diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:00:00 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:00:00 -0700 |
| commit | 0d43c577bfa08ca1c8983ff82d1372cac6a56bfe (patch) | |
| tree | caec93736c701c6c6d2bdeee355e1653092e908a /23000-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '23000-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/23000-h.htm | 35535 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/frontis-a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 89138 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/frontis-a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 394299 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill02-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 70499 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 319252 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill05-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 80555 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill05.jpg | bin | 0 -> 383804 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill06-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72501 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill06.jpg | bin | 0 -> 342085 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill09-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74122 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill09.jpg | bin | 0 -> 381455 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill11a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 71268 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill11a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 351418 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill13-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 66516 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill13.jpg | bin | 0 -> 329790 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill14-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 69988 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill14.jpg | bin | 0 -> 351568 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill17-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76502 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill17.jpg | bin | 0 -> 364515 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill18-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72261 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill18.jpg | bin | 0 -> 334087 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 81820 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 405481 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22b-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 78029 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 381619 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22c-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76213 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill22c.jpg | bin | 0 -> 382842 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill28-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 83525 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill28.jpg | bin | 0 -> 412012 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill29-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 90844 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill29.jpg | bin | 0 -> 434901 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill31-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 75898 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill31.jpg | bin | 0 -> 413905 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill33-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 71705 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill33.jpg | bin | 0 -> 375672 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill36-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 69520 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill36.jpg | bin | 0 -> 345875 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill37-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 81598 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill37.jpg | bin | 0 -> 436445 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill39-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 82735 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill39.jpg | bin | 0 -> 445519 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill42-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73405 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill42.jpg | bin | 0 -> 355950 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill44-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 77190 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill44.jpg | bin | 0 -> 393806 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill45-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 67534 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill45.jpg | bin | 0 -> 343815 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill47-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 71401 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill47.jpg | bin | 0 -> 373476 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill50-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 75009 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill50.jpg | bin | 0 -> 396914 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill51-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72460 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill51.jpg | bin | 0 -> 376988 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill53-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 77835 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill53.jpg | bin | 0 -> 383958 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill56-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74194 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill56.jpg | bin | 0 -> 394383 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill58-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73605 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill58.jpg | bin | 0 -> 366130 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill59-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73541 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill59.jpg | bin | 0 -> 372788 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill62-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73143 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill62.jpg | bin | 0 -> 387244 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill64-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74939 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill64.jpg | bin | 0 -> 352301 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill66a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 62215 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill66a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 336780 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill66b-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 71579 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill66b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 363888 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill70-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 67523 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill70.jpg | bin | 0 -> 368881 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill71a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 65562 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill71a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 387039 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill71b-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 72443 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill71b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 369815 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill73-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 69363 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill73.jpg | bin | 0 -> 403673 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill79a-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61027 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill79a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 342153 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill79b-t.jpg | bin | 0 -> 59141 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23000-h/images/ill79b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 318227 bytes |
81 files changed, 35535 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/23000-h/23000-h.htm b/23000-h/23000-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..091e285 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/23000-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,35535 @@ +<!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 Orley Farm, 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; } + table.med {font-size: medium; + 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; } + .u { text-decoration: underline; } + 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, Orley Farm, 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: Orley Farm</p> +<p class="noindent">Author: Anthony Trollope</p> +<p class="noindent">Release Date: October 13, 2007 [eBook #23000]<br /> +HTML version most recently updated: February 16, 2013</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 ORLEY FARM***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.</h3> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + <span class="nowrap">Editorial note:</span> + </td> + <td> + The illustrations by John Everett Millais + in this HTML file are those used in the First Edition of + <i>Orley Farm</i> (Chapman and Hall, London, 1862). + The frontispiece below, titled "Orley Farm," depicts the farmhouse at + Harrow in which Trollope lived as a boy, "Just as it was when + we lived there," he states in his autobiography. + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"><a name="frontis-a" id="frontis-a"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/frontis-a.jpg"> + <img src="images/frontis-a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Orley Farm." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Orley Farm.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/frontis-a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>ORLEY FARM</h1> + +<p> </p> +<h4>by</h4> + +<h2>ANTHONY TROLLOPE</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>First published in serial form March, 1861, through October, 1862,<br /> +and in book form in 1862, both by Chapman and Hall.</h4> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="center"> +<table class="med" 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" >THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE GREAT<br />ORLEY FARM CASE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">II. </td> <td><a href="#c2" >LADY MASON AND HER SON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">III. </td> <td><a href="#c3" >THE CLEEVE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IV. </td> <td><a href="#c4" >THE PERILS OF YOUTH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">V. </td> <td><a href="#c5" >SIR PEREGRINE MAKES A SECOND PROMISE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VI. </td> <td><a href="#c6" >THE COMMERCIAL ROOM, BULL INN, LEEDS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VII. </td> <td><a href="#c7" >THE MASONS OF GROBY PARK.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VIII. </td> <td><a href="#c8" >MRS. MASON'S HOT LUNCHEON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">IX. </td> <td><a href="#c9" >A CONVIVIAL MEETING.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">X. </td> <td><a href="#c10" >MR., MRS., AND MISS FURNIVAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XI. </td> <td><a href="#c11" >MRS. FURNIVAL AT HOME.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XII. </td> <td><a href="#c12" >MR. FURNIVAL'S CHAMBERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIII. </td> <td><a href="#c13" >GUILTY, OR NOT GUILTY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIV. </td> <td><a href="#c14" >DINNER AT THE CLEEVE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XV. </td> <td><a href="#c15" >A MORNING CALL AT MOUNT PLEASANT VILLA.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVI. </td> <td><a href="#c16" >MR. DOCKWRATH IN BEDFORD ROW.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVII. </td> <td><a href="#c17" >VON BAUHR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c18" >THE ENGLISH VON BAUHR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XIX. </td> <td><a href="#c19" >THE STAVELEY FAMILY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XX. </td> <td><a href="#c20" >MR. DOCKWRATH IN HIS OWN OFFICE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXI. </td> <td><a href="#c21" >CHRISTMAS IN HARLEY STREET.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXII. </td> <td><a href="#c22" >CHRISTMAS AT NONINGSBY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c23" >CHRISTMAS AT GROBY PARK.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c24" >CHRISTMAS IN GREAT ST. HELENS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXV. </td> <td><a href="#c25" >MR. FURNIVAL AGAIN AT HIS CHAMBERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c26" >WHY SHOULD I NOT?</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c27" >COMMERCE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c28" >MONKTON GRANGE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXIX. </td> <td><a href="#c29" >BREAKING COVERT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXX. </td> <td><a href="#c30" >ANOTHER FALL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXI. </td> <td><a href="#c31" >FOOTSTEPS IN THE CORRIDOR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXII. </td> <td><a href="#c32" >WHAT BRIDGET BOLSTER HAD TO SAY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c33" >THE ANGEL OF LIGHT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c34" >MR. FURNIVAL LOOKS FOR ASSISTANCE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXV. </td> <td><a href="#c35" >LOVE WAS STILL THE LORD OF ALL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c36" >WHAT THE YOUNG MEN THOUGHT ABOUT IT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c37" >PEREGRINE'S ELOQUENCE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c38" >OH, INDEED!