>"Why did she not make me one? But that is all, all over. You tell her +from me that I am not the man to whimper because I am hurt. What +ought a man to do that I can't do?"</p> + +<p>"Let her know that you are going about your old pursuits. And, Larry, +would you wish her to know how it was with you at the club last +Saturday?"</p> + +<p>"Did she hear of that?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure she has not heard of it. But if that kind of thing becomes +a habit, of course she will hear of it. All Dillsborough would hear +of it, if that became common. At any rate it is not manly to drown it +in drink."</p> + +<p>"Who says I do that? Nothing will drown it."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't speak if I had not known you so long, and loved you so +well. What she means is that you should work."</p> + +<p>"I do work."</p> + +<p>"And hunt. Go out to-morrow and show yourself to everybody."</p> + +<p>"If I could break my neck I would."</p> + +<p>"Don't let every farmer's son in the county say that Lawrence +Twentyman was so mastered by a girl that he couldn't ride on +horseback when she said him nay."</p> + +<p>"Everybody knows it, Mr. Masters."</p> + +<p>"Go among them as if nobody knew it. I'll warrant that nobody will +speak of it."</p> + +<p>"I don't think any one of 'em would dare to do that," said Larry +brandishing his stick.</p> + +<p>"Where is it that the hounds are to-morrow, Larry?"</p> + +<p>"Here; at the old kennel."</p> + +<p>"Go out and let her see that you have taken her advice. She is there +at the house, and she will recognise you in the park. Remember that +she sends her love to you, and bids you be a man. And, Larry, come in +and see us sometimes. The time will come, I don't doubt, when you and +the squire will be fast friends."</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"You do not know what time can do. I'll just go back now because he +is to come to me this afternoon. Try and bear up and remember that it +is she who bids you be a man." The attorney got upon his pony and +rode back to Dillsborough.</p> + +<p>Larry who had come back to the yard to see his friend off, returned +by the road into the fields, and went wandering about for a while in +Dillsborough Wood. "Bid him be a man!" Wasn't he a man? Was it +disgraceful to him as a man to be broken-hearted, because a woman +would not love him? If he were provoked he would fight,—perhaps +better than ever, because he would be reckless. Would he not be ready +to fight Reginald Morton with any weapon which could be thought of +for the possession of Mary Masters? If she were in danger would he +not go down into the deep, or through fire to save her? Were not his +old instincts of honesty and truth as strong in him as ever? Did +manliness require that his heart should be invulnerable? If so he +doubted whether he could ever be a man.</p> + +<p>But what if she meant that manliness required him to hide the wound? +Then there did come upon him a feeling of shame as he remembered how +often he had spoken of his love to those who were little better than +strangers to him, and thought that perhaps such loquacity was opposed +to the manliness which she recommended. And his conscience smote him +as it brought to his recollection the condition of his mind as he +woke in Runciman's bed at the Bush on last Sunday morning. That at +any rate had not been manly. How would it be with him if he made up +his mind never to speak again to her, and certainly not to him, and +to take care that that should be the only sign left of his suffering? +He would hunt, and be keener than ever;—he would work upon the land +with increased diligence; he would give himself not a moment to think +of anything. She should see and hear what he could do;—but he would +never speak to her again. The hounds would be at the old kennels +to-morrow. He would be there. The place no doubt was Morton's +property, but on hunting mornings all the lands of the county,—and +of the next counties if they can be reached,—are the property of the +hunt. Yes; he would be there; and she would see him in his scarlet +coat, and smartest cravat, with his boots and breeches neat as those +of Lord Rufford;—and she should know that he was doing as she bade +him. But he would never speak to her again!</p> + +<p>As he was returning round the wood, whom should he see skulking round +the corner of it but Goarly?</p> + +<p>"What business have you in here?" he said, feeling half-inclined to +take the man by the neck and drag him out of the copse.</p> + +<p>"I saw you, Mr. Twentyman, and I wanted just to have a word with +you."</p> + +<p>"You are the biggest rascal in all Rufford," said Larry. "I wonder +the lads have left you with a whole bone in your skin."</p> + +<p>"What have I done worse than any other poor man, Mr. Twentyman? When +I took them herrings I didn't know there was p'ison; and if I hadn't +took 'em, another would. I am going to cut it out of this, Mr. +Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"May the <span class="nowrap">——</span> go +along with you!" said Larry, wishing his neighbour a +very unpleasant companion.</p> + +<p>"And of course I must sell the place. Think what it would be to you! +I shouldn't like it to go into his Lordship's hands. It's all through +Bean I know, but his Lordship has had a down on me ever since he came +to the property. It's as true as true about my old woman's geese. +There's forty acres of it. What would you say to £40 an acre?"</p> + +<p>The idea of having the two extra fields made Larry's mouth water, in +spite of all his misfortunes. The desire for land among such as Larry +Twentyman is almost a disease in England. With these two fields he +would be able to walk almost round Dillsborough Wood without quitting +his own property. He had been talking of selling Chowton within the +last week or two. He had been thinking of selling it at the moment +when Mr. Masters rode up to him. And yet now he was almost tempted to +a new purchase by this man. But the man was too utterly a +blackguard,—was too odious to him.</p> + +<p>"If it comes into the market, I may bid for it as well as another," +he said, "but I wouldn't let myself down to have any dealings with +you."</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Larry, you shall never have a sod of it," said Goarly, +dropping himself over the fence on to his own field.</p> + +<p>A few minutes afterwards Larry met Bean, and told him that Goarly had +been in the wood. "If I catch him, Mr. Twentyman, I'll give him sore +bones," said Bean. "I wonder how he ever got back to his own place +alive that day." Then Bean asked Larry whether he meant to be at the +meet to-morrow, and Larry said that he thought he should. "Tony's +almost afraid to bring them in even yet," said Bean; "but if there's +a herring left in this wood, I'll eat it myself—strychnine and all."</p> + +<p>After that Larry went and looked at his horses, and absolutely gave +his mare "Bicycle" a gallop round the big grass field himself. Then +those who were about the place knew that something had happened, and +that he was in a way to be cured. "You'll hunt to-morrow, won't you, +Larry?" said his mother affectionately.</p> + +<p>"Who told you?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody told me;—but you will, Larry; won't you?"</p> + +<p>"May be I will." Then, as he was leaving the room, when he was in the +door-way, so that she should not see his face, he told her the news. +"She's going to marry the squire, yonder."</p> + +<p>"Mary Masters!"</p> + +<p>"I always hated him from the first moment I saw him. What do you +expect from a fellow who never gets a-top of a horse?" Then he turned +away, and was not seen again till long after tea-time.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-19" id="c3-19"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> +<h3>"IS IT TANTI?"<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Reginald Morton entertained serious thoughts of cleansing himself +from the reproach which Larry cast upon him when describing his +character to his mother. "I think I shall take to hunting," he said +to Mary.</p> + +<p>"But you'll tumble off, dear."</p> + +<p>"No doubt I shall, and I must try to begin in soft places. I don't +see why I shouldn't do it gradually in a small way. I shouldn't ever +become a Nimrod, like Lord Rufford or your particular friend Mr. +Twentyman."</p> + +<p>"He is my particular friend."</p> + +<p>"So I perceive. I couldn't shine as he shines, but I might gradually +learn to ride after him at a respectful distance. A man at Rome ought +to do as the Romans do."</p> + +<p>"Why wasn't Hoppet Hall Rome as much as Bragton?"</p> + +<p>"Well;—it wasn't. While fortune enabled me to be happy at Hoppet +<span class="nowrap">Hall—"</span></p> + +<p>"That is unkind, Reg."</p> + +<p>"While fortune oppressed me with celibate misery at Hoppet Hall, +nobody hated me for not hunting;—and as I could not very well afford +it, I was not considered to be entering a protest against the +amusement. As it is now I find that unless I consent to risk my neck +at any rate five or six times every winter, I shall be regarded in +that light."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be frightened into doing anything I didn't like," said +Mary.</p> + +<p>"How do you know that I shan't like it? The truth is I have had a +letter this morning from a benevolent philosopher which has almost +settled the question for me. He wants me to join a society for the +suppression of British sports as being barbarous and antipathetic to +the intellectual pursuits of an educated man. I would immediately +shoot, fish, hunt and go out ratting, if I could hope for the least +success. I know I should never shoot anything but the dog and the +gamekeepers, and that I should catch every weed in the river; but I +think that in the process of seasons I might jump over a hedge."</p> + +<p>"Kate will show you the way to do that."</p> + +<p>"With Kate and Mr. Twentyman to help me, and a judicious system of +liberal tips to Tony Tuppett, I could make my way about on a quiet +old nag, and live respected by my neighbours. The fact is I hate with +my whole heart the trash of the philanimalist."</p> + +<p>"What is a—a—I didn't quite catch the thing you hate?"</p> + +<p>"The thing is a small knot of self-anxious people who think that they +possess among them all the bowels of the world."</p> + +<p>"Possess all the what, Reginald?"</p> + +<p>"I said bowels,—using an ordinary but very ill-expressed metaphor. +The ladies and gentlemen to whom I allude, not looking very clearly +into the systems of pains and pleasures in accordance with which we +have to live, put their splay feet down now upon this ordinary +operation and now upon that, and call upon the world to curse the +cruelty of those who will not agree with them. A lady whose tippet is +made from the skins of twenty animals who have been wired in the snow +and then left to die of <span class="nowrap">starvation—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Reginald!"</p> + +<p>"That is the way of it. I am not now saying whether it is right or +wrong. The lady with the tippet will justify the wires and the +starvation because, as she will say, she uses the fur. An honest +blanket would keep her just as warm. But the fox who suffers perhaps +ten minutes of agony should he not succeed as he usually does in +getting away,—is hunted only for amusement! It is true that the one +fox gives amusement for hours to perhaps some hundred;—but it is +only for amusement. What riles me most is that these would-be +philosophers do not or will not see that recreation is as necessary +to the world as clothes or food, and the providing of the one is as +legitimate a business as the purveying of the other."</p> + +<p>"People must eat and wear clothes."</p> + +<p>"And practically they must be amused. They ignore the great doctrine +of 'tanti.'"</p> + +<p>"I never heard of it."</p> + +<p>"You shall, dear, some day. It is the doctrine by which you should +regulate everything you do and every word you utter. Now do you and +Kate put on your hats and we'll walk to the bridge."</p> + +<p>This preaching of a sermon took place after breakfast at Bragton on +the morning of Saturday, and the last order had reference to a scheme +they had on foot to see the meet at the old kennels. On the previous +afternoon Reginald Morton had come into Dillsborough and had very +quietly settled everything with the attorney. Having made up his mind +to do the thing he was very quick in the doing of it. He hated the +idea of secrecy in such an affair, and when Mrs. Masters asked him +whether he had any objection to have the marriage talked about, +expressed his willingness that she should employ the town crier to +make it public if she thought it expedient. "Oh, Mr. Morton, how very +funny you are," said the lady. "Quite in earnest, Mrs. Masters," he +replied. Then he kissed the two girls who were to be his sisters, and +finished the visit by carrying off the younger to spend a day or two +with her sister at Bragton. "I know," he said, whispering to Mary as +he left the front door, "that I ought not to go out hunting so soon +after my poor cousin's death; but as he was a cousin once removed, I +believe I may walk as far as the bridge without giving offence."</p> + +<p>When they were there they saw all the arrivals just as they were seen +on the same spot a few months earlier by a very different party. Mary +and Kate stood on the bridge together, while he remained a little +behind leaning on the stile. She, poor girl, had felt some shame in +showing herself, knowing that some who were present would have heard +of her engagement, and that others would be told of it as soon as she +was seen. "Are you ashamed of what you are going to do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Ashamed! I don't suppose that there is a girl in England so proud as +I am at this minute."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that there is anything to be proud of, but if you are +not ashamed, why shouldn't you show yourself? Marriage is an +honourable state!" She could only pinch his arm, and do as he bade +her.</p> + +<p>Glomax in his tandem, and Lord Rufford in his drag, were rather late. +First there came one or two hunting men out of the town, Runciman, +Dr. Nupper, and the hunting saddler. Then there arrived Henry +Stubbings with a string of horses, mounted by little boys, ready for +his customers, and full of wailing to his friend Runciman. Here was +nearly the end of March and the money he had seen since Christmas was +little more, as he declared, than what he could put into his eye and +see none the worse. "Charge 'em ten per cent. interest," said +Runciman. "Then they thinks they can carry on for another year," said +Stubbings despondingly. While this was going on, Larry walked his +favourite mare "Bicycle" on to the ground, dressed with the utmost +care, but looking very moody, almost fierce, as though he did not +wish anybody to speak to him. Tony Tuppett, who had known him since a +boy, nodded at him affectionately, and said how glad he was to see +him;—but even this was displeasing to Larry. He did not see the +girls on the bridge, but took up his place near them. He was thinking +so much of his own unhappiness and of what he believed others would +say of him, that he saw almost nothing. There he sat on his mare, +carrying out the purpose to which he had been led by Mary's message, +but wishing with all his heart that he was back again, hidden within +his own house at the other side of the wood.