</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XXXIX. </td> <td><a href="#c39" >WHY SHOULD HE GO?</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XL. </td> <td><a href="#c40" >I CALL IT AWFUL.</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">XLI. </td> <td><a href="#c41" >HOW CAN I SAVE HIM?</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLII. </td> <td><a href="#c42" >JOHN KENNEBY GOES TO HAMWORTH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLIII. </td> <td><a href="#c43" >JOHN KENNEBY'S COURTSHIP.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLIV. </td> <td><a href="#c44" >SHOWING HOW LADY MASON COULD BE<br />VERY NOBLE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLV. </td> <td><a href="#c45" >SHOWING HOW MRS. ORME COULD BE<br />VERY WEAK MINDED.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLVI. </td> <td><a href="#c46" >A WOMAN'S IDEA OF FRIENDSHIP.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLVII. </td> <td><a href="#c47" >THE GEM OF THE FOUR FAMILIES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c48" >THE ANGEL OF LIGHT UNDER A CLOUD.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">XLIX. </td> <td><a href="#c49" >MRS. FURNIVAL CAN'T PUT UP WITH IT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">L. </td> <td><a href="#c50" >IT IS QUITE IMPOSSIBLE.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LI. </td> <td><a href="#c51" >MRS. FURNIVAL'S JOURNEY TO HAMWORTH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LII. </td> <td><a href="#c52" >SHOWING HOW THINGS WENT ON<br />AT NONINGSBY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LIII. </td> <td><a href="#c53" >LADY MASON RETURNS HOME.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LIV. </td> <td><a href="#c54" >TELLING ALL THAT HAPPENED<br />BENEATH THE LAMP-POST.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LV. </td> <td><a href="#c55" >WHAT TOOK PLACE IN HARLEY STREET.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LVI. </td> <td><a href="#c56" >HOW SIR PEREGRINE DID BUSINESS<br />WITH MR. ROUND.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LVII. </td> <td><a href="#c57" >THE LOVES AND HOPES OF ALBERT FITZALLEN.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c58" >MISS STAVELEY DECLINES TO EAT<br />MINCED VEAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LIX. </td> <td><a href="#c59" >NO SURRENDER.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LX. </td> <td><a href="#c60" >WHAT REBEKAH DID FOR HER SON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXI. </td> <td><a href="#c61" >THE STATE OF PUBLIC OPINION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXII. </td> <td><a href="#c62" >WHAT THE FOUR LAWYERS THOUGHT<br />ABOUT IT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c63" >THE EVENING BEFORE THE TRIAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c64" >THE FIRST JOURNEY TO ALSTON.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXV. </td> <td><a href="#c65" >FELIX GRAHAM RETURNS TO NONINGSBY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c66" >SHOWING HOW MISS FURNIVAL TREATED<br />HER LOVERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c67" >MR. MOULDER BACKS HIS OPINION.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c68" >THE FIRST DAY OF THE TRIAL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXIX. </td> <td><a href="#c69" >THE TWO JUDGES.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXX. </td> <td><a href="#c70" >HOW AM I TO BEAR IT?</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXI. </td> <td><a href="#c71" >SHOWING HOW JOHN KENNEBY<br />AND BRIDGET BOLSTER<br />BORE THEMSELVES IN COURT.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXII. </td> <td><a href="#c72" >MR. FURNIVAL'S SPEECH.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXIII. </td> <td><a href="#c73" >MRS. ORME TELLS THE STORY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXIV. </td> <td><a href="#c74" >YOUNG LOCHINVAR.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXV. </td> <td><a href="#c75" >THE LAST DAY.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXVI. </td> <td><a href="#c76" >I LOVE HER STILL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXVII. </td> <td><a href="#c77" >JOHN KENNEBY'S DOOM.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXVIII. </td> <td><a href="#c78" >THE LAST OF THE LAWYERS.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXIX. </td> <td><a href="#c79" >FAREWELL.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">LXXX. </td> <td><a href="#c80" >SHOWING HOW AFFAIRS SETTLED<br />THEMSELVES AT NONINGSBY.</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> +<p> </p> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<div class="center"> +<table class="med" 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="left"><a href="#frontis-a" >ORLEY FARM.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> FRONTISPIECE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill02" >SIR PEREGRINE AND HIS HEIR.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER III</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill05" >THERE WAS SORROW IN HER HEART,<br />AND DEEP THOUGHT IN HER MIND.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER V</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill06" >"THERE IS NOTHING LIKE IRON, SIR; NOTHING."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER VI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill09" >AND THEN THEY ALL MARCHED OUT OF THE<br />ROOM, EACH WITH HIS OWN GLASS.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER IX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill11" >MR. FURNIVAL'S WELCOME HOME.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill13" >"YOUR SON LUCIUS DID SAY—SHOPPING."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill14" >OVER THEIR WINE.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XIV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill17" >VON BAUHR'S DREAM.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XVII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill18" >THE ENGLISH VON BAUHR AND HIS PUPIL.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XVIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill22a" >CHRISTMAS AT NONINGSBY—MORNING.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill22b" >CHRISTMAS AT NONINGSBY—EVENING.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill22c" >"WHY SHOULD I NOT?"</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill28" >MONKTON GRANGE.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXVIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill29" >FELIX GRAHAM IN TROUBLE.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXIX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill31" >FOOTSTEPS IN THE CORRIDOR.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXXI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill33" >THE ANGEL OF LIGHT.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXXIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill36" >LUCIUS MASON IN HIS STUDY.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXXVI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill37" >PEREGRINE'S ELOQUENCE.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXXVII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill39" >LADY STAVELY INTERRUPTING HER SON<br />AND SOPHIA FURNIVAL.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XXXIX</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="left"><a href="#ill42" >JOHN KENNEBY AND MIRIAM DOCKWRATH.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XLII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill44" >GUILTY.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XLIV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill45" >LADY MASON AFTER HER CONFESSION.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XLV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill47" >"BREAD SAUCE IS SO TICKLISH."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER XLVII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill50" >"NEVER IS A VERY LONG WORD."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER L</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill51" >"TOM," SHE SAID, "I HAVE COME BACK."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill53" >LADY MASON GOING BEFORE THE MAGISTRATES.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill56" >SIR PEREGRINE AT MR. ROUND'S OFFICE.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LVI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill58" >"TELL ME, MADELINE, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LVIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill59" >"NO SURRENDER."</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LIX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill62" >MR. CHAFFANBRASS AND MR. SOLOMON ARAM.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill64" >THE COURT.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXIV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill66a" >THE DRAWING-ROOM AT NONINGSBY.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXV</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill66b" >"AND HOW ARE THEY ALL AT NONINGSBY?"</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXVI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill70" >LADY MASON LEAVING THE COURT.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill71a" >"HOW CAN I BEAR IT?"</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill71b" >BRIDGET BOLSTER IN COURT.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXXI</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill73" >LUCIUS MASON, AS HE LEANED ON THE GATE<br />THAT WAS NO LONGER HIS OWN.</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXXIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill79a" >FAREWELL!</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXXIX</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><a href="#ill79b" >FAREWELL!</a></td><td valign="bottom"> CHAPTER LXXIX</td></tr> +</table> + +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="narrow" /> + + +<p><a name="c1" id="c1"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>VOLUME I.</h3> +<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> +<h3>THE COMMENCEMENT OF<br />THE GREAT ORLEY FARM CASE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It is not true that a rose by any other name will smell as sweet. +Were it true, I should call this story "The Great Orley Farm Case." +But who would ask for the ninth number of a serial work burthened +with so very uncouth an appellation? Thence, and therefore,—Orley +Farm.</p> + +<p>I say so much at commencing in order that I may have an opportunity +of explaining that this book of mine will not be devoted in any +special way to rural delights. The name might lead to the idea that +new precepts were to be given, in the pleasant guise of a novel, as +to cream-cheeses, pigs with small bones, wheat sown in drills, or +artificial manure. No such aspirations are mine. I make no attempts +in that line, and declare at once that agriculturists will gain +nothing from my present performance. Orley Farm, my readers, will be +our scene during a portion of our present sojourn together, but the +name has been chosen as having been intimately connected with certain +legal questions which made a considerable stir in our courts of law.</p> + +<p>It was twenty years before the date at which this story will be +supposed to commence that the name of Orley Farm first became known +to the wearers of the long robe. At that time had died an old +gentleman, Sir Joseph Mason, who left behind him a landed estate in +Yorkshire of considerable extent and value. This he bequeathed, in a +proper way, to his eldest son, the Joseph Mason, Esq., of our date. +Sir Joseph had been a London merchant; had made his own money, having +commenced the world, no doubt, with half a crown; had become, in +turn, alderman, mayor, and knight; and in the fulness of time was +gathered to his fathers. He had purchased this estate in Yorkshire +late in life—we may as well become acquainted with the name, Groby +Park—and his eldest son had lived there with such enjoyment of the +privileges of an English country gentleman as he had been able to +master for himself. Sir Joseph had also had three daughters, full +sisters of Joseph of Groby, whom he endowed sufficiently and gave +over to three respective loving husbands. And then shortly before his +death, three years or so, Sir Joseph had married a second wife, a +lady forty-five years his junior, and by her he also left one son, an +infant only two years old when he died.</p> + +<p>For many years this prosperous gentleman had lived at a small country +house, some five-and-twenty miles from London, called Orley Farm. +This had been his first purchase of land, and he had never given up +his residence there, although his wealth would have entitled him to +the enjoyment of a larger establishment. On the birth of his youngest +son, at which time his eldest was nearly forty years old, he made +certain moderate provision for the infant, as he had already made +moderate provision for his young wife; but it was then clearly +understood by the eldest son that Orley Farm was to go with the Groby +Park estate to him as the heir. When, however, Sir Joseph died, a +codicil to his will, executed with due legal formalities, bequeathed +Orley Farm to his youngest son, little Lucius Mason.</p> + +<p>Then commenced those legal proceedings which at last developed +themselves into the great Orley Farm Case. The eldest son contested +the validity of the codicil; and indeed there were some grounds on +which it appeared feasible that he should do so. This codicil not +only left Orley Farm away from him to baby Lucius, but also +interfered in another respect with the previous will. It devised a +sum of two thousand pounds to a certain Miriam Usbech, the daughter +of one Jonathan Usbech who was himself the attorney who had attended +upon Sir Joseph for the making out of this very will, and also of +this very codicil. This sum of two thousand pounds was not, it is +true, left away from the surviving Joseph, but was to be produced out +of certain personal property which had been left by the first will to +the widow. And then old Jonathan Usbech had died, while Sir Joseph +Mason was still living.</p> + +<p>All the circumstances of the trial need not be detailed here. It was +clearly proved that Sir Joseph had during his whole life expressed +his intention of leaving Orley Farm to his eldest son; that he was a +man void of mystery, and not given to secrets in his money matters, +and one very little likely to change his opinion on such subjects. It +was proved that old Jonathan Usbech at the time in which the will was +made was in very bad circumstances, both as regards money and health. +His business had once not been bad, but he had eaten and drunk it, +and at this period was feeble and penniless, overwhelmed both by gout +and debt. He had for many years been much employed by Sir Joseph in +money matters, and it was known that he was so employed almost up to +the day of his death. The question was whether he had been employed +to make this codicil.</p> + +<p>The body of the will was in the handwriting of the widow, as was also +the codicil. It was stated by her at the trial that the words were +dictated to her by Usbech in her husband's hearing, and that the +document was then signed by her husband in the presence of them both, +and also in the presence of two other persons—a young man employed +by her husband as a clerk, and by a servant-maid. These two last, +together with Mr. Usbech, were the three witnesses whose names +appeared in the codicil. There had been no secrets between Lady Mason +and her husband as to his will. She had always, she said, endeavoured +to induce him to leave Orley Farm to her child from the day of the +child's birth, and had at last succeeded. In agreeing to this Sir +Joseph had explained to her, somewhat angrily, that he wished to +provide for Usbech's daughter, and that now he would do so out of +moneys previously intended for her, the widow, and not out of the +estate which would go to his eldest son. To this she had assented +without a word, and had written the codicil in accordance with the +lawyer's dictation, he, the lawyer, suffering at the time from gout +in his hand. Among other things Lady Mason proved that on the date of +the signatures Mr. Usbech had been with Sir Joseph for sundry hours.</p> + +<p>Then the young clerk was examined. He had, he said, witnessed in his +time four, ten, twenty, and, under pressure, he confessed to as many +as a hundred and twenty business signatures on the part of his +employer, Sir Joseph. He thought he had witnessed a hundred and +twenty, but would take his oath he had not witnessed a hundred and +twenty-one. He did remember witnessing a signature of his master +about the time specified by the date of the codicil, and he +remembered the maid-servant also signing at the same time. Mr. Usbech +was then present; but he did not remember Mr. Usbech having the pen +in his hand. Mr. Usbech, he knew, could not write at that time, +because of the gout; but he might, no doubt, have written as much as +his own name. He swore to both the signatures—his own and his +master's; and in cross-examination swore that he thought it probable +that they might be forgeries. On re-examination he was confident that +his own name, as there appearing, had been written by himself; but on +re-cross-examination, he felt sure that there was something wrong. It +ended in the judge informing him that his word was worth nothing, +which was hard enough on the poor young man, seeing that he had done +his best to tell all that he remembered. Then the servant-girl came +into the witness-box. She was sure it was her own handwriting. She +remembered being called in to write her name, and seeing the master +write his. It had all been explained to her at the time, but she +admitted that she had not understood the explanation. She had also +seen the clerk write his name, but she was not sure that she had seen +Mr. Usbech write. Mr. Usbech had had a pen in his hand; she was sure +of that.</p> + +<p>The last witness was Miriam Usbech, then a very pretty, simple girl +of seventeen. Her father had told her once that he hoped Sir Joseph +would make provision for her. This had been shortly before her +father's death. At her father's death she had been sent for to Orley +Farm, and had remained there till Sir Joseph died. She had always +regarded Sir Joseph and Lady Mason as her best friends. She had known +Sir Joseph all her life, and did not think it unnatural that he +should provide for her. She had heard her father say more than once +that Lady Mason would never rest till the old gentleman had settled +Orley Farm upon her son.</p> + +<p>Not half the evidence taken has been given here, but enough probably +for our purposes. The will and codicil were confirmed, and Lady Mason +continued to live at the farm. Her evidence was supposed to have been +excellently given, and to have been conclusive. She had seen the +signature, and written the codicil, and could explain the motive. She +was a woman of high character, of great talent, and of repute in the +neighbourhood; and, as the judge remarked, there could be no possible +reason for doubting her word. Nothing also could be simpler or +prettier than the evidence of Miriam Usbech, as to whose fate and +destiny people at the time expressed much sympathy. That stupid young +clerk was responsible for the only weak part of the matter; but if he +proved nothing on one side, neither did he prove anything on the +other.</p> + +<p>This was the commencement of the great Orley Farm Case, and having +been then decided in favour of the infant it was allowed to slumber +for nearly twenty years. The codicil was confirmed, and Lady Mason +remained undisturbed in possession of the house, acting as guardian +for her child till he came of age, and indeed for some time beyond +that epoch. In the course of a page or two I shall beg my readers to +allow me to introduce this lady to their acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Miriam Usbech, of whom also we shall see something, remained at the +farm under Lady Mason's care till she married a young attorney, who +in process of time succeeded to such business as her father left +behind him. She suffered some troubles in life before she settled +down in the neighbouring country town as Mrs. Dockwrath, for she had +had another lover, the stupid young clerk who had so villainously +broken down in his evidence; and to this other lover, whom she had +been unable to bring herself to accept, Lady Mason had given her +favour and assistance. Poor Miriam was at that time a soft, mild-eyed +girl, easy to be led, one would have said; but in this matter Lady +Mason could not lead her. It was in vain to tell her that the +character of young Dockwrath did not stand high, and that young +Kenneby, the clerk, should be promoted to all manner of good things. +Soft and mild-eyed as Miriam was, Love was still the lord of all. In +this matter she would not be persuaded; and eventually she gave her +two thousand pounds to Samuel Dockwrath, the young attorney with the +questionable character.</p> + +<p>This led to no breach between her and her patroness. Lady Mason, +wishing to do the best for her young friend, had favoured John +Kenneby, but she was not a woman at all likely to quarrel on such a +ground as this. "Well, Miriam," she had said, "you must judge for +yourself, of course, in such a matter as this. You know my regard for +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, ma'am," said Miriam, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"And I shall always be glad to promote your welfare as Mrs. +Dockwrath, if possible. I can only say that I should have had more +satisfaction in attempting to do so for you as Mrs. Kenneby." But, in +spite of the seeming coldness of these words, Lady Mason had been +constant to her friend for many years, and had attended to her with +more or less active kindness in all the sorrows arising from an +annual baby and two sets of twins—a progeny which before the +commencement of my tale reached the serious number of sixteen, all +living.</p> + +<p>Among other solid benefits conferred by Lady Mason had been the +letting to Mr. Dockwrath of certain two fields, lying at the +extremity of the farm property, and quite adjacent to the town of +Hamworth in which old Mr. Usbech had resided. These had been let by +the year, at a rent not considered to be too high at that period, and +which had certainly become much lower in proportion to the value of +the land, as the town of Hamworth had increased. On these fields Mr. +Dockwrath expended some money, though probably not so much as he +averred; and when noticed to give them up at the period of young +Mason's coming of age, expressed himself terribly aggrieved.</p> + +<p>"Surely, Mr. Dockwrath, you are very ungrateful," Lady Mason had said +to him. But he had answered her with disrespectful words; and hence +had arisen an actual breach between her and poor Miriam's husband. "I +must say, Miriam, that Mr. Dockwrath is unreasonable," Lady Mason had +said. And what could a poor wife answer? "Oh! Lady Mason, pray let it +bide a time till it all comes right." But it never did come right; +and the affair of those two fields created the great Orley Farm Case, +which it will be our business to unravel.</p> + +<p>And now a word or two as to this Orley Farm. In the first place let +it be understood that the estate consisted of two farms. One, called +the Old Farm, was let to an old farmer named Greenwood, and had been +let to him and to his father for many years antecedent to the days of +the Masons. Mr. Greenwood held about three hundred acres of land, +paying with admirable punctuality over four hundred a year in rent, +and was regarded by all the Orley people as an institution on the +property. Then there was the farm-house and the land attached to it. +This was the residence in which Sir Joseph had lived, keeping in his +own hands this portion of the property. When first inhabited by him +the house was not fitted for more than the requirements of an +ordinary farmer, but he had gradually added to it and ornamented it +till it was commodious, irregular, picturesque, and straggling. When +he died, and during the occupation of his widow, it consisted of +three buildings of various heights, attached to each other, and +standing in a row. The lower contained a large kitchen, which had +been the living-room of the farm-house, and was surrounded by +bake-house, laundry, dairy, and servants' room, all of fair +dimensions. It was two stories high, but the rooms were low, and the +roof steep and covered with tiles. The next portion had been added by +Sir Joseph, then Mr. Mason, when he first thought of living at the +place. This also was tiled, and the rooms were nearly as low; but +there were three stories, and the building therefore was considerably +higher. For five-and-twenty years the farm-house, so arranged, had +sufficed for the common wants of Sir Joseph and his family; but when +he determined to give up his establishment in the City, he added on +another step to the house at Orley Farm. On this occasion he built a +good dining-room, with a drawing-room over it, and bed-room over +that; and this portion of the edifice was slated.</p> + +<p>The whole stood in one line fronting on to a large lawn which fell +steeply away from the house into an orchard at the bottom. This lawn +was cut in terraces, and here and there upon it there stood +apple-trees of ancient growth; for here had been the garden of the +old farm-house. They were large, straggling trees, such as do not +delight the eyes of modern gardeners; but they produced fruit by the +bushel, very sweet to the palate, though probably not so perfectly +round, and large, and handsome as those which the horticultural skill +of the present day requires. The face of the house from one end to +the other was covered with vines and passion-flowers, for the aspect +was due south; and as the whole of the later addition was faced by a +verandah, which also, as regarded the ground-floor, ran along the +middle building, the place in summer was pretty enough. As I have +said before, it was irregular and straggling, but at the same time +roomy and picturesque. Such was Orley Farm-house.</p> + +<p>There were about two hundred acres of land attached to it, together +with a large old-fashioned farm-yard, standing not so far from the +house as most gentlemen farmers might perhaps desire. The farm +buildings, however, were well hidden, for Sir Joseph, though he would +at no time go to the expense of constructing all anew, had spent more +money than such a proceeding would have cost him doctoring existing +evils and ornamenting the standing edifices. In doing this he had +extended the walls of a brewhouse, and covered them with creepers, so +as to shut out from the hall door the approach to the farm-yard, and +had put up a quarter of a mile of high ornamental paling for the same +purpose. He had planted an extensive shrubbery along the brow of the +hill at one side of the house, had built summer-houses, and sunk a +ha-ha fence below the orchard, and had contrived to give to the place +the unmistakable appearance of an English gentleman's country-house. +Nevertheless, Sir Joseph had never bestowed upon his estate, nor had +it ever deserved, a more grandiloquent name than that which it had +possessed of old.