</p> + +<p>Mary, as soon as she saw him, blushed up to her eyes, then turning +round looked with wistful eyes into the face of the man she was +engaged to marry, and with rapid step walked across the bridge up to +the side of Larry's horse, and spoke to him with her sweet low voice. +"Larry," she said. He turned round to her very quickly, showing how +much he was startled. Then she put up her hand to him, and of course +he took it. "Larry, I am so glad to see you. Did papa give you a +message?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Masters. He told me, I know it all."</p> + +<p>"Say a kind word to me, Larry."</p> + +<p>"I—I—I—You know very well what's in my mind. Though it were to +kill me, I should wish you well."</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll have a good hunt, Larry." Then she retired back to the +bridge and again looked to her lover to know whether he would +approve. There were so few there, and Larry had been so far apart +from the others, that she was sure no one had heard the few words +which had passed between them; nor could anyone have observed what +she had done, unless it were old Nupper, or Mr. Runciman, or Tony +Tuppett. But yet she thought that it perhaps was bold, and that he +would be angry. But he came up to her, and placing himself between +her and Kate, whispered into her ear, "Bravely done, my girl. After a +little I will try to be as brave, but I could never do it as well." +Larry in the meantime had moved his mare away, and before the Master +had arrived, was walking slowly up his own road to Chowton Farm.</p> + +<p>The Captain was soon there, and Lord Rufford with his friends, and +Harry Stubbings' string, and Tony were set in motion. But before they +stirred there was a consultation,—to which Bean the gamekeeper was +called,—as to the safety of Dillsborough Wood. Dillsborough Wood had +not been drawn yet since Scrobby's poison had taken effect on the old +fox, and there were some few who affected to think that there still +might be danger. Among these was the Master himself, who asked Fred +Botsey with a sneer whether he thought that such hounds as those were +to be picked up at every corner. But Bean again offered to eat any +herring that might be there, poison included, and Lord Rufford +laughed at the danger. "It's no use my having foxes, Glomax, if you +won't draw the cover." This the Lord said with a touch of anger, and +the Lord's anger, if really roused, might be injurious. It was +therefore decided that the hounds should again be put through the +Bragton shrubberies,—just for compliment to the new squire;—and +that then they should go off to Dillsborough Wood as rapidly as might +be.</p> + +<p>Larry walked his beast all the way up home very slowly, and getting +off her, put her into the stable and went into the house.</p> + +<p>"Is anything wrong?" asked the mother.</p> + +<p>"Everything is wrong." Then he stood with his back to the kitchen +fire for nearly half an hour without speaking a word. He was trying +to force himself to follow out her idea of manliness, and telling +himself that it was impossible. The first tone of her voice, the +first glance at her face, had driven him home. Why had she called him +Larry again and again, so tenderly, in that short moment, and looked +at him with those loving eyes? Then he declared to himself, without +uttering a word, that she did not understand anything about it; she +did not comprehend the fashion of his love when she thought, as she +did think, that a soft word would be compensation. He looked round to +see if his mother or the servant were there, and when he found that +the coast was clear, he dashed his hands to his eyes and knocked away +the tears. He threw up both his arms and groaned, and then he +remembered her message, "Bid him be a man."</p> + +<p>At that moment he heard the sound of horses, and going near the +window, so as to be hidden from curious eyes as they passed, he saw +the first whip trot on, with the hounds after him, and Tony Tuppett +among them. Then there was a long string of horsemen, all moving up +to the wood, and a carriage or two, and after them the stragglers of +the field. He let them all go by, and then he repeated the words +again, "Bid him be a man." He took up his hat, jammed it on his head, +and went out into the yard. As he crossed to the stables Runciman +came up alone. "Why, Larry, you'll be late," he said.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Runciman, I'll follow."</p> + +<p>"I'll wait till you are mounted. You'll be better for somebody with +you. You've got the mare, have you? You'll show some of them your +heels if they get away from here. Is she as fast as she was last +year, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I don't know," said Larry, as he dragged himself into +the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Shake yourself, old fellow, and don't carry on like that. What is +she after all but a girl?" The poor fellow looked at his intending +comforter, but couldn't speak a word. "A man shouldn't let hisself be +put upon by circumstances so as to be only half hisself. Hang it, +man, cheer up, and don't let 'em see you going about like that. It +ain't what a fellow of your kidney ought to be. If they haven't found +I'm a nigger,—and by the holy he's away. Come along Larry and forget +the petticoats for half an hour." So saying, Runciman broke into a +gallop, and Larry's mare doing the same, he soon passed the innkeeper +and was up at the covert side just as Tony Tuppett with half a score +of hounds round him, was forcing his way through the bushes, out of +the coverts into the open field. "There ain't no poison this time, +Mr. Twentyman," said the huntsman, as, setting his eye on a gap in +the further fence, he made his way across the field.</p> + +<p>The fox headed away for a couple of miles towards Impington, as was +the custom with the Dillsborough foxes, and then turning to the left +was soon over the country borders into Ufford. The pace from the +first starting was very good. Larry, under such provocation as that +of course would ride, and he did ride. Up as far as the country +brook, many were well up. The land was no longer deep; and as the +field had not been scattered at the starting, all the men who usually +rode were fairly well placed as they came to the brook; but it was +acknowledged afterwards that Larry was over it the first. Glomax got +into it,—as he always does into brooks, and young Runce hurt his +horse's shoulder at the opposite bank. Lord Rufford's horse balked +it, to the Lord's disgust; but took it afterwards, not losing very +much ground. Tony went in and out, the crafty old dog knowing the one +bit of hard ground. Then they crossed Purbeck field, as it is still +called—which, twenty years since was a wide waste of land, but is +now divided by new fences, very grievous to half-blown horses. Sir +John Purefoy got a nasty fall over some stiff timber, and here many a +half-hearted rider turned to the right into the lane. Hampton and his +Lordship, and Battersby, with Fred Botsey and Larry, took it all as +it came, but through it all not one of them could give Larry a lead. +Then there was manœuvring into a wood and out of it again, and +that saddest of all sights to the riding man, a cloud of horsemen on +the road as well placed as though they had ridden the line +throughout. In getting out of the road Hampton's horse slipped up +with him, and, though he saw it all, he was never able again to +compete for a place. The fox went through the Hampton Wick coverts +without hanging a moment, just throwing the hounds for two minutes +off their scent at the gravel pits. The check was very useful to +Tony, who had got his second horse and came up sputtering, begging +the field for <span class="nowrap">G——'s</span> sake +to be,—in short to be anywhere but where +they were. Then they were off again down the hill to the left, +through Mappy springs and along the top of Ilveston copse, every yard +of which is grass,—till the number began to be select. At last in a +turnip field, three yards from the fence, they turned him over, and +Tony, as he jumped off his horse among the hounds, acknowledged to +himself that Larry might have had his hand first upon the animal had +he cared to do so.</p> + +<p>"Twentyman, I'll give you two hundred for your mare," said Lord +Rufford.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my Lord, there are two things that would about kill me."</p> + +<p>"What are they, Larry?" asked Harry Stubbings.</p> + +<p>"To offend his Lordship, or to part with the mare."</p> + +<p>"You shall do neither," said Lord Rufford; "but upon my word I think +she's the fastest thing in this county." All of which did not cure +poor Larry, but it helped to enable him to be a man.</p> + +<p>The fox had been killed close to Norrington, and the run was +remembered with intense gratification for many a long day after. +"It's that kind of thing that makes hunting beat everything else," +said Lord Rufford, as he went home. That day's sport certainly had +been "tanti," and Glomax and the two counties boasted of it for the +next three years.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-20" id="c3-20"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> +<h3>BENEDICT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Penwether declared to her husband that she had never seen her +brother so much cowed as he had been by Miss Trefoil's visit to +Rufford. It was not only that he was unable to assert his usual +powers immediately after the attack made upon him, but that on the +following day, at Scrobby's trial, on the Saturday when he started to +the meet, and on the Sunday following when he allowed himself to be +easily persuaded to go to church, he was silent, sheepish, and +evidently afraid of himself. "It is a great pity that we shouldn't +take the ball at the hop," she said to Sir George.</p> + +<p>"What ball;—and what hop?"</p> + +<p>"Get him to settle himself. There ought to be an end to this kind of +thing now. He has got out of this mess, but every time it becomes +worse and worse, and he'll be taken in horribly by some harpy if we +don't get him to marry decently. I fancy he was very nearly going in +this last affair." Sir George, in this matter, did not quite agree +with his wife. It was in his opinion right to avoid Miss Trefoil, but +he did not see why his brother-in-law should be precipitated into +matrimony with Miss Penge. According to his ideas in such matters a +man should be left alone. Therefore, as was customary with him when +he opposed his wife, he held his tongue. "You have been called in +three or four times when he has been just on the edge of the cliff."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that that is any reason why he should be pushed over."</p> + +<p>"There is not a word to be said against Caroline. She has a fine +fortune of her own, and some of the best blood in the kingdom."</p> + +<p>"But if your brother does not care for her,—"</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense, George. As for liking, it's all the same to him. +Rufford is good-natured, and easily pleased, and can like any woman. +Caroline is very good-looking,—a great deal handsomer than that +horrid creature ever was,—and with manners fit for any position. +I've no reason to wish to force a wife on him; but of course he'll +marry, and unless he's guided, he'll certainly marry badly."</p> + +<p>"Is Miss Penge in love with him?" asked Sir George in a tone of voice +that was intended to be provoking. His wife looked at him, asking him +plainly by her countenance whether he was such a fool as that? Was it +likely that any untitled young lady of eight-and-twenty should be +wanting in the capacity of being in love with a young lord, handsome +and possessed of forty thousand a year without encumbrances? Sir +George, though he did not approve, was not eager enough in his +disapproval to lay any serious embargo on his wife's proceedings.</p> + +<p>The first steps taken were in the direction of the hero's personal +comfort. He was flattered and petted, as his sister knew how to +flatter and pet him;—and Miss Penge in a quiet way assisted Lady +Penwether in the operation. For a day or two he had not much to say +for himself;—but every word he did say was an oracle. His horses +were spoken of as demigods, and his projected fishing operations for +June and July became matters of most intense interest. Evil things +were said of Arabella Trefoil, but in all the evil things said no +hint was given that Lord Rufford had behaved badly or had been in +danger. Lady Penwether, not quite knowing the state of his mind, +thought that there might still be some lurking affection for the +young lady. "Did you ever see anybody look so vulgar and hideous as +she did when she marched across the park?" asked Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness I did not see her," said Miss Penge.</p> + +<p>"I never saw her look so handsome as when she came up to me," said +Lord Rufford.</p> + +<p>"But such a thing to do!"</p> + +<p>"Awful!" said Miss Penge.</p> + +<p>"She is the pluckiest girl I ever came across in my life," said Lord +Rufford. He knew very well what they were at, and was already almost +inclined to think that they might as well be allowed to have their +way. Miss Penge was ladylike, quiet, and good, and was like a cool +salad in a man's mouth after spiced meat. And the money would enable +him to buy the Purefoy property which would probably be soon in the +market. But he felt that he might as well give them a little trouble +before he allowed himself to be hooked. It certainly was not by any +arrangement of his own that he found himself walking alone with Miss +Penge that Sunday afternoon in the park;—nor did it seem to be by +hers. He thought of that other Sunday at Mistletoe, when he had been +compelled to wander with Arabella, when he met the Duchess, and when, +as he often told himself, a little more good-nature or a little more +courage on her grace's part would have completed the work entirely. +Certainly had the Duke come to him that night, after the journey from +Stamford, he would have capitulated. As he walked along and allowed +himself to be talked to by Miss Penge, he did tell himself that she +would be the better angel of the two. She could not hunt with him, as +Arabella would have done; but then a man does not want his wife to +gallop across the country after him. She might perhaps object to +cigars and soda water after eleven o'clock, but then what assurance +had he that Arabella would not have objected still more loudly. She +had sworn that she would never be opposed to his little pleasures; +but he knew what such oaths were worth. Marriage altogether was a +bore; but having a name and a large fortune, it was incumbent on him +to transmit them to an immediate descendant. And perhaps it was a +worse bore to grow old without having specially bound any other human +being to his interests. "How well I recollect that spot," said Miss +Penge. "It was there that Major Caneback took the fence."</p> + +<p>"That was not where he fell."</p> + +<p>"Oh no;—I did not see that. It would have haunted me for ever had I +done so. But it was there that I thought he must kill himself. That +was a terrible time, Lord Rufford."</p> + +<p>"Terrible to poor Caneback certainly."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and to all of us. Do you remember that fearful ball? We were +all so unhappy,—because you suffered so much."</p> + +<p>"It was bad."</p> + +<p>"And that woman who persecuted you! We all knew that you felt it."</p> + +<p>"I felt that poor man's death."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—and you felt the other nuisance too."</p> + +<p>"I remember that you told me that you would cling on to my legs."</p> + +<p>"Eleanor said so;—and when it was explained to me, what clinging on +to your legs meant, I remember saying that I wished to be understood +as being one to help. I love your sister so well that anything which +would break her heart would make me unhappy."</p> + +<p>"You did not care for my own welfare in the matter?"</p> + +<p>"What ought I say, Lord Rufford, in answer to that? Of course I did +care. But I knew that it was impossible that you should really set +your affections on such a person as Miss Trefoil. I told Eleanor that +it would come to nothing. I was sure of it."</p> + +<p>"Why should it have come to nothing,—as you call it?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are a gentleman and because she—is not a lady. I don't +know that we women can quite understand how it is that you men amuse +yourselves with such persons."</p> + +<p>"I didn't amuse myself."</p> + +<p>"I never thought you did very much. There was something I suppose in +her riding, something in her audacity, something perhaps in her +vivacity;—but through it all I did not think that you were enjoying +yourself. You may be sure of this, Lord Rufford, that when a woman is +not specially liked by any other woman, she ought not to be specially +liked by any man. I have never heard that Miss Trefoil had a female +friend."</p> + +<p>From day to day there were little meetings and conversations of this +kind till Lord Rufford found himself accustomed to Miss Penge's +solicitude for his welfare. In all that passed between them the lady +affected a status that was altogether removed from that of making or +receiving love. There had come to be a peculiar friendship,—because +of Eleanor. A week of this kind of thing had not gone by before Miss +Penge found herself able to talk of and absolutely to describe this +peculiar feeling, and could almost say how pleasant was such +friendship, divested of the burden of all amatory possibilities. But +through it all Lord Rufford knew that he would have to marry Miss +Penge.</p> + +<p>It was not long before he yielded in pure weariness. Who has not +felt, as he stood by a stream into which he knew that it was his fate +to plunge, the folly of delaying the shock? In his present condition +he had no ease. His sister threatened him with a return of Arabella. +Miss Penge required from him sensational conversation. His +brother-in-law was laughing at him in his sleeve. His very hunting +friends treated him as though the time were come. In all that he did +the young lady took an interest which bored him excessively,—to put +an end to which he only saw one certain way. He therefore asked her +to be Lady Rufford before he got on his drag to go out hunting on the +last Saturday in March. "Rufford," she said, looking up into his face +with her lustrous eyes, and speaking with a sweet, low, silvery +voice,—"are you sure of yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes."</p> + +<p>"Quite sure of yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Never so sure in my life."</p> + +<p>"Then dearest, dearest Rufford, I will not scruple to say that I also +am sure." And so the thing was settled very much to his comfort. He +could hardly have done better had he sought through all England for a +bride. She will be true to him, and never give him cause for a +moment's jealousy. She will like his title, his house, and his +property. She will never spend a shilling more than she ought to do. +She will look very sharply after him, but will not altogether debar +him from his accustomed pleasures. She will grace his table, nurse +his children, and never for a moment give him cause to be ashamed of +her. He will think that he loves her, and after a lapse of ten or +fifteen years will probably really be fond of her. From the moment +that she is Lady Rufford, she will love him,—as she loves everything +that is her own.</p> + +<p>In spite of all his antecedents no one doubted his faith in this +engagement;—no one wished to hurry him very much. When the +proposition had been made and accepted, and when the hero of it had +gone off on his drag, Miss Penge communicated the tidings to her +friend. "I think he has behaved very wisely," said Lady Penwether.</p> + +<p>"Well;—feeling as I do of course I think he has. I hope he thinks +the same of me. I had many doubts about it, but I do believe that I +can make him a good wife." Lady Penwether thought that her friend was +hardly sufficiently thankful, and strove to tell her so in her own +gentle, friendly way. But Miss Penge held her head up and was very +stout, and would not acknowledge any cause for gratitude. Lady +Penwether, when she saw how it was to be gave way a little. Close +friendship with her future sister-in-law would be very necessary to +her comfort, and Miss Penge, since the law-suit was settled, had +never been given to yielding.</p> + +<p>"My dear Rufford," said the sister affectionately, "I congratulate +you with all my heart; I do indeed. I am quite sure that you could +not have done better."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I could."</p> + +<p>"She is a gem of inestimable price, and most warmly attached to you. +And if this property is to be bought, of course the money will be a +great thing."</p> + +<p>"Money is always comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Of course it is, and then there is nothing to be desired. If I had +named the girl that I would have wished you to love, it would have +been Caroline Penge." She need hardly have said this as she had in +fact been naming the girl for the last three or four months. The news +was soon spread about the country and the fashionable world; and +everybody was pleased,—except the Trefoil family.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-21" id="c3-21"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> +<h3>ARABELLA'S SUCCESS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Arabella Trefoil got back to Portugal Street after her visit to +Rufford, she was ill. The effort she had made, the unaccustomed +labour, and the necessity of holding herself aloft before the man who +had rejected her, were together more than her strength could bear, +and she was taken up to bed in a fainting condition. It was not till +the next morning that she was able even to open the letter which +contained the news of John Morton's legacy. When she had read the +letter and realized the contents, she took to weeping in a fashion +very unlike her usual habits. She was still in bed, and there she +remained for two or three days, during which she had time to think of +her past life,—and to think also a little of the future. Old Mrs. +Green came to her once or twice a day, but she was necessarily left +to the nursing of her own maid. Every evening Mounser Green called +and sent up tender enquiries; but in all this there was very little +to comfort her. There she lay with the letter in her hand, thinking +that the only man who had endeavoured to be of service to her was he +whom she had treated with unexampled perfidy. Other men had petted +her, had amused themselves with her, and then thrown her over, had +lied to her and laughed at her, till she had been taught to think +that a man was a heartless, cruel, slippery animal, made indeed to be +caught occasionally, but in the catching of which infinite skill was +wanted, and in which infinite skill might be thrown away. But this +man had been true to her to the last in spite of her treachery!</p> + +<p>She knew that she was heartless herself, and that she belonged to a +heartless world;—but she knew also that there was a world of women +who were not heartless. Such women had looked down upon her as from a +great height, but she in return had been able to ridicule them. They +had chosen their part, and she had chosen hers,—and had thought that +she might climb to the glory of wealth and rank, while they would +have to marry hard-working clergymen and briefless barristers. She +had often been called upon to vindicate to herself the part she had +chosen, and had always done so by magnifying in her own mind the sin +of the men with whom she had to deal. At this moment she thought that +Lord Rufford had treated her villainously, whereas her conduct to him +had been only that which the necessity of the case required. To Lord +Rufford she had simply behaved after the manner of her class, +heartless of course, but only in the way which the "custom of the +trade" justified. Each had tried to circumvent the other, and she as +the weaker had gone to the wall. But John Morton had believed in her +and loved her. Oh, how she wished that she had deserted her class, +and clung to him,—even though she should now have been his widow. +The legacy was a burden to her. Even she had conscience enough to be +sorry for a day or two that he had named her in his will.</p> + +<p>And what would she do with herself for the future? Her quarrel with +her mother had been very serious, each swearing that under no +circumstances would she again consent to live with the other. The +daughter of course knew that the mother would receive her again +should she ask to be received. But in such case she must go back with +shortened pinions and blunted beak. Her sojourn with Mrs. Green was +to last for one month, and at the end of that time she must seek for +a home. If she put John Morton's legacy out to interest, she would +now be mistress of a small income;—but she understood money well +enough to know to what obduracy of poverty she would thus be +subjected. As she looked the matter closer in the face the horrors +became more startling and more manifest. Who would have her in their +houses? Where should she find society,—where the possibility of +lovers? What would be her life, and what her prospects? Must she give +up for ever the game for which she had lived, and own that she had +been conquered in the fight and beaten even to death? Then she +thought over the long list of her past lovers, trying to see whether +there might be one of the least desirable at whom she might again +cast her javelins. But there was not one.</p> + +<p>The tender messages from Mounser Green came to her day by day. +Mounser Green, as the nephew of her hostess, had been very kind to +her; but hitherto he had never appeared to her in the light of a +possible lover. He was a clerk in the Foreign Office, waiting for his +aunt's money;—a man whom she had met in society and whom she knew to +be well thought of by those above him in wealth and rank; but she had +never regarded him as prey,—or as a man whom any girl would want to +marry. He was one of those of the other sex who would most probably +look out for prey,—who, if he married at all, would marry an +heiress. She, in her time, had been on good terms with many such a +one,—had counted them among her intimate friends, had made use of +them and been useful to them,—but she had never dreamed of marrying +any one of them. They were there in society for altogether a +different purpose. She had not hesitated to talk to Mounser Green +about Lord Rufford,—and though she had pretended to make a secret of +the place to which she was going when he had taken her to the +railway, she had not at all objected to his understanding her +purpose. Up to that moment there had certainly been no thought on her +part of transferring what she was wont to call her affections to +Mounser Green as a suitor.</p> + +<p>But as she lay in bed, thinking of her future life, tidings were +brought to her by Mrs. Green that Mounser had accepted the mission to +Patagonia. Could it be that her destiny intended her to go out to +Patagonia as the wife, if not of one minister, then of another? There +would be a career,—a way of living, if not exactly that which she +would have chosen. Of Patagonia, as a place of residence, she had +already formed ideas. In some of those moments in which she had +foreseen that Lord Rufford would be lost to her, she had told herself +that it would be better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven. Among +Patagonian women she would probably be the first. Among English +ladies it did not seem that at present she had prospect of a high +place. It would be long before Lord Rufford would be forgotten,—and +she had not space enough before her for forgettings which would +require time for their accomplishment. Mounser Green had declared +with energy that Lord Rufford had behaved very badly. There are men +who feel it to be their mission to come in for the relief of ladies +who have been badly treated. If Mounser Green wished to be one of +them on her behalf, and to take her out with him to his very far-away +employment, might not this be the best possible solution of her +present difficulties?</p> + +<p>On the evening of the third day after her return she was able to come +down-stairs and the line of thought which has been suggested for her +induced her to undertake some trouble with the white and pink robe, +or dressing-gown in which she had appeared. "Well, my dear, you are +smart," the old lady said.</p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0"><tr><td> +"'Odious in woollen;—'twould a saint provoke,<br /> + Were the last words which poor Narcissa spoke.'" +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p class="noindent">said Arabella, +who had long since provided herself with this +quotation for such occasions. "I hope I am not exactly dying, Mrs. +Green; but I don't see why I should not object to be 'frightful,' as +well as the young lady who was."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's all done for Mounser's benefit?"</p> + +<p>"Partly for you, partly for Mounser, and a good deal for myself. What +a very odd name. Why did they call him Mounser? I used to think it +was because he was in the Foreign Office,—a kind of chaff, as being +half a Frenchman."</p> + +<p>"My mother's maiden name was Mounser, and it isn't French at all. I +don't see why it should not be as good a Christian name as Willoughby +or Howard."</p> + +<p>"Quite as good, and much more distinctive. There can't be another +Mounser Green in the world."</p> + +<p>"And very few other young men like him. At my time of life I find it +very hard his going away. And what will he do in such a place as +that,—all alone and without a wife?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you make him take a wife?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't time now. He'll have to start in May."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of time. Trousseaus are now got up by steam, and girls are +kept ready to marry at the shortest notice. If I were you I should +certainly advise him to take out some healthy young woman, capable of +bearing the inclemencies of the Patagonian climate."</p> + +<p>"As for that the climate is delicious," said Mrs. Green, who +certainly was not led by her guest's manner to suspect the nature of +her guest's more recent intentions.</p> + +<p>Mounser Green on this afternoon came to Portugal Street before he +himself went out to dinner, choosing the hour at which his aunt was +wont to adorn herself. "And so you are to be the hero of Patagonia?" +said Arabella as she put out her hand to congratulate him on his +appointment.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about heroism, but it seems that I am to go there," +said Mounser with much melancholy in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought you were the last man to leave London +willingly."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; I should have said so myself. And I do flatter myself I +shall be missed. But what had I before me here? This may lead to +something."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you will be missed, Mr. Green."</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you to say so."