</p> + +<p>Orley Farm-house itself is somewhat more than a mile distant from the +town of Hamworth, but the land runs in the direction of the town, not +skirting the high road, but stretching behind the cottages which +stand along the pathway; and it terminates in those two fields +respecting which Mr. Dockwrath the attorney became so irrationally +angry at the period of which we are now immediately about to treat. +These fields lie on the steep slope of Hamworth Hill, and through +them runs the public path from the hamlet of Roxeth up to Hamworth +church; for, as all the world knows, Hamworth church stands high, and +is a landmark to the world for miles and miles around.</p> + +<p>Within a circuit of thirty miles from London no land lies more +beautifully circumstanced with regard to scenery than the country +about Hamworth; and its most perfect loveliness commences just beyond +the slopes of Orley Farm. There is a little village called +Coldharbour, consisting of some half-dozen cottages, situated +immediately outside Lady Mason's gate,—and it may as well be stated +here that this gate is but three hundred yards from the house, and is +guarded by no lodge. This village stands at the foot of Cleeve Hill. +The land hereabouts ceases to be fertile, and breaks away into heath +and common ground. Round the foot of the hill there are extensive +woods, all of which belong to Sir Peregrine Orme, the lord of the +manor. Sir Peregrine is not a rich man, not rich, that is, it being +borne in mind that he is a baronet, that he represented his county in +parliament for three or four sessions, and that his ancestors have +owned The Cleeve estate for the last four hundred years; but he is by +general repute the greatest man in these parts. We may expect to hear +more of him also as the story makes its way.</p> + +<p>I know many spots in England and in other lands, world-famous in +regard to scenery, which to my eyes are hardly equal to Cleeve Hill. +From the top of it you are told that you may see into seven counties; +but to me that privilege never possessed any value. I should not care +to see into seventeen counties, unless the country which spread +itself before my view was fair and lovely. The country which is so +seen from Cleeve Hill is exquisitely fair and lovely;—very fair, +with glorious fields of unsurpassed fertility, and lovely with oak +woods and brown open heaths which stretch away, hill after hill, down +towards the southern coast. I could greedily fill a long chapter with +the well-loved glories of Cleeve Hill; but it may be that we must +press its heather with our feet more than once in the course of our +present task, and if so, it will be well to leave something for those +coming visits.</p> + +<p>"Ungrateful! I'll let her know whether I owe her any gratitude. +Haven't I paid her her rent every half-year as it came due? what more +would she have? Ungrateful, indeed! She is one of those women who +think that you ought to go down on your knees to them if they only +speak civilly to you. I'll let her know whether I'm ungrateful."</p> + +<p>These words were spoken by angry Mr. Samuel Dockwrath to his wife, as +he stood up before his parlour-fire after breakfast, and the woman to +whom he referred was Lady Mason. Mr. Samuel Dockwrath was very angry +as he so spoke, or at any rate he seemed to be so. There are men who +take a delight in abusing those special friends whom their wives best +love, and Mr. Dockwrath was one of these. He had never given his +cordial consent to the intercourse which had hitherto existed between +the lady of Orley Farm and his household, although he had not +declined the substantial benefits which had accompanied it. His pride +had rebelled against the feeling of patronage, though his interest +had submitted to the advantages thence derived. A family of sixteen +children is a heavy burden for a country attorney with a small +practice, even though his wife may have had a fortune of two thousand +pounds; and thus Mr. Dockwrath, though he had never himself loved +Lady Mason, had permitted his wife to accept all those numberless +kindnesses which a lady with comfortable means and no children is +always able to bestow on a favoured neighbour who has few means and +many children. Indeed, he himself had accepted a great favour with +reference to the holding of those two fields, and had acknowledged as +much when first he took them into his hands some sixteen or seventeen +years back. But all that was forgotten now; and having held them for +so long a period, he bitterly felt the loss, and resolved that it +would ill become him as a man and an attorney to allow so deep an +injury to pass unnoticed. It may be, moreover, that Mr. Dockwrath was +now doing somewhat better in the world than formerly, and that he +could afford to give up Lady Mason, and to demand also that his wife +should give her up. Those trumpery presents from Orley Farm were very +well while he was struggling for bare bread, but now, now that he had +turned the corner,—now that by his divine art and mystery of law he +had managed to become master of that beautiful result of British +perseverance, a balance at his banker's, he could afford to indulge +his natural antipathy to a lady who had endeavoured in early life to +divert from him the little fortune which had started him in the +world.</p> + +<p>Miriam Dockwrath, as she sat on this morning, listening to her +husband's anger, with a sick little girl on her knee, and four or +five others clustering round her, half covered with their matutinal +bread and milk, was mild-eyed and soft as ever. Hers was a nature in +which softness would ever prevail;—softness, and that tenderness of +heart, always leaning, and sometimes almost crouching, of which a +mild eye is the outward sign. But her comeliness and prettiness were +gone. Female beauty of the sterner, grander sort may support the +burden of sixteen children, all living,—and still survive. I have +known it to do so, and to survive with much of its youthful glory. +But that mild-eyed, soft, round, plumpy prettiness gives way beneath +such a weight as that: years alone tell on it quickly; but children +and limited means combined with years leave to it hardly a chance.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very sorry," said the poor woman, worn with her many +cares.</p> + +<p>"Sorry; yes, and I'll make her sorry, the proud minx. There's an old +saying, that those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."</p> + +<p>"But, Samuel, I don't think she means to be doing you any harm. You +know she always did <span class="nowrap">say—</span> Don't, +Bessy; how can you put your fingers +into the basin in that way?"</p> + +<p>"Sam has taken my spoon away, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I'll let her know whether she's doing any harm or no. And what +signifies what was said sixteen years ago? Has she anything to show +in writing? As far as I know, nothing of the kind was said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I remember it, Samuel; I do indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you then that you had better not try to remember +anything about it. If you ain't quiet, Bob, I'll make you, pretty +quick; d'ye hear that? The fact is, your memory is not worth a curse. +Where are you to get milk for all those children, do you think, when +the fields are gone?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very sorry, Samuel."</p> + +<p>"Sorry; yes, and somebody else shall be sorry too. And look here, +Miriam, I won't have you going up to Orley Farm on any pretence +whatever; do you hear that?" and then, having given that imperative +command to his wife and slave, the lord and master of that +establishment walked forth into his office.</p> + +<p>On the whole Miriam Usbech might have done better had she followed +the advice of her patroness in early life, and married the stupid +clerk.</p> + + +<p><a name="c2" id="c2"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> +<h3>LADY MASON AND HER SON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I trust that it is already perceived by all persistent novel readers +that very much of the interest of this tale will be centred in the +person of Lady Mason. Such educated persons, however, will probably +be aware that she is not intended to be the heroine. The heroine, so +called, must by a certain fixed law be young and marriageable. Some +such heroine in some future number shall be forthcoming, with as much +of the heroic about her as may be found convenient; but for the +present let it be understood that the person and character of Lady +Mason is as important to us as can be those of any young lady, let +her be ever so gracious or ever so beautiful.</p> + +<p>In giving the details of her history, I do not know that I need go +back beyond her grandfather and grandmother, who were thoroughly +respectable people in the hardware line; I speak of those relatives +by the father's side. Her own parents had risen in the world,—had +risen from retail to wholesale, and considered themselves for a long +period of years to be good representatives of the commercial energy +and prosperity of Great Britain. But a fall had come upon them,—as a +fall does come very often to our excellent commercial +representatives—and Mr. Johnson was in the "Gazette." It would be +long to tell how old Sir Joseph Mason was concerned in these affairs, +how he acted as the principal assignee, and how ultimately he took to +his bosom as his portion of the assets of the estate, young Mary +Johnson, and made her his wife and mistress of Orley Farm. Of the +family of the Johnsons there were but three others, the father, the +mother, and a brother. The father did not survive the disgrace of his +bankruptcy, and the mother in process of time settled herself with +her son in one of the Lancashire manufacturing towns, where John +Johnson raised his head in business to some moderate altitude, Sir +Joseph having afforded much valuable assistance. There for the +present we will leave them.</p> + +<p>I do not think that Sir Joseph ever repented of the perilous deed he +did in marrying that young wife. His home for many years had been +desolate and solitary; his children had gone from him, and did not +come to visit him very frequently in his poor home at the farm. They +had become grander people than him, had been gifted with aspiring +minds, and in every turn and twist which they took, looked to do +something towards washing themselves clean from the dirt of the +counting-house. This was specially the case with Sir Joseph's son, to +whom the father had made over lands and money sufficient to enable +him to come before the world as a country gentleman with a coat of +arms on his coach-panel. It would be inconvenient for us to run off +to Groby Park at the present moment, and I will therefore say no more +just now as to Joseph junior, but will explain that Joseph senior was +not made angry by this neglect. He was a grave, quiet, rational man, +not however devoid of some folly; as indeed what rational man is so +devoid? He was burdened with an ambition to establish a family as the +result of his success in life; and having put forth his son into the +world with these views, was content that that son should act upon +them persistently. Joseph Mason, Esq., of Groby Park, in Yorkshire, +was now a county magistrate, and had made some way towards a footing +in the county society around him. With these hopes, and ambition such +as this, it was probably not expedient that he should spend much of +his time at Orley Farm. The three daughters were circumstanced much +in the same way: they had all married gentlemen, and were bent on +rising in the world; moreover, the steadfast resolution of purpose +which characterised their father was known by them all,—and by their +husbands: they had received their fortunes, with some settled +contingencies to be forthcoming on their father's demise; why, then, +trouble the old gentleman at Orley Farm?</p> + +<p>Under such circumstances the old gentleman married his young +wife,—to the great disgust of his four children. They of course +declared to each other, corresponding among themselves by letter, +that the old gentleman had positively disgraced himself. It was +impossible that they should make any visits whatever to Orley Farm +while such a mistress of the house was there;—and the daughters did +make no such visits. Joseph, the son, whose monetary connection with +his father was as yet by no means fixed and settled in its nature, +did make one such visit, and then received his father's assurance—so +at least he afterwards said and swore—that this marriage should by +no means interfere with the expected inheritance of the Orley Farm +acres. But at that time no young son had been born,—nor, probably, +was any such young son expected.</p> + +<p>The farm-house became a much brighter abode for the old man, for the +few years which were left to him, after he had brought his young wife +home. She was quiet, sensible, clever, and unremitting in her +attention. She burthened him with no requests for gay society, and +took his home as she found it, making the best of it for herself, and +making it for him much better than he had ever hitherto known it. His +own children had always looked down upon him, regarding him merely as +a coffer from whence money might be had; and he, though he had never +resented this contempt, had in a certain measure been aware of it. +But there was no such feeling shown by his wife. She took the +benefits which he gave her graciously and thankfully, and gave back +to him in return, certainly her care and time, and apparently her +love. For herself, in the way of wealth and money, she never asked +for anything.</p> + +<p>And then the baby had come, young Lucius Mason, and there was of +course great joy at Orley Farm. The old father felt that the world +had begun again for him, very delightfully, and was more than ever +satisfied with his wisdom in regard to that marriage. But the very +genteel progeny of his early youth were more than ever dissatisfied, +and in their letters among themselves dealt forth harder and still +harder words upon poor Sir Joseph. What terrible things might he not +be expected to do now that his dotage was coming on? Those three +married ladies had no selfish fears—so at least they declared, but +they united in imploring their brother to look after his interests at +Orley Farm. How dreadfully would the young heir of Groby be curtailed +in his dignities and seignories if it should be found at the last day +that Orley Farm was not to be written in his rent-roll!