</p> + +<p>"Patagonia! It is such a long way off!" Then she began to consider +whether he had ever heard of her engagement with the last +Minister-elect to that country. That he should know all about Lord +Rufford was a matter of course; but what chance could there be for +her if he also knew that other affair? "We were intimately acquainted +with Mr. Morton in Washington and were surprised that he should have +accepted it."</p> + +<p>"Poor Morton. He was a friend of mine. We used to call him the +Paragon because he never made mistakes. I had heard that you and Lady +Augusta were a good deal with him in Washington."</p> + +<p>"We were, indeed. You do not know my good news as yet, I suppose. +Your Paragon, as you call him, has left me five thousand pounds." Of +course it would be necessary that he should know it some day if this +new plan of hers were to be carried out;—and if the plan should +fail, his knowing it could do no harm.</p> + +<p>"How very nice for you. Poor Morton!"</p> + +<p>"It is well that somebody should behave well, when others treat one +so badly, Mr. Green. Yes; he has left me five thousand pounds." Then +she showed him the lawyer's letter. "Perhaps as I am so separated at +present from all my own people by this affair with Lord Rufford, you +would not mind seeing the man for me." Of course he promised to see +the lawyer and to do everything that was necessary. "The truth is, +Mr. Green, Mr. Morton was very warmly attached to me. I was a foolish +girl, and could not return it. I thought of it long and was then +obliged to tell him that I could not entertain just that sort of +feeling for him. You cannot think now how bitter is my regret;—that +I should have allowed myself to trust a man so false and treacherous +as Lord Rufford, and that I should have perhaps added a pang to the +deathbed of one so good as Mr. Morton." And so she told her little +story;—not caring very much whether it were believed or not, but +finding it to be absolutely essential that some story should be told.</p> + +<p>During the next day or two Mounser Green thought a great deal about +it. That the story was not exactly true, he knew very well. But it is +not to be expected that a girl before her marriage should be exactly +true about her old loves. That she had been engaged to Lord Rufford +and had been cruelly jilted by him he did believe. That she had at +one time been engaged to the Paragon he was almost sure. The fact +that the Paragon had left her money was a strong argument that she +had not behaved badly to him. But there was much that was quite +certain. The five thousand pounds were quite certain; and the money, +though it could not be called a large fortune for a young lady, would +pay his debts and send him out a free man to Patagonia. And the +family honours were certainly true. She was the undoubted niece of +the Duke of Mayfair, and such a connection might in his career be of +service to him. Lord Mistletoe was a prig, but would probably be a +member of the Government. Mounser Green liked Dukes, and loved a +Duchess in his heart of hearts. If he could only be assured that this +niece would not be repudiated he thought that the speculation might +answer in spite of any ambiguity in the lady's antecedents.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard about Arabella's good fortune?" young Glossop asked +the next morning at the office.</p> + +<p>"You forget, my boy," said Mounser Green, "that the young lady of +whom you speak is a friend of mine."</p> + +<p>"Oh lord! So I did. I beg your pardon, old fellow." There was no one +else in the room at the moment, and Glossop in asking the question +had in truth forgotten what he had heard of this new intimacy.</p> + +<p>"Don't you learn to be ill-natured, Glossop. And remember that there +is no form so bad as that of calling young ladies by their Christian +names. I do know that poor Morton has left Miss Trefoil a sum of +money which is at any rate evidence that he thought well of her to +the last."</p> + +<p>"Of course it is. I didn't mean to offend you. I wouldn't do it for +worlds,—as you are going away." That afternoon, when Green's back +was turned, Glossop gave it as his opinion that something particular +would turn up between Mounser and Miss Trefoil, an opinion which +brought down much ridicule upon him from both Hoffmann and Archibald +Currie. But before that week was over,—in the early days of +April,—they were forced to retract their opinion and to do honour to +young Glossop's sagacity. Mounser Green was engaged to Miss Trefoil, +and for a day or two the Foreign Office could talk of nothing else.</p> + +<p>"A very handsome girl," said Lord Drummond to one of his +subordinates. "I met her at Mistletoe. As to that affair with Lord +Rufford, he treated her abominably." And when Mounser showed himself +at the office, which he did boldly, immediately after the engagement +was made known, they all received him with open arms and +congratulated him sincerely on his happy fortune. He himself was +quite contented with what he had done and thought that he was taking +out for himself the very wife for Patagonia.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-22" id="c3-22"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> +<h3>THE WEDDING.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>No sooner did the new two lovers, Mounser Green and Arabella Trefoil, +understand each other, than they set their wits to work to make the +best of their natural advantages. The latter communicated the fact in +a very dry manner to her father and mother. Nothing was to be got +from them, and it was only just necessary that they should know what +she intended to do with herself. "My dear mamma. I am to be married +some time early in May to Mr. Mounser Green of the Foreign Office. I +don't think you know him, but I daresay you have heard of him. He +goes to Patagonia immediately after the wedding, and I shall go with +him. Your affectionate daughter, Arabella Trefoil." That was all she +said, and the letter to her father was word for word the same. But +how to make use of those friends who were more happily circumstanced +was matter for frequent counsel between her and Mr. Green. In these +days I do not think that she concealed very much from him. To tell +him all the little details of her adventures with Lord Rufford would +have been neither useful nor pleasant; but, as to the chief facts, +reticence would have been foolish. To the statement that Lord Rufford +had absolutely proposed to her she clung fast, and really did believe +it herself. That she had been engaged to John Morton she did not +deny; but she threw the blame of that matter on her mother, and +explained to him that she had broken off the engagement down at +Bragton, because she could not bring herself to regard the man with +sufficient personal favour. Mounser was satisfied, but was very +strong in urging her to seek, yet once again, the favour of her +magnificent uncle and her magnificent aunt.</p> + +<p>"What good can they do us?" said Arabella, who was almost afraid to +make the appeal.</p> + +<p>"It would be everything for you to be married from Mistletoe," he +said. "People would know then that you were not blamed about Lord +Rufford. And it might serve me very much in my profession. These +things do help very much. It would cost us nothing, and the proper +kind of notice would then get into the newspapers. If you will write +direct to the Duchess, I will get at the Duke through Lord Drummond. +They know where we are going, and that we are not likely to want +anything else for a long time."</p> + +<p>"I don't think the Duchess would have mamma if it were ever so."</p> + +<p>"Then we must drop your mother for the time;—that's all. When my +aunt hears that you are to be married from the Duke's, she will be +quite willing that you should remain with her till you go down to +Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>Arabella, who perhaps knew a little more than her lover, could not +bring herself to believe that the appeal would be successful, but she +made it. It was a very difficult letter to write, as she could not +but allude to the rapid transference of her affections. "I will not +conceal from you," she said, "that I have suffered very much from +Lord Rufford's heartless conduct. My misery has been aggravated by +the feeling that you and my uncle will hardly believe him to be so +false, and will attribute part of the blame to me. I had to undergo +an agonizing revulsion of feeling, during which Mr. Green's behaviour +to me was at first so considerate and then so kind that it has gone +far to cure the wound from which I have been suffering. He is so well +known in reference to foreign affairs, that I think my uncle cannot +but have heard of him; my cousin Mistletoe is certainly acquainted +with him; and I think that you cannot but approve of the match. You +know what is the position of my father and my mother, and how little +able they are to give us any assistance. If you would be kind enough +to let us be married from Mistletoe, you will confer on both of us a +very, very great favour." There was more of it, but that was the +first of the prayer, and most of the words given above came from the +dictation of Mounser himself. She had pleaded against making the +direct request, but he had assured her that in the world, as at +present arranged, the best way to get a thing is to ask for it. "You +make yourself at any rate understood," he said, "and you may be sure +that people who receive petitions do not feel the hardihood of them +so much as they who make them." Arabella, comforting herself by +declaring that the Duchess at any rate could not eat her, wrote the +letter and sent it.</p> + +<p>The Duchess at first was most serious in her intention to refuse. She +was indeed made very angry by the request. Though it had been agreed +at Mistletoe that Lord Rufford had behaved badly, the Duchess was +thoroughly well aware that Arabella's conduct had been abominable. +Lord Rufford probably had made an offer, but it had been extracted +from him by the vilest of manœuvres. The girl had been personally +insolent to herself. And this rapid change, this third engagement +within a few weeks,—was disgusting to her as a woman. But, unluckily +for herself, she would not answer the letter till she had consulted +her husband. As it happened the Duke was in town, and while he was +there Lord Drummond got hold of him. Lord Drummond had spoken very +highly of Mounser Green, and the Duke, who was never dead to the +feeling that as the head of the family he should always do what he +could for the junior branches, had almost made a promise. "I never +take such things upon myself," he said, "but if the Duchess has no +objection, we will have them down to Mistletoe."</p> + +<p>"Of course if you wish it," said the Duchess,—with more acerbity in +her tone than the Duke had often heard there.</p> + +<p>"Wish it? What do you mean by wishing it? It will be a great bore."</p> + +<p>"Terrible!"</p> + +<p>"But she is the only one there is, and then we shall have done with +it."</p> + +<p>"Done with it! They will be back from Patagonia before you can turn +yourself, and then of course we must have them here."</p> + +<p>"Drummond tells me that Mr. Green is one of the most useful men they +have at the Foreign Office;—just the man that one ought to give a +lift to." Of course the Duke had his way. The Duchess could not bring +herself to write the letter, but the Duke wrote to his dear niece +saying that "they" would be very glad to see her, and that if she +would name the day proposed for the wedding, one should be fixed for +her visit to Mistletoe.</p> + +<p>"You had better tell your mother and your father," Mounser said to +her.</p> + +<p>"What's the use? The Duchess hates my mother, and my father never +goes near the place."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless tell them. People care a great deal for appearances." +She did as she was bid, and the result was that Lord Augustus and his +wife, on the occasion of their daughter's marriage, met each other at +Mistletoe,—for the first time for the last dozen years.</p> + +<p>Before the day came round Arabella was quite astonished to find how +popular and fashionable her wedding was likely to be, and how the +world at large approved of what she was doing. The newspapers had +paragraphs about alliances and noble families, and all the relatives +sent tribute. There was a gold candlestick from the Duke, a gilt dish +from the Duchess,—which came however without a word of personal +congratulation,—and a gorgeous set of scent-bottles from cousin +Mistletoe. The Connop Greens were lavish with sapphires, the De +Brownes with pearls, and the Smijths with opal. Mrs. Gore sent a huge +carbuncle which Arabella strongly suspected to be glass. From her +paternal parent there came a pair of silver nut-crackers, and from +the maternal a second-hand dressing-case newly done up. Old Mrs. +Green gave her a couple of ornamental butter-boats, and salt-cellars +innumerable came from distant Greens. But there was a diamond +ring—with a single stone,—from a friend, without a name, which she +believed to be worth all the rest in money value. Should she send it +back to Lord Rufford, or make a gulp and swallow it? How invincible +must be the good-nature of the man when he could send her such a +present after such a rating as she had given him in the park at +Rufford! "Do as you like," Mounser Green said when she consulted him.</p> + +<p>She very much wished to keep it. "But what am I to say, and to whom?"</p> + +<p>"Write a note to the jewellers saying that you have got it." She did +write to the jeweller saying that she had got the ring,—"from a +friend;" and the ring with the other tribute went to Patagonia. He +had certainly behaved very badly to her, but she was quite sure that +he would never tell the story of the ring to any one. Perhaps she +thought that as she had spared him in the great matter of eight +thousand pounds, she was entitled to take this smaller contribution.</p> + +<p>It was late in April when she went down to Mistletoe, the marriage +having been fixed for the 3rd of May. After that they were to spend a +fortnight in Paris, and leave England for Patagonia at the end of the +month. The only thing which Arabella dreaded was the meeting with the +Duchess. When that was once over she thought that she could bear with +equanimity all that could come after. The week before her marriage +could not be a pleasant week, but then she had been accustomed to +endure evil hours. Her uncle would be blandly good-natured. +Mistletoe, should he be there, would make civil speeches to +compensate for his indifference when called upon to attack Lord +Rufford. Other guests would tender to her the caressing observance +always shown to a bride. But as she got out of the ducal carriage at +the front door, her heart was uneasy at the coming meeting.</p> + +<p>The Duchess herself almost went to bed when the time came, so much +did she dread the same thing. She was quite alone, having felt that +she could not bring herself to give the affectionate embrace which +the presence of others would require. She stood in the middle of the +room and then came forward three steps to meet the bride. "Arabella," +she said, "I am very glad that everything has been settled so +comfortably for you."</p> + +<p>"That is so kind of you, aunt," said Arabella, who was watching the +Duchess closely,—ready to jump into her aunt's arms if required to +do so, or to stand quite aloof.</p> + +<p>Then the Duchess signified her pleasure that her cheek should be +touched,—and it was touched. "Mrs. Pepper will show you your room. +It is the same you had when you were here before. Perhaps you know +that Mr. Green comes down to Stamford on the first, and that he will +dine here on that day and on Sunday."</p> + +<p>"That will be very nice. He had told me how it was arranged."</p> + +<p>"It seems that he knows one of the clergymen in Stamford, and will +stay at his house. Perhaps you will like to go upstairs now."</p> + +<p>That was all there was, and that had not been very bad. During the +entire week the Duchess hardly spoke to her another word, and +certainly did not speak to her a word in private. Arabella now could +go where she pleased without any danger of meeting her aunt on her +walks. When Sunday came nobody asked her to go to church. She did go +twice, Mounser Green accompanying her to the morning service;—but +there was no restraint. The Duchess only thought of her as a +disagreeable ill-conducted incubus, who luckily was about to be taken +away to Patagonia.</p> + +<p>It had been settled on all sides that the marriage was to be very +quiet. The bride was of course consulted about her bridesmaids, as to +whom there was a little difficulty. But a distant Trefoil was found +willing to act, in payment for the unaccustomed invitation to +Mistletoe, and one Connop Green young lady, with one De Browne young +lady, and one Smijth young lady came on the same terms. Arabella +herself was surprised at the ease with which it was all done. On the +Saturday Lady Augustus came, and on the Sunday Lord Augustus. The +parents of course kissed their child, but there was very little said +in the way either of congratulation or farewell. Lord Augustus did +have some conversation with Mounser Green, but it all turned on the +probability of there being whist in Patagonia. On the Monday morning +they were married, and then Arabella was taken off by the happy +bridegroom.</p> + +<p>When the ceremony was over it was expected that Lady Augustus should +take herself away as quickly as possible,—not perhaps on that very +afternoon, but at any rate, on the next morning. As soon as the +carriage was gone, she went to her own room and wept bitterly. It was +all done now. Everything was over. Though she had quarrelled daily +with her daughter for the last twelve years,—to such an extent +lately that no decently civil word ever passed between them,—still +there had been something to interest her. There had been something to +fear and something to hope. The girl had always had some prospect +before her, more or less brilliant. Her life had had its occupation, +and future triumph was possible. Now it was all over. The link by +which she had been bound to the world was broken. The Connop Greens +and the Smijths would no longer have her,—unless it might be on +short and special occasions, as a great favour. She knew that she was +an old woman, without money, without blood, and without attraction, +whom nobody would ever again desire to see. She had her things packed +up, and herself taken off to London, almost without a word of +farewell to the Duchess, telling herself as she went that the world +had produced no other people so heartless as the family of the +Trefoils.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what you will think of Patagonia," said Mounser Green as he +took his bride away.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose I shall think much. As far as I can see one place is +always like another."</p> + +<p>"But then you will have duties."</p> + +<p>"Not very heavy I hope."</p> + +<p>Then he preached her a sermon, expressing a hope as he went on, that +as she was leaving the pleasures of life behind her, she would learn +to like the work of life. "I have found the pleasures very hard," she +said. He spoke to her of the companion he hoped to find, of the +possible children who might be dependent on their mother, of the +position which she would hold, and of the manner in which she should +fill it. She, as she listened to him, was almost stunned by the +change in the world around her. She need never again seem to be gay +in order that men might be attracted. She made her promises and made +them with an intention of keeping them; but it may, we fear, be +doubted whether he was justified in expecting that he could get a +wife fit for his purpose out of the school in which Arabella Trefoil +had been educated. The two, however, will pass out of our sight, and +we can only hope that he may not be disappointed.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-23" id="c3-23"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> +<h3>THE SENATOR'S LECTURE.—NO. I.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Wednesday, April 14th, was the day at last fixed for the Senator's +lecture. His little proposal to set England right on all those +matters in which she had hitherto gone astray had created a +considerable amount of attention. The Goarly affair with the +subsequent trial of Scrobby had been much talked about, and the +Senator's doings in reference to it had been made matter of comment +in the newspapers. Some had praised him for courage, benevolence, and +a steadfast purpose. Others had ridiculed his inability to understand +manners different from those of his own country. He had seen a good +deal of society both in London and in the country, and had never +hesitated to express his opinions with an audacity which some had +called insolence. When he had trodden with his whole weight hard down +on individual corns, of course he had given offence,—as on the +memorable occasion of the dinner at the parson's house in +Dillsborough. But, on the whole, he had produced for himself a +general respect among educated men which was not diminished by the +fact that he seemed to count quite as little on that as on the +ill-will and abuse of others. For some days previous to the delivery +of the lecture the hoardings in London were crowded with +sesquipedalian notices of the entertainment, so that Senator +Gotobed's great oration on "The Irrationality of Englishmen" was +looked to with considerable interest.</p> + +<p>When an intelligent Japanese travels in Great Britain or an +intelligent Briton in Japan, he is struck with no wonder at national +differences. He is on the other hand rather startled to find how like +his strange brother is to him in many things. Crime is persecuted, +wickedness is condoned, and goodness treated with indifference in +both countries. Men care more for what they eat than anything else, +and combine a closely defined idea of meum with a lax perception as +to tuum Barring a little difference of complexion and feature the +Englishman would make a good Japanese, or the Japanese a first-class +Englishman. But when an American comes to us or a Briton goes to the +States, each speaking the same language, using the same cookery, +governed by the same laws, and wearing the same costume, the +differences which present themselves are so striking that neither can +live six months in the country of the other without a holding up of +the hands and a torrent of exclamations. And in nineteen cases out of +twenty the surprise and the ejaculations take the place of censure. +The intelligence of the American, displayed through the nose, worries +the Englishman. The unconscious self-assurance of the Englishman, not +always unaccompanied by a sneer, irritates the American. They meet as +might a lad from Harrow and another from Mr. Brumby's successful +mechanical cramming establishment. The Harrow boy cannot answer a +question, but is sure that he is the proper thing, and is ready to +face the world on that assurance. Mr. Brumby's paragon is shocked at +the other's inaptitude for examination, but is at the same time +tortured by envy of he knows not what. In this spirit we Americans +and Englishmen go on writing books about each other, sometimes with +bitterness enough, but generally with good final results. But in the +meantime there has sprung up a jealousy which makes each inclined to +hate the other at first sight. Hate is difficult and expensive, and +between individuals soon gives place to love. "I cannot bear +Americans as a rule, though I have been very lucky myself with a few +friends." Who in England has not heard that form of speech, over and +over again? And what Englishman has travelled in the States without +hearing abuse of all English institutions uttered amidst the pauses +of a free-handed hospitality which has left him nothing to desire?</p> + +<p>Mr. Senator Gotobed had expressed his mind openly wheresoever he +went, but, being a man of immense energy, was not content with such +private utterances. He could not liberate his soul without doing +something in public to convince his cousins that in their general +practices of life they were not guided by reason. He had no object of +making money. To give him his due we must own that he had no object +of making fame. He was impelled by that intense desire to express +himself which often amounts to passion with us, and sometimes to fury +with Americans, and he hardly considered much what reception his +words might receive. It was only when he was told by others that his +lecture might give offence which possibly would turn to violence, +that he made inquiry as to the attendance of the police. But though +they should tear him to pieces he would say what he had to say. It +should not be his fault if the absurdities of a people whom he really +loved were not exposed to light, so that they might be acknowledged +and abandoned.</p> + +<p>He had found time to travel to Birmingham, to Manchester, to +Liverpool, to Glasgow, and to other places, and really thought that +he had mastered his great subject. He had worked very hard, but was +probably premature in thinking that he knew England thoroughly. He +had, however, undoubtedly dipped into a great many matters, and could +probably have told many Englishmen much that they didn't know about +their own affairs. He had poked his nose everywhere, and had scrupled +to ask no question. He had seen the miseries of a casual ward, the +despair of an expiring strike, the amenities of a city slum, and the +stolid apathy of a rural labourer's home. He had measured the animal +food consumed by the working classes, and knew the exact amount of +alcohol swallowed by the average Briton. He had seen also the luxury +of baronial halls, the pearl-drinking extravagances of commercial +palaces, the unending labours of our pleasure-seekers—as with Lord +Rufford, and the dullness of ordinary country life—as experienced by +himself at Bragton. And now he was going to tell the English people +at large what he thought about it all.</p> + +<p>The great room at St. James's Hall had been secured for the occasion, +and Lord Drummond, the Minister of State in foreign affairs, had been +induced to take the chair. In these days our governments are very +anxious to be civil to foreigners, and there is nothing that a robust +Secretary of State will not do for them. On the platform there were +many members of both Houses of Parliament, and almost everybody +connected with the Foreign Office. Every ticket had been taken for +weeks since. The front benches were filled with the wives and +daughters of those on the platform, and back behind, into the distant +spaces in which seeing was difficult and hearing impossible, the +crowd was gathered at 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a head, all of which was going +to some great British charity. From half-past seven to eight Piccadilly +and Regent Street were crammed, and when the Senator came himself +with his chairman he could hardly make his way in at the doors. A +great treat was expected, but there was among the officers of police +some who thought that a portion of the audience would not bear +quietly the hard things that would be said, and that there was an +uncanny gathering of roughs about the street, who were not prepared +to be on their best behaviour when they should be told that old +England was being abused.</p> + +<p>Lord Drummond opened the proceedings by telling the audience, in a +voice clearly audible to the reporters and the first half-dozen +benches, that they had come there to hear what a well-informed and +distinguished foreigner thought of their country. They would not, he +was sure, expect to be flattered. Than flattery nothing was more +useless or ignoble. This gentleman, coming from a new country, in +which tradition was of no avail, and on which the customs of former +centuries had had no opportunities to engraft themselves, had seen +many things here which, in his eyes, could not justify themselves by +reason. Lord Drummond was a little too prolix for a chairman, and at +last concluded by expressing "his conviction that his countrymen +would listen to the distinguished Senator with that courtesy which +was due to a foreigner and due also to the great and brotherly nation +from which he had come."</p> + +<p>Then the Senator rose, and the clapping of hands and kicking of heels +was most satisfactory. There was at any rate no prejudice at the +onset. "English Ladies and Gentlemen," he said, "I am in the +unenviable position of having to say hard things to you for about an +hour and a half together, if I do not drive you from your seats +before my lecture is done. And this is the more the pity because I +could talk to you for three hours about your country and not say an +unpleasant word. His Lordship has told you that flattery is not my +purpose. Neither is praise, which would not be flattery. Why should I +collect three or four thousand people here to tell them of virtues +the consciousness of which is the inheritance of each of them? You +are brave and generous,—and you are lovely to look at, with sweetly +polished manners; but you know all that quite well enough without my +telling you. But it strikes me that you do not know how little prone +you are to admit the light of reason into either your public or +private life, and how generally you allow yourselves to be guided by +traditions, prejudices, and customs which should be obsolete. If you +will consent to listen to what one foreigner thinks,—though he +himself be a man of no account,—you may perchance gather from his +words something of the opinion of bystanders in general, and so be +able, perhaps a little, to rectify your gait and your costume and the +tones of your voice, as we are all apt to do when we come from our +private homes, out among the eyes of the public."</p> + +<p>This was received very well. The Senator spoke with a clear, sonorous +voice, no doubt with a twang, but so audibly as to satisfy the room +in general. "I shall not," he said, "dwell much on your form of +government. Were I to praise a republic I might seem to belittle your +throne and the lady who sits on it,—an offence which would not be +endured for a moment by English ears. I will take the monarchy as it +is, simply remarking that its recondite forms are very hard to be +understood by foreigners, and that they seem to me to be for the most +part equally dark to natives. I have hardly as yet met two Englishmen +who were agreed as to the political power of the sovereign; and most +of those of whom I have enquired have assured me that the matter is +one as to which they have not found it worth their while to make +inquiry." Here a voice from the end of the hall made some +protestation, but the nature of the protest did not reach the +platform.</p> + +<p>"But," continued the Senator, now rising into energy, "tho' I will +not meddle with your form of government, I may, I hope, be allowed to +allude to the political agents by which it is conducted. You are +proud of your Parliament."</p> + +<p>"We are," said a voice.