</p> + +<p>And then, while they were yet bethinking themselves how they might +best bestir themselves, news arrived that Sir Joseph had suddenly +died. Sir Joseph was dead, and the will when read contained a codicil +by which that young brat was made the heir to the Orley Farm estate. +I have said that Lady Mason during her married life had never asked +of her husband anything for herself; but in the law proceedings which +were consequent upon Sir Joseph's death, it became abundantly evident +that she had asked him for much for her son,—and that she had been +specific in her requests, urging him to make a second heir, and to +settle Orley Farm upon her own boy, Lucius. She herself stated that +she had never done this except in the presence of a third person. She +had often done so in the presence of Mr. Usbech the attorney,—as to +which Mr. Usbech was not alive to testify; and she had also done so +more than once in the presence of Mr. Furnival, a barrister,—as to +which Mr. Furnival, being alive, did testify—very strongly.</p> + +<p>As to that contest nothing further need now be said. It resulted in +the favour of young Lucius Mason, and therefore, also, in the favour +of the widow;—in the favour moreover of Miriam Usbech, and thus +ultimately in the favour of Mr. Samuel Dockwrath, who is now showing +himself to be so signally ungrateful. Joseph Mason, however, retired +from the battle nothing convinced. His father, he said, had been an +old fool, an ass, an idiot, a vulgar, ignorant fool; but he was not a +man to break his word. That signature to the codicil might be his or +might not. If his, it had been obtained by fraud. What could be +easier than to cheat an old doting fool? Many men agreed with Joseph +Mason, thinking that Usbech the attorney had perpetrated this +villainy on behalf of his daughter; but Joseph Mason would believe, +or say that he believed—a belief in which none but his sisters +joined him,—that Lady Mason herself had been the villain. He was +minded to press the case on to a Court of Appeal, up even to the +House of Lords; but he was advised that in doing so he would spend +more money than Orley Farm was worth, and that he would, almost to a +certainty, spend it in vain. Under this advice he cursed the laws of +his country, and withdrew to Groby Park.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason had earned the respect of all those around her by the way +in which she bore herself in the painful days of the trial, and also +in those of her success,—especially also by the manner in which she +gave her evidence. And thus, though she had not been much noticed by +her neighbours during the short period of her married life, she was +visited as a widow by many of the more respectable people round +Hamworth. In all this she showed no feeling of triumph; she never +abused her husband's relatives, or spoke much of the harsh manner in +which she had been used. Indeed, she was not given to talk about her +own personal affairs; and although, as I have said, many of her +neighbours visited her, she did not lay herself out for society. She +accepted and returned their attention, but for the most part seemed +to be willing that the matter should so rest. The people around by +degrees came to know her ways, they spoke to her when they met her, +and occasionally went through the ceremony of a morning call; but did +not ask her to their tea-parties, and did not expect to see her at +picnic and archery meetings.</p> + +<p>Among those who took her by the hand in the time of her great trouble +was Sir Peregrine Orme of The Cleeve,—for such was the name which +had belonged time out of mind to his old mansion and park. Sir +Peregrine was a gentleman now over seventy years of age, whose family +consisted of the widow of his only son, and the only son of that +widow, who was of course the heir to his estate and title. Sir +Peregrine was an excellent old man, as I trust may hereafter be +acknowledged; but his regard for Lady Mason was perhaps in the first +instance fostered by his extreme dislike to her stepson, Joseph Mason +of Groby. Mr. Joseph Mason of Groby was quite as rich a man as Sir +Peregrine, and owned an estate which was nearly as large as The +Cleeve property; but Sir Peregrine would not allow that he was a +gentleman, or that he could by any possible transformation become +one. He had not probably ever said so in direct words to any of the +Mason family, but his opinion on the matter had in some way worked +its way down to Yorkshire, and therefore there was no love to spare +between these two county magistrates. There had been a slight +acquaintance between Sir Peregrine and Sir Joseph; but the ladies of +the two families had never met till after the death of the latter. +Then, while that trial was still pending, Mrs. Orme had come forward +at the instigation of her father-in-law, and by degrees there had +grown up an intimacy between the two widows. When the first offers of +assistance were made and accepted, Sir Peregrine no doubt did not at +all dream of any such result as this. His family pride, and +especially the pride which he took in his widowed daughter-in-law, +would probably have been shocked by such a surmise; but, +nevertheless, he had seen the friendship grow and increase without +alarm. He himself had become attached to Lady Mason, and had +gradually learned to excuse in her that want of gentle blood and +early breeding which as a rule he regarded as necessary to a +gentleman, and from which alone, as he thought, could spring many of +those excellences which go to form the character of a lady.</p> + +<p>It may therefore be asserted that Lady Mason's widowed life was +successful. That it was prudent and well conducted no one could +doubt. Her neighbours of course did say of her that she would not +drink tea with Mrs. Arkwright of Mount Pleasant villa because she was +allowed the privilege of entering Sir Peregrine's drawing-room; but +such little scandal as this was a matter of course. Let one live +according to any possible or impossible rule, yet some offence will +be given in some quarter. Those who knew anything of Lady Mason's +private life were aware that she did not encroach on Sir Peregrine's +hospitality. She was not at The Cleeve as much as circumstances would +have justified, and at one time by no means so much as Mrs. Orme +would have desired.</p> + +<p>In person she was tall and comely. When Sir Joseph had brought her to +his house she had been very fair,—tall, slight, fair, and very +quiet,—not possessing that loveliness which is generally most +attractive to men, because the beauty of which she might boast +depended on form rather than on the brightness of her eye, or the +softness of her cheek and lips. Her face too, even at that age, +seldom betrayed emotion, and never showed signs either of anger or of +joy. Her forehead was high, and though somewhat narrow, nevertheless +gave evidence of considerable mental faculties; nor was the evidence +false, for those who came to know Lady Mason well, were always ready +to acknowledge that she was a woman of no ordinary power. Her eyes +were large and well formed, but somewhat cold. Her nose was long and +regular. Her mouth also was very regular, and her teeth perfectly +beautiful; but her lips were straight and thin. It would sometimes +seem that she was all teeth, and yet it is certain that she never +made an effort to show them. The great fault of her face was in her +chin, which was too small and sharp, thus giving on occasions +something of meanness to her countenance. She was now forty-seven +years of age, and had a son who had reached man's estate; and yet +perhaps she had more of woman's beauty at this present time than when +she stood at the altar with Sir Joseph Mason. The quietness and +repose of her manner suited her years and her position; age had given +fulness to her tall form; and the habitual sadness of her countenance +was in fair accordance with her condition and character. And yet she +was not really sad,—at least so said those who knew her. The +melancholy was in her face rather than in her character, which was +full of energy,—if energy may be quiet as well as assured and +constant.</p> + +<p>Of course she had been accused a dozen times of matrimonial +prospects. What handsome widow is not so accused? The world of +Hamworth had been very certain at one time that she was intent on +marrying Sir Peregrine Orme. But she had not married, and I think I +may say on her behalf that she had never thought of marrying. Indeed, +one cannot see how such a woman could make any effort in that line. +It was impossible to conceive that a lady so staid in her manner +should be guilty of flirting; nor was there any man within ten miles +of Hamworth who would have dared to make the attempt. Women for the +most part are prone to love-making—as nature has intended that they +should be; but there are women from whom all such follies seem to be +as distant as skittles and beer are distant from the dignity of the +Lord Chancellor. Such a woman was Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>At this time—the time which is about to exist for us as the period +at which our narrative will begin—Lucius Mason was over twenty-two +years old, and was living at the farm. He had spent the last three or +four years of his life in Germany, where his mother had visited him +every year, and had now come home intending to be the master of his +own destiny. His mother's care for him during his boyhood, and up to +the time at which he became of age, had been almost elaborate in its +thoughtfulness. She had consulted Sir Peregrine as to his school, and +Sir Peregrine, looking to the fact of the lad's own property, and +also to the fact, known by him, of Lady Mason's means for such a +purpose, had recommended Harrow. But the mother had hesitated, had +gently discussed the matter, and had at last persuaded the baronet +that such a step would be injudicious. The boy was sent to a private +school of a high character, and Sir Peregrine was sure that he had +been so sent at his own advice. "Looking at the peculiar position of +his mother," said Sir Peregrine to his young daughter-in-law, "at her +very peculiar position, and that of his relatives, I think it will be +better that he should not appear to assume anything early in life; +nothing can be better conducted than Mr. Crabfield's establishment, +and after much consideration I have had no hesitation in recommending +her to send her son to him." And thus Lucius Mason had been sent to +Mr. Crabfield, but I do not think that the idea originated with Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"And perhaps it will be as well," added the baronet, "that he and +Perry should not be together at school, though I have no objection to +their meeting in the holidays. Mr. Crabfield's vacations are always +timed to suit the Harrow holidays." The Perry here mentioned was the +grandson of Sir Peregrine—the young Peregrine who in coming days was +to be the future lord of The Cleeve. When Lucius Mason was modestly +sent to Mr. Crabfield's establishment at Great Marlow, young +Peregrine Orme, with his prouder hopes, commenced his career at the +public school.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crabfield did his duty by Lucius Mason, and sent him home at +seventeen a handsome, well-mannered lad, tall and comely to the eye, +with soft brown whiskers sprouting on his cheek, well grounded in +Greek, Latin, and Euclid, grounded also in French and Italian, and +possessing many more acquirements than he would have learned at +Harrow. But added to these, or rather consequent on them, was a +conceit which public-school education would not have created. When +their mothers compared them in the holidays, not openly with +outspoken words, but silently in their hearts, Lucius Mason was found +by each to be the superior both in manners and knowledge; but each +acknowledged also that there was more of ingenuous boyhood about +Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>Peregrine Orme was a year the younger, and therefore his comparative +deficiencies were not the cause of any intense sorrow at The Cleeve; +but his grandfather would probably have been better satisfied—and +perhaps also so would his mother—had he been less addicted to the +catching of rats, and better inclined towards Miss Edgeworth's novels +and Shakespeare's plays, which were earnestly recommended to him by +the lady and the gentleman. But boys generally are fond of rats, and +very frequently are not fond of reading; and therefore, all this +having been duly considered, there was not much deep sorrow in those +days at The Cleeve as to the boyhood of the heir.</p> + +<p>But there was great pride at Orley Farm, although that pride was +shown openly to no one. Lady Mason in her visits at The Cleeve said +but little as to her son's present excellences. As to his future +career in life she did say much both to Sir Peregrine and to Mrs. +Orme, asking the council of the one and expressing her fears to the +other; and then, Sir Peregrine having given his consent, she sent the +lad to Germany.</p> + +<p>He was allowed to come of age without any special signs of manhood, +or aught of the glory of property; although, in his case, that coming +of age did put him into absolute possession of his inheritance. On +that day, had he been so minded, he could have turned his mother out +of the farm-house, and taken exclusive possession of the estate; but +he did in fact remain in Germany for a year beyond this period, and +returned to Orley Farm only in time to be present at the celebration +of the twenty-first birthday of his friend Peregrine Orme. This +ceremony, as may be surmised, was by no means slurred over without +due rejoicing. The heir at the time was at Christchurch; but at such +a period a slight interruption to his studies was not to be lamented. +There had been Sir Peregrine Ormes in those parts ever since the days +of James I; and indeed in days long antecedent to those there had +been knights bearing that name, some of whom had been honourably +beheaded for treason, others imprisoned for heresy; and one made away +with on account of a supposed royal amour,—to the great +glorification of all his descendants. Looking to the antecedents of +the family, it was only proper that the coming of age of the heir +should be duly celebrated; but Lucius Mason had had no antecedents; +no great-great-grandfather of his had knelt at the feet of an +improper princess; and therefore Lady Mason, though she had been at +The Cleeve, had not mentioned the fact that on that very day her son +had become a man. But when Peregrine Orme became a man—though still +in his manhood too much devoted to rats—she gloried greatly in her +quiet way, and whispered a hope into the baronet's ear that the young +heir would not imitate the ambition of his ancestor. "No, by Jove! it +would not do now at all," said Sir Peregrine, by no means displeased +at the allusion.</p> + +<p>And then that question as to the future life of Lucius Mason became +one of great importance, and it was necessary to consult, not only +Sir Peregrine Orme, but the young man himself. His mother had +suggested to him first the law: the great Mr. Furnival, formerly of +the home circuit, but now practising only in London, was her very +special friend, and would give her and her son all possible aid in +this direction. And what living man could give better aid than the +great Mr. Furnival? But Lucius Mason would have none of the law. This +resolve he pronounced very clearly while yet in Germany, whither his +mother visited him, bearing with her a long letter written by the +great Mr. Furnival himself. But nevertheless young Mason would have +none of the law. "I have an idea," he said, "that lawyers are all +liars." Whereupon his mother rebuked him for his conceited ignorance +and want of charity; but she did not gain her point.</p> + +<p>She had, however, another string to her bow. As he objected to be a +lawyer, he might become a civil engineer. Circumstances had made Sir +Peregrine Orme very intimate with the great Mr. Brown. Indeed, Mr. +Brown was under great obligations to Sir Peregrine, and Sir Peregrine +had promised to use his influence. But Lucius Mason said that civil +engineers were only tradesmen of an upper class, tradesmen with +intellects; and he, he said, wished to use his intellect, but he did +not choose to be a tradesman. His mother rebuked him again, as well +he deserved that she should,—and then asked him of what profession +he himself had thought. "Philology," said he; "or as a profession, +perhaps literature. I shall devote myself to philology and the races +of man. Nothing considerable has been done with them as a combined +pursuit." And with these views he returned home—while Peregrine Orme +at Oxford was still addicted to the hunting of rats.</p> + +<p>But with philology and the races of man he consented to combine the +pursuit of agriculture. When his mother found that he wished to take +up his abode in his own house, she by no means opposed him, and +suggested that, as such was his intention, he himself should farm his +own land. He was very ready to do this, and had she not represented +that such a step was in every way impolitic, he would willingly have +requested Mr. Greenwood of the Old Farm to look elsewhere, and have +spread himself and his energies over the whole domain. As it was he +contented himself with desiring that Mr. Dockwrath would vacate his +small holding, and as he was imperative as to that his mother gave +way without making it the cause of a battle. She would willingly have +left Mr. Dockwrath in possession, and did say a word or two as to the +milk necessary for those sixteen children. But Lucius Mason was ducal +in his ideas, and intimated an opinion that he had a right to do what +he liked with his own. Had not Mr. Dockwrath been told, when the +fields were surrendered to him as a favour, that he would only have +them in possession till the heir should come of age? Mr. Dockwrath +had been so told; but tellings such as these are easily forgotten by +men with sixteen children. And thus Mr. Mason became an agriculturist +with special scientific views as to chemistry, and a philologist with +the object of making that pursuit bear upon his studies with +reference to the races of man. He was convinced that by certain +admixtures of ammonia and earths he could produce cereal results +hitherto unknown to the farming world, and that by tracing out the +roots of words he could trace also the wanderings of man since the +expulsion of Adam from the garden. As to the latter question his +mother was not inclined to contradict him. Seeing that he would sit +at the feet neither of Mr. Furnival nor of Mr. Brown, she had no +objection to the races of man. She could endure to be talked to about +the Oceanic Mongolidae and the Iapetidae of the Indo-Germanic class, +and had perhaps her own ideas that such matters, though somewhat +foggy, were better than rats. But when he came to the other subject, +and informed her that the properly plentiful feeding of the world was +only kept waiting for the chemists, she certainly did have her fears. +Chemical agriculture is expensive; and though the results may +possibly be remunerative, still, while we are thus kept waiting by +the backwardness of the chemists, there must be much risk in making +any serious expenditure with such views.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said, when he had now been at home about three months, +and when the fiat for the expulsion of Samuel Dockwrath had already +gone forth, "I shall go to Liverpool to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"To Liverpool, Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That guano which I got from Walker is adulterated. I have +analyzed it, and find that it does not contain above thirty-two and a +half hundredths of—of that which it ought to hold in a proportion of +seventy-five per cent. of the whole."</p> + +<p>"Does it not?"</p> + +<p>"No; and it is impossible to obtain results while one is working with +such fictitious materials. Look at that bit of grass at the bottom of +Greenwood's Hill."</p> + +<p>"The fifteen-acre field? Why, Lucius, we always had the heaviest +crops of hay in the parish off that meadow."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, mother; but you have never tried,—nobody +about here ever has tried, what the land can really produce. I will +throw that and the three fields beyond it into one; I will get +Greenwood to let me have that bit of the hill-side, giving him +compensation of <span class="nowrap">course—"</span></p> + +<p>"And then Dockwrath would want compensation."</p> + +<p>"Dockwrath is an impertinent rascal, and I shall take an opportunity +of telling him so. But as I was saying, I will throw those seventy +acres together, and then I will try what will be the relative effects +of guano and the patent blood, But I must have real guano, and so I +shall go to Liverpool."</p> + +<p>"I think I would wait a little, Lucius. It is almost too late for any +change of that kind this year."</p> + +<p>"Wait! Yes, and what has come of waiting? We don't wait at all in +doubling our population every thirty-three years; but when we come to +the feeding of them we are always for waiting. It is that waiting +which has reduced the intellectual development of one half of the +human race to its present terribly low state—or rather prevented its +rising in a degree proportionate to the increase of the population. +No more waiting for me, mother, if I can help it."</p> + +<p>"But, Lucius, should not such new attempts as that be made by men +with large capital?" said the mother.</p> + +<p>"Capital is a bugbear," said the son, speaking on this matter quite +<i>ex cathedrâ</i>, as no doubt he was entitled to do by his extensive +reading at a German university—"capital is a bugbear. The capital +that is really wanting is thought, mind, combination, knowledge."</p> + +<p>"But, Lucius—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know what you are going to say, mother. I don't boast that I +possess all these things; but I do say that I will endeavour to +obtain them."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt you will; but should not that come first?"</p> + +<p>"That is waiting again. We all know as much as this, that good manure +will give good crops if the sun be allowed full play upon the land, +and nothing but the crop be allowed to grow. That is what I shall +attempt at first, and there can be no great danger in that." And so +he went to Liverpool.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason during his absence began to regret that she had not left +him in the undisturbed and inexpensive possession of the Mongolidae +and the Iapetidae. His rent from the estate, including that which she +would have paid him as tenant of the smaller farm, would have enabled +him to live with all comfort; and, if such had been his taste, he +might have become a philosophical student, and lived respectably +without adding anything to his income by the sweat of his brow. But +now the matter was likely to become serious enough. For a gentleman +farmer determined to wait no longer for the chemists, whatever might +be the results, an immediate profitable return per acre could not be +expected as one of them. Any rent from that smaller farm would now be +out of the question, and it would be well if the payments made so +punctually by old Mr. Greenwood were not also swallowed up in the +search after unadulterated guano. Who could tell whether in the +pursuit of science he might not insist on chartering a vessel, +himself, for the Peruvian coast?</p> + + +<p><a name="c3" id="c3"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> +<h3>THE CLEEVE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I have said that Sir Peregrine Orme was not a rich man, meaning +thereby that he was not a rich man considering his acknowledged +position in the county. Such men not uncommonly have their tens, +twelves, and twenty thousands a year; but Sir Peregrine's estate did +not give him above three or four. He was lord of the manor of +Hamworth, and possessed seignorial rights, or rather the skeleton and +remembrance of such rights with reference to a very large district of +country; but his actual property—that from which he still received +the substantial benefits of ownership—was not so large as those of +some of his neighbours. There was, however, no place within the +county which was so beautifully situated as The Cleeve, or which had +about it so many of the attractions of age. The house itself had been +built at two periods,—a new set of rooms having been added to the +remains of the old Elizabethan structure in the time of Charles II. +It had not about it anything that was peculiarly grand or imposing, +nor were the rooms large or even commodious; but everything was old, +venerable, and picturesque. Both the dining-room and the library were +panelled with black wainscoating; and though the drawing-rooms were +papered, the tall, elaborately-worked wooden chimney-pieces still +stood in them, and a wooden band or belt round the rooms showed that +the panels were still there, although hidden by the modern paper.</p> + +<p>But it was for the beauty and wildness of its grounds that The Cleeve +was remarkable. The land fell here and there into narrow, wild +ravines and woody crevices. The soil of the park was not rich, and +could give but little assistance to the chemists in supplying the +plentiful food expected by Mr. Mason for the coming multitudes of the +world; it produced in some parts heather instead of grass, and was as +wild and unprofitable as Cleeve Common, which stretched for miles +outside the park palings; but it seemed admirably adapted for deer +and for the maintenance of half-decayed venerable oaks. Young timber +also throve well about the place, and in this respect Sir Peregrine +was a careful landlord. There ran a river through the park,—the +River Cleeve, from which the place and parish are said to have taken +their names;—a river, or rather a stream, very narrow and +inconsiderable as to its volume of water, but which passed for some +two miles through so narrow a passage as to give to it the appearance +of a cleft or fissure in the rocks. The water tumbled over stones +through this entire course, making it seem to be fordable almost +everywhere without danger of wet feet; but in truth there was hardly +a spot at which it could be crossed without a bold leap from rock to +rock. Narrow as was the aperture through which the water had cut its +way, nevertheless a path had been contrived now on one side of the +stream and now on the other, crossing it here and there by slight +hanging wooden bridges. The air here was always damp with spray, and +the rocks on both sides were covered with long mosses, as were also +the overhanging boughs of the old trees. This place was the glory of +The Cleeve, and as far as picturesque beauty goes it was very +glorious. There was a spot in the river from whence a steep path led +down from the park to the water, and at this spot the deer would come +to drink. I know nothing more beautiful than this sight, when three +or four of them could be so seen from one of the wooden bridges +towards the hour of sunset in the autumn.