</p> + +<p>"I wonder of which house. I do not ask the question that it may be +answered, because it is advisable at the present moment that there +should be only one speaker. That labour is, unfortunately for me, at +present in my hands, and I am sure you will agree with me that it +should not be divided. You mean probably that you are proud of your +House of Commons,—and that you are so because it speaks with the +voice of the people. The voice of the people, in order that it may be +heard without unjust preponderance on this side or on that, requires +much manipulation. That manipulation has in latter years been +effected by your Reform bills, of which during the last half century +there have in fact been four or five,—the latter in favour of the +ballot having been perhaps the greatest. There have been bills for +purity of elections,—very necessary; bills for creating +constituencies, bills for abolishing them, bills for dividing them, +bills for extending the suffrage, and bills, if I am not mistaken, +for curtailing it. And what has been the result? How many men are +there in this room who know the respective nature of their votes? And +is there a single woman who knows the political worth of her +husband's vote? Passing the other day from the Bank of this great +metropolis to its suburb called Brentford, journeying as I did the +whole way through continuous rows of houses, I found myself at first +in a very ancient borough returning four members,—double the usual +number,—not because of its population but because it has always been +so. Here I was informed that the residents had little or nothing to +do with it. I was told, though I did not quite believe what I heard, +that there were no residents. The voters however, at any rate the +influential voters, never pass a night there, and combine their city +franchise with franchises elsewhere. I then went through two enormous +boroughs, one so old as to have a great political history of its own, +and the other so new as to have none. It did strike me as odd that +there should be a new borough, with new voters, and new franchises, +not yet ten years old, in the midst of this city of London. But when +I came to Brentford, everything was changed. I was not in a town at +all though I was surrounded on all sides by houses. Everything around +me was grim and dirty enough, but I am supposed to have reached, +politically, the rustic beauties of the country. Those around me, who +had votes, voted for the County of Middlesex. On the other side of +the invisible border I had just past the poor wretch with 3<i>s.</i> a day +who lived in a grimy lodging or a half-built hut, but who at any rate +possessed the political privilege. Now I had suddenly emerged among +the aristocrats, and quite another state of things prevailed. Is that +a reasonable manipulation of the votes of the people? Does that +arrangement give to any man an equal share in his country? And yet I +fancy that the thing is so little thought of that few among you are +aware that in this way the largest class of British labour is +excluded from the franchise in a country which boasts of equal +representation.</p> + +<p>"The chief object of your first Reform Bill was that of realising the +very fact of representation. Up to that time your members of the +House of Commons were in truth deputies of the Lords or of other rich +men. Lord A, or Mr. B, or perhaps Lady C, sent whom she pleased to +Parliament to represent this or that town, or occasionally this or +that county. That absurdity is supposed to be past, and on evils that +have been cured no one should dwell. But how is it now? I have a +list,—in my memory, for I would not care to make out so black a +catalogue in legible letters,—of forty members who have been +returned to the present House of Commons by the single voices of +influential persons. What will not forty voices do even in your +Parliament? And if I can count forty, how many more must there be of +which I have not heard?" Then there was a voice calling upon the +Senator to name those men, and other voices denying the fact. "I will +name no one," said the Senator. "How could I tell what noble friend I +might put on a stool of repentance by doing so?" And he looked round +on the gentlemen on the platform behind him. "But I defy any member +of Parliament here present to get up and say that it is not so." Then +he paused a moment. "And if it be so, is that rational? Is that in +accordance with the theory of representation as to which you have all +been so ardent, and which you profess to be so dear to you? Is the +country not over-ridden by the aristocracy when Lord Lambswool not +only possesses his own hereditary seat in the House of Lords, but +also has a seat for his eldest son in the House of Commons?"</p> + +<p>Then a voice from the back called out, "What the deuce is all that to +you?"</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-24" id="c3-24"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> +<h3>THE SENATOR'S LECTURE.—NO. II.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"If I see a man hungry in the street," said the Senator, instigated +by the question asked him at the end of the last chapter, "and give +him a bit of bread, I don't do it for my own sake but for his." Up to +this time the Britishers around him on the platform and those in the +benches near to him, had received what he said with a good grace. The +allusion to Lord Lambswool had not been pleasant to them, but it had +not been worse than they had expected. But now they were displeased. +They did not like being told that they were taking a bit of bread +from him in their own political destitution. They did not like that +he, an individual, should presume that he had bread to offer to them +as a nation. And yet, had they argued it out in their own minds, they +would have seen that the Senator's metaphor was appropriate. His +purpose in being there was to give advice, and theirs in coming to +listen to it. But it was unfortunate. "When I ventured to come before +you here, I made all this my business," continued the Senator. Then +he paused and glanced round the hall with a defiant look. "And now +about your House of Lords," he went on. "I have not much to say about +the House of Lords, because if I understand rightly the feeling of +this country it is already condemned." "No such thing." "Who told you +that?" "You know nothing about it." These and other words of curt +denial came from the distant corners, and a slight murmur of +disapprobation was heard even from the seats on the platform. Then +Lord Drummond got up and begged that there might be silence. Mr. +Gotobed had come there to tell them his views,—and as they had come +there expressly to listen to him, they could not without impropriety +interrupt him. "That such will be the feeling of the country before +long," continued the Senator, "I think no one can doubt who has +learned how to look to the signs of the times in such matters. Is it +possible that the theory of an hereditary legislature can be defended +with reason? For a legislature you want the best and wisest of your +people." "You don't get them in America," said a voice which was +beginning to be recognised. "We try at any rate," said the Senator. +"Now is it possible that an accident of birth should give you +excellence and wisdom? What is the result? Not a tenth of your +hereditary legislators assemble in the beautiful hall that you have +built for them. And of that tenth the greater half consists of +counsellors of state who have been placed there in order that the +business of the country may not be brought to a standstill. Your +hereditary chamber is a fiction supplemented by the element of +election,—the election resting generally in the very bosom of the +House of Commons." On this subject, although he had promised to be +short, he said much more, which was received for the most part in +silence. But when he ended by telling them that they could have no +right to call themselves a free people till every legislator in the +country was elected by the votes of the people, another murmur was +heard through the hall.</p> + +<p>"I told you," said he waxing more and more energetic, as he felt the +opposition which he was bound to overcome, "that what I had to say to +you would not be pleasant. If you cannot endure to hear me, let us +break up and go away. In that case I must tell my friends at home +that the tender ears of a British audience cannot bear rough words +from American lips. And yet if you think of it we have borne rough +words from you and have borne them with good-humour." Again he +paused, but as none rose from their seats he went on, "Proceeding +from hereditary legislature I come to hereditary property. It is +natural that a man should wish to give to his children after his +death the property which he has enjoyed during their life. But let me +ask any man here who has not been born an eldest son himself, whether +it is natural that he should wish to give it all to one son. Would +any man think of doing so, by the light of his own reason,—out of +his own head as we say? Would any man be so unjust to those who are +equal in his love, were he not constrained by law, and by custom more +iron-handed even than the law?" The Senator had here made a mistake +very common with Americans, and a great many voices were on him at +once. "What law?" "There is no law." "You know nothing about it." "Go +back and learn."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Senator coming forward to the extreme verge of the +platform and putting down his foot as though there were strength +enough in his leg to crush them all; "Will any one have the hardihood +to tell me that property in this country is not affected by +primogeniture?" "Go back and learn the law." "I know the law perhaps +better than most of you. Do you mean to assert that my Lord Lambswool +can leave his land to whom he pleases? I tell you that he has no more +than a life-interest in it, and that his son will only have the +same." Then an eager Briton on the platform got up and whispered to +the Senator for a few minutes, during which the murmuring was +continued. "My friend reminds me," said the Senator, "that the matter +is one of custom rather than law; and I am obliged to him. But the +custom which is damnable and cruel, is backed by law which is equally +so. If I have land I can not only give it all to my eldest son, but I +can assure the right of primogeniture to his son, though he be not +yet born. No one I think will deny that there must be a special law +to enable me to commit an injustice so unnatural as that.</p> + +<p>"Hence it comes that you still suffer under an aristocracy almost as +dominant, and in its essence as irrational, as that which created +feudalism." The gentlemen collected on the platform looked at each +other and smiled, perhaps failing to catch the exact meaning of the +Senator's words. "A lord here has a power, as a lord, which he cannot +himself fathom and of which he daily makes an unconscious but most +deleterious use. He is brought up to think it natural that he should +be a tyrant. The proclivities of his order are generous, and as a +rule he gives more than he takes. But he is as injurious in the one +process as in the other. Your ordinary Briton in his dealing with a +lord expects payment in some shape for every repetition of the absurd +title;—and payment is made. The titled aristocrat pays dearer for +his horse, dearer for his coat, dearer for his servant than other +people. But in return he exacts much which no other person can get. +Knowing his own magnanimity he expects that his word shall not be +questioned. If I may be allowed I will tell a little story as to one +of the most generous gentlemen I have had the happiness of meeting in +this country, which will explain my meaning."</p> + +<p>Then without mentioning names he told the story of Lord Rufford, +Goarly, and Scrobby, in such a way as partly to redeem himself with +his audience. He acknowledged how absolutely he had been himself +befooled, and how he had been done out of his money by misplaced +sympathy. He made Mrs. Goarly's goose immortal, and in imitating the +indignation of Runce the farmer and Bean the gamekeeper showed that +he was master of considerable humour. But he brought it all round at +last to his own purpose, and ended this episode of his lecture by his +view of the absurdity and illegality of British hunting. "I can talk +about it to you," he said, "and you will know whether I am speaking +the truth. But when I get home among my own people, and repeat my +lecture there, as I shall do,—with some little additions as to the +good things I have found here from which your ears may be spared,—I +shall omit this story as I know it will be impossible to make my +countrymen believe that a hundred harum-scarum tomboys may ride at +their pleasure over every man's land, destroying crops and trampling +down fences, going, if their vermin leads them there, with reckless +violence into the sweet domestic garden of your country residences; +and that no one can either stop them or punish them! An American will +believe much about the wonderful ways of his British cousin, but no +American will be got to believe that till he sees it."</p> + +<p>"I find," said he, "that this irrationality, as I have ventured to +call it, runs through all your professions. We will take the Church +as being the highest at any rate in its objects." Then he +recapitulated all those arguments against our mode of dispensing +church patronage with which the reader is already familiar if he has +attended to the Senator's earlier words as given in this chronicle. +"In other lines of business there is, even here in England, some +attempt made to get the man best suited for the work he has to do. If +any one wants a domestic servant he sets about the work of getting a +proper person in a very determined manner indeed. But for the +care,—or, as you call it, the cure,—of his soul, he has to put up +with the man who has bought the right to minister to his wants; or +with him whose father wants a means of living for his younger +son,—the elder being destined to swallow all the family property; or +with him who has become sick of drinking his wine in an Oxford +college;—or with him, again, who has pleaded his cause successfully +with a bishop's daughter." It is not often that the British public is +angered by abuse of the Church, and this part of the lecture was +allowed to pass without strong marks of disapprobation.</p> + +<p>"I have been at some trouble," he continued, "to learn the very +complex rules by which your army is now regulated, and those by which +it was regulated a very short time since. Unhappily for me I have +found it in a state of transition, and nothing is so difficult to a +stranger's comprehension as a transition state of affairs. But this I +can see plainly;—that every improvement which is made is received by +those whom it most concerns with a horror which amounts almost to +madness. So lovely to the ancient British, well-born, feudal instinct +is a state of unreason, that the very absence of any principle +endears to it institutions which no one can attempt to support by +argument. Had such a thing not existed as the right to purchase +military promotion, would any satirist have been listened to who had +suggested it as a possible outcome of British irrationality? Think +what it carries with it! The man who has proved himself fit to serve +his country by serving it in twenty foughten fields, who has bled for +his country and perhaps preserved his country, shall rot in obscurity +because he has no money to buy promotion, whereas the young dandy who +has done no more than glitter along the pavements with his sword and +spurs shall have the command of men;—because he has so many thousand +dollars in his pocket."