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine himself at this time was an old man, having passed his +seventieth year. He was a fine, handsome English gentleman with white +hair, keen gray eyes, a nose slightly aquiline, and lips now too +closely pressed together in consequence of the havoc which time had +made among his teeth. He was tall, but had lost something of his +height from stooping,—was slight in his form, but well made, and +vain of the smallness of his feet and the whiteness of his hands. He +was generous, quick tempered, and opinionated; generally very mild to +those who would agree with him and submit to him, but intolerant of +contradiction, and conceited as to his experience of the world and +the wisdom which he had thence derived. To those who were manifestly +his inferiors he was affable, to his recognised equals he was +courteous, to women he was almost always gentle;—but to men who +claimed an equality which he would not acknowledge, he could make +himself particularly disagreeable. In judging the position which a +man should hold in the world, Sir Peregrine was very resolute in +ignoring all claims made by wealth alone. Even property in land could +not in his eyes create a gentleman. A gentleman, according to his +ideas, should at any rate have great-grandfathers capable of being +traced in the world's history; and the greater the number of such, +and the more easily traceable they might be on the world's surface, +the more unquestionable would be the status of the claimant in +question. Such being the case, it may be imagined that Joseph Mason, +Esq., of Groby Park did not rank high in the estimation of Sir +Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>I have said that Sir Peregrine was fond of his own opinion; but +nevertheless he was a man whom it was by no means difficult to lead. +In the first place he was singularly devoid of suspicion. The word of +a man or of a woman was to him always credible, until full proof had +come home to him that it was utterly unworthy of credit. After that +such a man or woman might as well spare all speech as regards the +hope of any effect on the mind of Sir Peregrine Orme. He did not +easily believe a fellow-creature to be a liar, but a liar to him once +was a liar always. And then he was amenable to flattery, and few that +are so are proof against the leading-strings of their flatterers. All +this was well understood of Sir Peregrine by those about him. His +gardener, his groom, and his woodman all knew his foibles. They all +loved him, respected him, and worked for him faithfully; but each of +them had his own way in his own branch.</p> + +<p>And there was another person at The Cleeve who took into her own +hands a considerable share of the management and leading of Sir +Peregrine, though, in truth, she made no efforts in that direction. +This was Mrs. Orme, the widow of his only child, and the mother of +his heir. Mrs. Orme was a younger woman than Mrs. Mason of Orley Farm +by nearly five years, though her son was but twelve months junior to +Lucius Mason. She had been the daughter of a brother baronet, whose +family was nearly as old as that of the Ormes; and therefore, though +she had come penniless to her husband, Sir Peregrine had considered +that his son had married well. She had been a great beauty, very +small in size and delicate of limb, fair haired, with soft blue +wondering eyes, and a dimpled cheek. Such she had been when young +Peregrine Orme brought her home to The Cleeve, and the bride at once +became the darling of her father-in-law. One year she had owned of +married joy, and then all the happiness of the family had been +utterly destroyed, and for the few following years there had been no +sadder household in all the country-side than that of Sir Peregrine +Orme. His son, his only son, the pride of all who knew him, the hope +of his political party in the county, the brightest among the bright +ones of the day for whom the world was just opening her richest +treasures, fell from his horse as he was crossing into a road, and +his lifeless body was brought home to The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>All this happened now twenty years since, but the widow still wears +the colours of mourning. Of her also the world of course said that +she would soon console herself with a second love; but she too has +given the world the lie. From that day to the present she has never +left the house of her father-in-law; she has been a true child to +him, and she has enjoyed all a child's privileges. There has been but +little favour for any one at The Cleeve who has been considered by +the baronet to disregard the wishes of the mistress of the +establishment. Any word from her has been law to him, and he has of +course expected also that her word should be law to others. He has +yielded to her in all things, and attended to her will as though she +were a little queen, recognizing in her feminine weakness a sovereign +power, as some men can and do; and having thus for years indulged +himself in a quixotic gallantry to the lady of his household, he has +demanded of others that they also should bow the knee.</p> + +<p>During the last twenty years The Cleeve has not been a gay house. +During the last ten those living there have been contented, and in +the main happy; but there has seldom been many guests in the old +hall, and Sir Peregrine has not been fond of going to other men's +feasts. He inherited the property very early in life, and then there +were on it some few encumbrances. While yet a young man he added +something to these, and now, since his own son's death, he has been +setting his house in order, that his grandson should receive the +family acres intact. Every shilling due on the property has been paid +off; and it is well that this should be so, for there is reason to +fear that the heir will want a helping hand out of some of youth's +difficulties,—perhaps once or twice before his passion for rats +gives place to a good English gentleman-like resolve to hunt twice a +week, look after his timber, and live well within his means.</p> + +<p>The chief fault in the character of young Peregrine Orme was that he +was so young. There are men who are old at one-and-twenty,—are quite +fit for Parliament, the magistrate's bench, the care of a wife, and +even for that much sterner duty, the care of a balance at the +bankers; but there are others who at that age are still boys,—whose +inner persons and characters have not begun to clothe themselves with +the "toga virilis." I am not sure that those whose boyhoods are so +protracted have the worst of it, if in this hurrying and competitive +age they can be saved from being absolutely trampled in the dust +before they are able to do a little trampling on their own account. +Fruit that grows ripe the quickest is not the sweetest; nor when +housed and garnered will it keep the longest. For young Peregrine +there was no need of competitive struggles. The days have not yet +come, though they are no doubt coming, when "detur digniori" shall be +the rule of succession to all titles, honours, and privileges +whatsoever. Only think what a life it would give to the education of +the country in general, if any lad from seventeen to twenty-one could +go in for a vacant dukedom; and if a goodly inheritance could be made +absolutely incompatible with incorrect spelling and doubtful +proficiency in rule of three!</p> + +<p>Luckily for Peregrine junior these days are not yet at hand, or I +fear that there would be little chance for him. While Lucius Mason +was beginning to think that the chemists might be hurried, and that +agriculture might be beneficially added to philology, our friend +Peregrine had just been rusticated, and the head of his college had +intimated to the baronet that it would be well to take the young +man's name off the college books. This accordingly had been done, and +the heir of The Cleeve was at present at home with his mother and +grandfather. What special act of grace had led to this severity we +need not inquire, but we may be sure that the frolics of which he had +been guilty had been essentially young in their nature. He had +assisted in driving a farmer's sow into the man's best parlour, or +had daubed the top of the tutor's cap with white paint, or had +perhaps given liberty to a bag full of rats in the college hall at +dinner-time. Such were the youth's academical amusements, and as they +were pursued with unremitting energy it was thought well that he +should be removed from Oxford.</p> + +<p>Then had come the terrible question of his university bills. One +after another, half a score of them reached Sir Peregrine, and then +took place that terrible interview,—such as most young men have had +to undergo at least once,—in which he was asked how he intended to +absolve himself from the pecuniary liabilities which he had incurred.</p> + +<p>"I am sure I don't know," said young Orme, sadly.</p> + +<p>"But I shall be glad, sir, if you will favour me with your +intentions," said Sir Peregrine, with severity. "A gentleman does +not, I presume, send his orders to a tradesman without having some +intention of paying him for his goods."</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill02" id="ill02"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill02.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill02-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Sir Peregrine and his heir." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Sir Peregrine and his heir.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill02.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"I intended that they should all be paid, of course."</p> + +<p>"And how, sir? by whom?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir,—I suppose I intended that you should pay them;" and the +scapegrace as he spoke looked full up into the baronet's face with +his bright blue eyes,—not impudently, as though defying his +grandfather, but with a bold confidence which at once softened the +old man's heart.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine turned away and walked twice the length of the library; +then, returning to the spot where the other stood, he put his hand on +his grandson's shoulder. "Well, Peregrine, I will pay them," he said. +"I have no doubt that you did so intend when you incurred them;—and +that was perhaps natural. I will pay them; but for your own sake, and +for your dear mother's sake, I hope that they are not very heavy. Can +you give me a list of all that you owe?"</p> + +<p>Young Peregrine said that he thought he could, and sitting down at +once he made a clean breast of it. With all his foibles, follies, and +youthful ignorances, in two respects he stood on good ground. He was +neither false nor a coward. He continued to scrawl down items as long +as there were any of which he could think, and then handed over the +list in order that his grandfather might add them up. It was the last +he ever heard of the matter; and when he revisited Oxford some twelve +months afterwards, the tradesmen whom he had honoured with his custom +bowed to him as low as though he had already inherited twenty +thousand a year.</p> + +<p>Peregrine Orme was short in stature as was his mother, and he also +had his mother's wonderfully bright blue eyes; but in other respects +he was very like his father and grandfather;—very like all the Ormes +who had lived for ages past. His hair was light; his forehead was not +large, but well formed and somewhat prominent; his nose had +something, though not much, of the eagle's beak; his mouth was +handsome in its curve, and his teeth were good, and his chin was +divided by a deep dimple. His figure was not only short, but stouter +than that of the Ormes in general. He was very strong on his legs; he +could wrestle, and box, and use the single-stick with a quickness and +precision that was the terror of all the freshmen who had come in his +way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme, his mother, no doubt thought that he was perfect. Looking +at the reflex of her own eyes in his, and seeing in his face so sweet +a portraiture of the nose and mouth and forehead of him whom she had +loved so dearly and lost so soon, she could not but think him +perfect. When she was told that the master of Lazarus had desired +that her son should be removed from his college, she had accused the +tyrant of unrelenting, persecuting tyranny; and the gentle arguments +of Sir Peregrine had no effect towards changing her ideas. On that +disagreeable matter of the bills little or nothing was said to her. +Indeed, money was a subject with which she was never troubled. Sir +Peregrine conceived that money was a man's business, and that the +softness of a woman's character should be preserved by a total +absence of all pecuniary thoughts and cares.</p> + +<p>And then there arose at The Cleeve a question as to what should +immediately be done with the heir. He himself was by no means so well +prepared with an answer as had been his friend Lucius Mason. When +consulted by his grandfather, he said that he did not know. He would +do anything that Sir Peregrine wished. Would Sir Peregrine think it +well that he should prepare himself for the arduous duties of a +master of hounds? Sir Peregrine did not think this at all well, but +it did not appear that he himself was prepared with any immediate +proposition. Then Peregrine discussed the matter with his mother, +explaining that he had hoped at any rate to get the next winter's +hunting with the H.H.;—which letters have represented the Hamworth +Fox Hunt among sporting men for many years past. To this his mother +made no objection, expressing a hope, however, that he would go +abroad in the spring. "Home-staying youths have ever homely wits," +she said to him, smiling on him ever so sweetly.</p> + +<p>"That's quite true, mother," he said. "And that's why I should like +to go to Leicestershire this winter." But going to Leicestershire +this winter was out of the question.