</p> + +<p>"<i>Buncombe</i>," shouted the inimical voice.</p> + +<p>"But is it <i>Buncombe</i>?" asked the intrepid Senator. "Will any one +who knows what he is talking about say that I am describing a state of +things which did not exist yesterday? I will acknowledge that this +has been rectified,—tho' I see symptoms of relapse. A fault that has +been mended is a fault no longer. But what I speak of now is the +disruption of all concord in your army caused by the reform which has +forced itself upon you. All loyalty has gone; all that love of his +profession which should be the breath of a soldier's nostrils. A fine +body of fighting heroes is broken-hearted, not because injury has +been done to them or to any of them, but because the system had +become peculiarly British by reason of its special absurdity, and +therefore peculiarly dear."</p> + +<p>"Buncombe," again said the voice, and the word was now repeated by a +dozen voices.</p> + +<p>"Let any one show me that it is Buncombe. If I say what is untrue, do +with me what you please. If I am ignorant, set me right and laugh at +me. But if what I say is true, then your interruption is surely a +sign of imbecility. I say that the change was forced upon you by the +feeling of the people, but that its very expediency has demoralized +the army, because the army was irrational. And how is it with the +navy? What am I to believe when I hear so many conflicting statements +among yourselves?" During this last appeal, however, the noise at the +back of the hall had become so violent, that the Senator was hardly +able to make his voice heard by those immediately around him. He +himself did not quail for a moment, going on with his gestures, and +setting down his foot as though he were still confident in his +purpose of overcoming all opposition. He had not much above half done +yet. There were the lawyers before him, and the Civil Service, and +the railways, and the commerce of the country, and the labouring +classes. But Lord Drummond and others near him were becoming +terrified, thinking that something worse might occur unless an end +was put to the proceedings. Then a superintendent of police came in +and whispered to his Lordship. A crowd was collecting itself in +Piccadilly and St. James's Street, and perhaps the Senator had better +be withdrawn. The officer did not think that he could safely answer +for the consequences if this were carried on for a quarter of an hour +longer. Then Lord Drummond having meditated for a moment, touched the +Senator's arm and suggested a withdrawal into a side room for a +minute. "Mr. Gotobed," he said, "a little feeling has been excited +and we had better put an end to this for the present."</p> + +<p>"Put an end to it?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid we must. The police are becoming alarmed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; you know best. In our country a man is allowed to +express himself unless he utters either blasphemy or calumny. But I +am in your hands and of course you must do as you please." Then he +sat down in a corner, and wiped his brow. Lord Drummond returned to +the hall, and there endeavoured to explain that the lecture was over +for that night. The row was so great that it did not matter much what +he said, but the people soon understood that the American Senator was +not to appear before them again.</p> + +<p>It was not much after nine o'clock when the Senator reached his +hotel, Lord Drummond having accompanied him thither in a cab. "Good +night, Mr. Gotobed," said his Lordship. "I cannot tell you how much I +respect both your purpose and your courage;—but I don't know how far +it is wise for a man to tell any other man, much less a nation, of +all his faults."</p> + +<p>"You English tell us of ours pretty often," said the Senator.</p> + +<p>When he found himself alone he thought of it all, giving himself no +special credit for what he had done, acknowledging to himself that he +had often chosen his words badly and expressed himself imperfectly, +but declaring to himself through it all that the want of reason among +Britishers was so great, that no one ought to treat them as wholly +responsible beings.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-25" id="c3-25"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> +<h3>THE LAST DAYS OF MARY MASTERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The triumph of Mary Masters was something more than a nine days' +wonder to the people of Dillsborough. They had all known Larry +Twentyman's intentions and aspirations, and had generally condemned +the young lady's obduracy, thinking, and not being slow to say, that +she would live to repent her perversity. Runciman who had a +thoroughly warm-hearted friendship for both the attorney and Larry +had sometimes been very severe on Mary. "She wants a touch of +hardship," he would say, "to bring her to. If Larry would just give +her a cold shoulder for six months, she'd be ready to jump into his +arms." And Dr. Nupper had been heard to remark that she might go +farther and fare worse. "If it were my girl I'd let her know all +about it," Ribbs the butcher had said in the bosom of his own family. +When it was found that Mr. Surtees the curate was not to be the +fortunate man, the matter was more inexplicable than ever. Had it +then been declared that the owner of Hoppet Hall had proposed to her, +all these tongues would have been silenced, and the refusal even of +Larry Twentyman would have been justified. But what was to be said +and what was to be thought when it was known that she was to be the +mistress of Bragton? For a day or two the prosperity of the attorney +was hardly to be endured by his neighbours. When it was first known +that the stewardship of the property was to go back into his hands, +his rise in the world was for a time slightly prejudicial to his +popularity; but this greater stroke of luck, this latter promotion +which would place him so much higher in Dillsborough than even his +father or his grandfather had ever been, was a great trial of +friendship.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Masters felt it all very keenly. All possibility for reproach +against either her husband or her step-daughter was of course at an +end. Even she did not pretend to say that Mary ought to refuse the +squire. Nor, as far as Mary was concerned, could she have further +recourse to the evils of Ushanting, and the peril of social +intercourse with ladies and gentlemen. It was manifest that Mary was +to be a lady with a big house, and many servants, and, no doubt, a +carriage and horses. But still Mrs. Masters was not quite silenced. +She had daughters of her own, and would solace herself by declaring +to them, to her husband, and to her specially intimate friends, that +of course they would see no more of Mary. It wasn't for them to +expect to be asked to Bragton, and as for herself she would much +rather not. She knew her own place and what she was born to, and +wasn't going to let her own children spoil themselves and ruin their +chances by dining at seven o'clock and being waited upon by servants +at every turn. Thank God her girls could make their own beds, and she +hoped they might continue to do so at any rate till they had houses +of their own.</p> + +<p>And there seemed to Dillsborough to be some justification for all +this in the fact that Mary was now living at Bragton, and that she +did not apparently intend to return to her father's house. At this +time Reginald Morton himself was still at Hoppet Hall, and had +declared that he would remain there till after his marriage. Lady +Ushant was living at the big house, which was henceforth to be her +home. Mary was her visitor, and was to be married from Bragton as +though Bragton were her residence rather than the squire's. The plan +had originated with Reginald, and when it had been hinted to him that +Mary would in this way seem to slight her father's home, he had +proposed that all the Masters should come and stay at Bragton +previous to the ceremony. Mrs. Masters yielded as to Mary's +residence, saying with mock humility that of course she had no room +fit to give a marriage feast to the Squire of Bragton; but she was +steadfast in saying to her husband, who made the proposition to her, +that she would stay at home. Of course she would be present at the +wedding; but she would not trouble the like of Lady Ushant by any +prolonged visiting.</p> + +<p>The wedding was to take place about the beginning of May, and all +these things were being considered early in April. At this time one +of the girls was always at Bragton, and Mary had done her best, but +hitherto in vain, to induce her step-mother to come to her. When she +heard that there was a doubt as to the accomplishment of the plan for +the coming of the whole family, she drove herself into Dillsborough +in the old phaeton and then pleaded her cause for herself. "Mamma," +she said, "won't you come with the girls and papa on the 29th?"</p> + +<p>"I think not, my dear. The girls can go,—if they like it. But it +will be more fitting for papa and me to come to the church on the +morning."</p> + +<p>"Why more fitting, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear; it will."</p> + +<p>"Dear mamma;—why,—why?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear, I am very glad that you are going to get such a +lift."</p> + +<p>"My lift is marrying the man I love."</p> + +<p>"That of course is all right. I have nothing on earth to say against +it. And I will say that through it all you have behaved as a young +woman should. I don't think you meant to throw yourself at him."</p> + +<p>"Mamma!"</p> + +<p>"But as it has turned up, you have to go one way and me another."</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"But it must be so. The Squire of Bragton is the Squire, and his wife +must act accordingly. Of course you'll be visiting at Rufford and +Hampton Wick, and all the places. I know very well who I am, and what +I came from. I'm not a bit ashamed of myself, but I'm not going to +stick myself up with my betters."</p> + +<p>"Then mamma, I shall come and be married from here."</p> + +<p>"It's too late for that now, my dear."</p> + +<p>"No;—it is not." And then a couple of tears began to roll down from +her eyes. "I won't be married without your coming in to see me the +night before, and being with me in the morning when I dress. Haven't +I been a good child to you, mamma?" Then the step-mother began to cry +also. "Haven't I, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear," whimpered the poor woman.</p> + +<p>"And won't you be my mamma to the last;—won't you?" And she threw +her arms round her step-mother's neck and kissed her. "I won't go one +way, and you another. He doesn't wish it. It is quite different from +that. I don't care a straw for Hampton Wick and Rufford; but I will +never be separated from you and the girls and papa. Say you will +come, mamma. I will not let you go till you say you will come." Of +course she had her own way, and Mrs. Masters had to feel with a sore +heart that she also must go out Ushanting. She knew, that in spite of +her domestic powers, she would be stricken dumb in the drawing-room +at Bragton and was unhappy.</p> + +<p>Mary had another scheme in which she was less fortunate. She took it +into her head that Larry Twentyman might possibly be induced to come +to her wedding. She had heard how he had ridden and gained honour for +himself on the day that the hounds killed their fox at Norrington, +and thought that perhaps her own message to him had induced him so +far to return to his old habits. And now she longed to ask him, for +her sake, to be happy once again. If any girl ever loved the man she +was going to marry with all her heart, this girl loved Reginald +Morton. He had been to her, when her love was hopeless, so completely +the master of her heart that she could not realise the possibility of +affection for another. But yet she was pervaded by a tenderness of +feeling in regard to Larry which was love also,—though love +altogether of another kind. She thought of him daily. His future +well-being was one of the cares of her life. That her husband might +be able to call him a friend was among her prayers. Had anybody +spoken ill of him in her presence she would have resented it hotly. +Had she been told that another girl had consented to be his wife, she +would have thought that girl to be happy in her destiny. When she +heard that he was leading a wretched, moping, aimless life for her +sake, her heart was sad within her. It was necessary to the +completion of her happiness that Larry should recover his tone of +mind and be her friend. "Reg," she said, leaning on his arm out in +the park, "I want you to do me a favour."</p> + +<p>"Watch and chain?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be an idiot. You know I've got a watch and chain."</p> + +<p>"Some girls like two. To have the wooden bridge pulled down and a +stone one built."</p> + +<p>"If any one touched a morsel of that sacred timber he should be +banished from Bragton for ever. I want you to ask Mr. Twentyman to +come to our wedding."</p> + +<p>"Who's to do it? Who's to bell the cat?"</p> + +<p>"You."</p> + +<p>"I would sooner fight a Saracen, or ride such a horse as killed that +poor major. Joking apart, I don't see how it is to be done. Why do +you wish it?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am so fond of him."</p> + +<p>"Oh;—indeed!"</p> + +<p>"If you're a goose, I'll hit you. I am fond of him. Next to you and +my own people, and Lady Ushant, I like him best in all the world."</p> + +<p>"What a pity you couldn't have put him up a little higher."</p> + +<p>"I used to think so too;—only I couldn't. If anybody loved you as he +did me,—offered you everything he had in the world,—thought that +you were the best in the world,—would have given his life for you, +would not you be grateful?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I need wish to ask such a person to my wedding."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you would, if in that way you could build a bridge to bring him +back to happiness. And, Reg, though you used to despise +<span class="nowrap">him—"</span></p> + +<p>"I never despised him."</p> + +<p>"A little I think—before you knew him. But he is not despicable."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, my dear."</p> + +<p>"He is honest and good, and has a real heart of his own."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid he has parted with that."</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean, and if you won't be serious I shall think +there is no seriousness in you. I want you to tell me how it can be +done."</p> + +<p>Then he was serious, and tried to explain to her that he could not +very well do what she wanted. "He is your friend you know rather than +mine;—but if you like to write to him you can do so."</p> + +<p>This seemed to her to be very difficult, and, as she thought more of +it, almost impossible. A written letter remains, and may be taken as +evidence of so much more than it means. But a word sometimes may be +spoken which, if it be well spoken,—if assurance of its truth be +given by the tone and by the eye of the speaker,—shall do so much +more than any letter, and shall yet only remain with the hearer as +the remembrance of the scent of a flower remains! Nevertheless she +did at last write the letter, and brought it to her husband. "Is it +necessary that I should see it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Not absolutely necessary."</p> + +<p>"Then send it without."</p> + +<p>"But I should like you to see what I have said. You know about +things, and if it is too much or too little, you can tell me." Then +he read her letter, which ran as follows.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear +Mr. Twentyman</span>,</p> + +<p>Perhaps you have heard that we are to be married on +Thursday, May 6th. I do so wish that you would come. It +would make me so much happier on that day. We shall be +very quiet; and if you would come to the house at eleven +you could go across the park with them all to the church. +I am to be taken in a carriage because of my finery. Then +there will be a little breakfast. Papa and mamma and Dolly +and Kate would be so glad;—and so would Mr. Morton. But +none of them will be half so glad as your old, old, +affectionate friend</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Mary +Masters</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>"If that don't fetch him," said Reginald, "he is a poorer creature +than I take him to be."</p> + +<p>"But I may send it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly you may send it." And so the letter was sent across to +Chowton Farm.</p> + +<p>But the letter did not "fetch" him; nor am I prepared to agree with +Mr. Morton that he was a poor creature for not being "fetched." There +are things which the heart of a man should bear without whimpering, +but which it cannot bear in public with that appearance of stoical +indifference which the manliness of a man is supposed to require. +Were he to go, should he be jovial before the wedding party or should +he be sober and saturnine? Should he appear to have forgotten his +love, or should he go about lovelorn among the wedding guests? It was +impossible,—at any rate impossible as yet,—that he should fall into +that state of almost brotherly regard which it was so natural that +she should desire. But as he had determined to forgive her, he went +across that afternoon to the house and was the bearer of his own +answer. He asked Mrs. Hopkins who came to the door whether she were +alone, and was then shown into an empty room where he waited for her. +She came to him as quickly as she could, leaving Lady Ushant in the +middle of the page she was reading, and feeling as she tripped +downstairs that the colour was rushing to her face. "You will come, +Larry," she said.</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Masters."</p> + +<p>"Let me be Mary till I am Mrs. Morton," she said, trying to smile. "I +was always Mary." And then she burst into tears. "Why,—why won't you +come?"</p> + +<p>"I should only stalk about like a ghost. I couldn't be merry as a man +should be at a wedding. I don't see how a man is to do such a thing." +She looked up into his face imploring him,—not to come, for that she +felt now to be impossible,—but imploring him to express in some way +forgiveness of the sin she had committed against him. "But I shall +think of you and shall wish you well."</p> + +<p>"And after that we shall be friends?"</p> + +<p>"By and bye,—if he pleases."</p> + +<p>"He will please;—he does please. Of course he saw what I wrote to +you. And now, Larry, if I have ever treated you badly, say that you +pardon me."</p> + +<p>"If I had known it—" he said.</p> + +<p>"How could I tell you,—till he had spoken? And yet I knew it myself! +It has been so,—oh,—ever so long! What could I do? You will say +that you will forgive me."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—I will say that."</p> + +<p>"And you will not go away from Chowton?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! They tell me I ought to stay here, and I suppose I shall +stay. I thought I'd just come over and say a word. I'm going away +to-morrow for a month. There is a fellow has got some fishing in +Ireland. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Larry."</p> + +<p>"And I thought perhaps you'd take this now." Then he brought out from +his pocket a little ruby ring which he had carried often in his +pocket to the attorney's house, thinking that perhaps then might come +the happy hour in which he could get her to accept it. But the hour +had never come as yet, and the ring had remained in the little drawer +beneath his looking-glass. It need hardly be said that she now +accepted the gift.</p> + + +<p><a name="c3-26" id="c3-26"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> +<h3>CONCLUSION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The Senator for Mickewa,—whose name we have taken for a book which +might perhaps have been better called "The Chronicle of a Winter at +Dillsborough"—did not stay long in London after the unfortunate +close of his lecture. He was a man not very pervious to criticism, +nor afraid of it, but he did not like the treatment he had received +at St. James's Hall, nor the remarks which his lecture produced in +the newspapers. He was angry because people were unreasonable with +him, which was surely unreasonable in him who accused Englishmen +generally of want of reason. One ought to take it as a matter of +course that a bull should use his horns, and a wolf his teeth. The +Senator read everything that was said of him, and then wrote numerous +letters to the different journals which had condemned him. Had any +one accused him of an untruth? Or had his inaccuracies been glaring? +Had he not always expressed his readiness to acknowledge his own +mistake if convicted of ignorance? But when he was told that he had +persistently trodden upon all the corns of his English cousins, he +declared that corns were evil things which should be abolished, and +that with corns such as these there was no mode of abolition so +efficacious as treading on them.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry that you should have encountered anything so unpleasant," +Lord Drummond said to him when he went to bid adieu to his friend at +the Foreign Office.</p> + +<p>"And I am sorry too, my Lord;—for your sake rather than my own. A +man is in a bad case who cannot endure to hear of his faults."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you take our national sins a little too much for granted."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so, my Lord. If you knew me to be wrong you would not +be so sore with me. Nevertheless I am under deep obligation for +kind-hearted hospitality. If an American can make up his mind to +crack up everything he sees here, there is no part of the world in +which he can get along better." He had already written a long letter +home to his friend Mr. Josiah Scroome, and had impartially sent to +that gentleman not only his own lecture, but also a large collection +of the criticisms made on it. A few weeks afterwards he took his +departure, and when we last heard of him was thundering in the Senate +against certain practices on the part of his own country which he +thought to be unjust to other nations. Don Quixote was not more just +than the Senator, or more philanthropic,—nor perhaps more apt to +wage war against the windmills.</p> + +<p>Having in this our last chapter given the place of honour to the +Senator, we must now say a parting word as to those countrymen of our +own who have figured in our pages. Lord Rufford married Miss Penge of +course, and used the lady's fortune in buying the property of Sir +John Purefoy. We may probably be safe in saying that the acquisition +added very little to his happiness. What difference can it make to a +man whether he has forty or fifty thousand pounds a year,—or at any +rate to such a man? Perhaps Miss Penge herself was an acquisition. He +did not hunt so often or shoot so much, and was seen in church once +at least on every Sunday. In a very short time his friends perceived +that a very great change had come over him. He was growing fat, and +soon disliked the trouble of getting up early to go to a distant +meet;—and, before a year or two had passed away, it had become an +understood thing that in country houses he was not one of the men who +went down at night into the smoking-room in a short dressing-coat and +a picturesque cap. Miss Penge had done all this. He had had his +period of pleasure, and no doubt the change was desirable;—but he +sometimes thought with regret of the promise Arabella Trefoil had +made him, that she would never interfere with his gratification.</p> + +<p>At Dillsborough everything during the summer after the Squire's +marriage fell back into its usual routine. The greatest change made +there was in the residence of the attorney, who with his family went +over to live at Hoppet Hall, giving up his old house to a young man +from Norrington, who had become his partner, but keeping the old +office for his business. Mrs. Masters did, I think, like the honour +and glory of the big house, but she would never admit that she did. +And when she was constrained once or twice in the year to give a +dinner to her step-daughter's husband and Lady Ushant, that, I think, +was really a period of discomfort to her. When at Bragton she could +at any rate be quiet, and Mary's caressing care almost made the place +pleasant to her.</p> + +<p>Mr. Runciman prospers at the Bush, though he has entirely lost his +best customer, Lord Rufford. But the U. R. U. is still strong, in +spite of the philosophers, and in the hunting season the boxes of the +Bush Inn are full of horses. The club goes on without much change, +Mr. Masters being very regular in his attendance, undeterred by the +grandeur of his new household. And Larry is always there,—with +increased spirit, for he has dined two or three times lately at +Hampton Wick, having met young Hampton at the Squire's house at +Bragton. On this point Fred Botsey was for a time very jealous;—but +he found that Larry's popularity was not to be shaken, and now is +very keen in pushing an intimacy with the owner of Chowton Farm. +Perhaps the most stirring event in the neighbourhood has been the +retirement of Captain Glomax from the post of Master. When the season +was over he made an application to Lord Rufford respecting certain +stable and kennel expenses, which that nobleman snubbed very bluntly. +Thereupon the Captain intimated to the Committee that unless some +advances were made he should go. The Committee refused, and thereupon +the captain went;—not altogether to the dissatisfaction of the +farmers, with whom an itinerant Master is seldom altogether popular. +Then for a time there was great gloom in the U. R. U. What hunting +man or woman does not know the gloom which comes over a hunting +county when one Master goes before another is ready to step in his +shoes? There had been a hope, a still growing hope, that Lord Rufford +would come forward at any such pinch; but since Miss Penge had come +to the front that hope had altogether vanished. There was a word said +at Rufford on the subject, but Miss Penge,—or Lady Rufford as she +was then,—at once put her foot on the project and extinguished it. +Then, when despair was imminent, old Mr. Hampton gave way, and young +Hampton came forward, acknowledged on all sides as the man for the +place. A Master always does appear at last; though for a time it +appears that the kingdom must come to an end because no one will +consent to sit on the throne.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most loudly triumphant man in Dillsborough was Mr. +Mainwaring, the parson, when he heard of the discomfiture of Senator +Gotobed. He could hardly restrain his joy, and confided first to Dr. +Nupper and then to Mr. Runciman his opinion, that of all the +blackguards that had ever put their foot in Dillsborough, that vile +Yankee was the worst. Mr. Gotobed was no more a Yankee than was the +parson himself;—but of any distinction among the citizens of the +United States, Mr. Mainwaring knew very little.</p> + +<p>A word or two more must be said of our dear friend Larry +Twentyman;—for in finishing this little story we must own that he +has in truth been our hero. He went away on his fishing expedition, +and when he came back the girl of his heart had become Mrs. Morton. +Hunting had long been over then, but the great hunting difficulty was +in course of solution, and Larry took his part in the matter. When +there was a suggestion as to a committee of three,—than which +nothing for hunting purposes can be much worse,—there was a question +whether he should not be one of them. This nearly killed both the +Botseys. The evil thing was prevented by the timely pressure put on +old Mr. Hampton; but the excitement did our friend Larry much good. +"Bicycle" and the other mare were at once summered with the greatest +care, and it is generally understood that young Hampton means to +depend upon Larry very much in regard to the Rufford side of the +country. Larry has bought Goarly's two fields, Goarly having +altogether vanished from those parts, and is supposed to have +Dillsborough Wood altogether in his charge. He is frequently to be +seen at Hoppet Hall, calling there every Saturday to take down the +attorney to the Dillsborough club,—as was his habit of old; but it +would perhaps be premature to say that there are very valid grounds +for the hopes which Mrs. Masters already entertains in reference to +Kate. Kate is still too young and childish to justify any prediction +in that quarter.</p> + +<p>What further need be said as to Reginald and his happy bride? Very +little;—except that in the course of her bridal tour she did +gradually find words to give him a true and accurate account of all +her own feelings from the time at which he first asked her to walk +with him across the bridge over the Dill and look at the old place. +They had both passed their childish years there, but could have but +little thought that they were destined then to love and grow old +together. "I was longing, longing, longing to come," she said.</p> + +<p>"And why didn't you come?"</p> + +<p>"How little you know about girls! Of course I had to go with the one +I—I—I—; well with the one I did not love down to the very soles of +his feet." And then there was the journey with the parrot. "I rather +liked the bird. I don't know that you said very much, but I think you +would have said less if there had been no bird."</p> + +<p>"In fact I have been a fool all along."</p> + +<p>"You weren't a fool when you took me out through the orchard and +caught me when I jumped over the wall. Do you remember when you asked +me, all of a sudden, whether I should like to be your wife? You +weren't a fool then."</p> + +<p>"But you knew what was coming."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it. I knew it wasn't coming. I had quite made up my +mind about that. I was as sure of it;—oh, as sure of it as I am that +I've got you now. And then it came;—like a great thunderclap."</p> + +<p>"A thunderclap, Mary!"</p> + +<p>"Well;—yes. I wasn't quite sure at first. You might have been +laughing at me;—mightn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Just the kind of joke for me!"</p> + +<p>"How was I to understand it all in a moment? And you made me repeat +all those words. I believed it then, or I shouldn't have said them. I +knew that must be serious." And so she deified him, and sat at his +feet looking up into his eyes, and fooled him for a while into the +most perfect happiness that a man ever knows in this world. But she +was not altogether happy herself till she had got Larry to come to +her at the house at Bragton and swear to her that he would be her +friend.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMERICAN SENATOR***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 5118-h.txt or 5118-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/1/1/5118">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/5118</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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