</p> + + +<p><a name="c4" id="c4"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> +<h3>THE PERILS OF YOUTH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Going to Leicestershire was quite out of the question for young Orme +at this period of his life, but going to London unfortunately was not +so. He had become acquainted at Oxford with a gentleman of great +skill in his peculiar line of life, whose usual residence was in the +metropolis; and so great had been the attraction found in the +character and pursuits of this skilful gentleman, that our hero had +not been long at The Cleeve, after his retirement from the +university, before he visited his friend. Cowcross Street, +Smithfield, was the site of this professor's residence, the +destruction of rats in a barrel was his profession, and his name was +Carroty Bob. It is not my intention to introduce the reader to +Carroty Bob in person, as circumstances occurred about this time +which brought his intimacy with Mr. Orme to an abrupt conclusion. It +would be needless to tell how our hero was induced to back a certain +terrier, presumed to be the pride of Smithfield; how a great match +came off, second only in importance to a contest for the belt of +England; how money was lost and quarrels arose, and how Peregrine +Orme thrashed one sporting gent within an inch of his life, and +fought his way out of Carroty Bob's house at twelve o'clock at night. +The tale of the row got into the newspapers, and of course reached +The Cleeve. Sir Peregrine sent for his grandson into his study, and +insisted on knowing everything;—how much money there was to pay, and +what chance there might be of an action and damages. Of an action and +damages there did not seem to be any chance, and the amount of money +claimed was not large. Rats have this advantage, that they usually +come cheaper than race-horses; but then, as Sir Peregrine felt +sorely, they do not sound so well.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, sir, that you are breaking your mother's heart?" said +Sir Peregrine, looking very sternly at the young man—as sternly as +he was able to look, let him do his worst.</p> + +<p>Peregrine the younger had a very strong idea that he was not doing +anything of the kind. He had left her only a quarter of an hour +since; and though she had wept during the interview, she had forgiven +him with many caresses, and had expressed her opinion that the chief +fault had lain with Carroty Bob and those other wretched people who +had lured her dear child into their villainous den. She had +altogether failed to conceal her pride at his having fought his way +out from among them, and had ended by supplying his pocket out of her +own immediate resources. "I hope not, sir," said Peregrine the +younger, thinking over some of these things.</p> + +<p>"But you will, sir, if you go on with this shameless career. I do not +speak of myself. I do not expect you to sacrifice your tastes for me; +but I did think that you loved your mother!"</p> + +<p>"So I do;—and you too."</p> + +<p>"I am not speaking about myself sir. When I think what your father +was at your age;—how +<span class="nowrap">nobly—"</span> And then the baronet was stopped in +his speech, and wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. "Do you think +that your father, sir, followed such pursuits as these? Do you think +that he spent his time in the pursuit of—rats?"</p> + +<p>"Well; I don't know; I don't think he did. But I have heard you say, +sir, that you sometimes went to cockfights when you were young."</p> + +<p>"To cockfights! well, yes. But let me tell you, sir, that I always +went in the company of gentlemen—that is, when I did go, which was +very seldom." The baronet in some after-dinner half-hour had allowed +this secret of his youth to escape from him, imprudently.</p> + +<p>"And I went to the house in Cowcross Street with Lord John Fitzjoly."</p> + +<p>"The last man in all London with whom you ought to associate! But I +am not going to argue with you, sir. If you think, and will continue +to think, that the slaughtering of vermin is a proper +<span class="nowrap">pursuit—"</span></p> + +<p>"But, sir, foxes are vermin also."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, sir, and listen to me. You know very well what I +mean, sir. If you think that—rats are a proper pursuit for a +gentleman in your sphere of life, and if all that I can say has no +effect in changing your opinion—I shall have done. I have not many +years of life before me, and when I shall be no more, you can +squander the property in any vile pursuits that may be pleasing to +you. But, sir, you shall not do it while I am living; nor, if I can +help it, shall you rob your mother of such peace of mind as is left +for her in this world. I have only one alternative for you, sir—." +Sir Peregrine did not stop to explain what might be the other branch +of this alternative. "Will you give me your word of honour as a +gentleman that you will never again concern yourself in this +disgusting pursuit?"</p> + +<p>"Never, grandfather!" said Peregrine, solemnly.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine before he answered bethought himself that any pledge +given for a whole life-time must be foolish; and he bethought himself +also that if he could wean his heir from rats for a year or so, the +taste would perish from lack of nourishment. "I will say for two +years," said Sir Peregrine, still maintaining his austere look.</p> + +<p>"For two years!" repeated Peregrine the younger; "and this is the +fourth of October."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; for two years," said the baronet, more angry than ever at +the young man's pertinacity, and yet almost amused at his grandson's +already formed resolve to go back to his occupation at the first +opportunity allowed.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you date it from the end of August, sir? The best of the +matches always come off in September."</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I will not date it from any other time than the present. +Will you give me your word of honour as a gentleman, for two years?"</p> + +<p>Peregrine thought over the proposition for a minute or two in sad +anticipation of all that he was to lose, and then slowly gave his +adhesion to the terms. "Very well, sir;—for two years." And then he +took out his pocket-book and wrote in it slowly.</p> + +<p>It was at any rate manifest that he intended to keep his word, and +that was much; so Sir Peregrine accepted the promise for what it was +worth. "And now," said he, "if you have got nothing better to do, we +will ride down to Crutchley Wood."</p> + +<p>"I should like it of all things," said his grandson.</p> + +<p>"Samson wants me to cut a new bridle-path through from the larches at +the top of the hill down to Crutchley Bottom; but I don't think I'll +have it done. Tell Jacob to let us have the nags; I'll ride the gray +pony. And ask your mother if she'll ride with us."</p> + +<p>It was the manner of Sir Peregrine to forgive altogether when he did +forgive; and to commence his forgiveness in all its integrity from +the first moment of the pardon. There was nothing he disliked so much +as being on bad terms with those around him, and with none more so +than with his grandson. Peregrine well knew how to make himself +pleasant to the old man, and when duly encouraged would always do so. +And thus the family party, as they rode on this occasion through the +woods of The Cleeve, discussed oaks and larches, beech and birches, +as though there were no such animal as a rat in existence, and no +such place known as Cowcross Street.</p> + +<p>"Well, Perry, as you and Samson are both of one mind, I suppose the +path must be made," said Sir Peregrine, as he got off his horse at +the entrance of the stable-yard, and prepared to give his feeble aid +to Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this the following note was brought up to The Cleeve by +a messenger from Orley +<span class="nowrap">Farm:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Sir Peregrine</span>,</p> + +<p>If you are quite disengaged at twelve o'clock to-morrow, I +will walk over to The Cleeve at that hour. Or if it would +suit you better to call here as you are riding, I would +remain within till you come. I want your kind advice on a +certain matter.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Most sincerely yours,</p> + +<p class="ind16"><span class="smallcaps">Mary Mason</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">Thursday.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Lady Mason, when she wrote this note, was well aware that it would +not be necessary for her to go to The Cleeve. Sir Peregrine's +courtesy would not permit him to impose any trouble on a lady when +the alternative of taking that trouble on himself was given to him. +Moreover, he liked to have some object for his daily ride; he liked +to be consulted "on certain matters;" and he especially liked being +so consulted by Lady Mason. So he sent word back that he would be at +the farm at twelve on the following day, and exactly at that hour his +gray pony or cob might have been seen slowly walking up the avenue to +the farm-house.</p> + +<p>The Cleeve was not distant from Orley Farm more than two miles by the +nearest walking-path, although it could not be driven much under +five. With any sort of carriage one was obliged to come from The +Cleeve House down to the lodge on the Hamworth and Alston road, and +then to drive through the town of Hamworth, and so back to the farm. +But in walking one would take the path along the river for nearly a +mile, thence rise up the hill to the top of Crutchley Wood, descend +through the wood to Crutchley Bottom, and, passing along the valley, +come out at the foot of Cleeve Hill, just opposite to Orley Farm +Gate. The distance for a horseman was somewhat greater, seeing that +there was not as yet any bridle-way through Crutchley Wood. Under +these circumstances the journey between the two houses was very +frequently made on foot; and for those walking from The Cleeve House +to Hamworth the nearest way was by Lady Mason's gate.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason's drawing-room was very pretty, though it was by no means +fashionably furnished. Indeed, she eschewed fashion in all things, +and made no pretence of coming out before the world as a great lady. +She had never kept any kind of carriage, though her means, combined +with her son's income, would certainly have justified her in a +pony-chaise. Since Lucius had become master of the house he had +presented her with such a vehicle, and also with the pony and harness +complete; but as yet she had never used it, being afraid, as she said +to him with a smile, of appearing ambitious before the stern citizens +of Hamworth. "Nonsense, mother," he had replied, with a considerable +amount of young dignity in his face. "We are all entitled to those +comforts for which we can afford to pay without injury to any one. I +shall take it ill of you if I do not see you using it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir Peregrine, this is so kind of you," said Lady Mason, coming +forward to meet her friend. She was plainly dressed, without any full +exuberance of costume, and yet everything about her was neat and +pretty, and everything had been the object of feminine care. A very +plain dress may occasion as much study as the most elaborate,—and +may be quite as worthy of the study it has caused. Lady Mason, I am +inclined to think, was by no means indifferent to the subject, but +then to her belonged the great art of hiding her artifice.</p> + +<p>"Not at all; not at all," said Sir Peregrine, taking her hand and +pressing it, as he always did. "What is the use of neighbours if they +are not neighbourly?" This was all very well from Sir Peregrine in +the existing case; but he was not a man who by any means recognised +the necessity of being civil to all who lived near him. To the great +and to the poor he was neighbourly; but it may be doubted whether he +would have thought much of Lady Mason if she had been less good +looking or less clever.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I know how good you always are to me. But I'll tell you why I am +troubling you now. Lucius went off two days since to Liverpool."</p> + +<p>"My grandson told me that he had left home."</p> + +<p>"He is an excellent young man, and I am sure that I have every reason +to be thankful." Sir Peregrine, remembering the affair in Cowcross +Street, and certain other affairs of a somewhat similar nature, +thought that she had; but for all that he would not have exchanged +his own bright-eyed lad for Lucius Mason with all his virtues and all +his learning.</p> + +<p>"And indeed I am thankful," continued the widow. "Nothing can be +better than his conduct and mode of life; +<span class="nowrap">but—"</span></p> + +<p>"I hope he has no attraction at Liverpool, of which you disapprove."</p> + +<p>"No, no; there is nothing of that kind. His attraction is—; but +perhaps I had better explain the whole matter. Lucius, you know, has +taken to farming."</p> + +<p>"He has taken up the land which you held yourself, has he not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a little more; and he is anxious to add even to that. He is +very energetic about it, Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"Well; the life of a gentleman farmer is not a bad one; though in his +special circumstances I would certainly have recommended a +profession."</p> + +<p>"Acting upon your advice I did urge him to go to the bar. But he has +a will of his own, and a mind altogether made up as to the line of +life which he thinks will suit him best. What I fear now is, that he +will spend more money upon experiments than he can afford."</p> + +<p>"Experimental farming is an expensive amusement," said Sir Peregrine, +with a very serious shake of his head.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid it is; and now he has gone to Liverpool to buy—guano," +said the widow, feeling some little shame in coming to so +inconsiderable a conclusion after her somewhat stately prologue.</p> + +<p>"To buy guano! Why could he not get his guano from Walker, as my man +Symonds does?"</p> + +<p>"He says it is not good. He analyzed it, and—"</p> + +<p>"Fiddlestick! Why didn't he order it in London, if he didn't like +Walker's. Gone to Liverpool for guano! I'll tell you what it is, Lady +Mason; if he intends to farm his land in that way, he should have a +very considerable capital at his back. It will be a long time before +he sees his money again." Sir Peregrine had been farming all his +life, and had his own ideas on the subject. He knew very well that no +gentleman, let him set to work as he might with his own land, could +do as well with it as a farmer who must make a living out of his +farming besides paying the rent;—who must do that or else have no +living; and he knew also that such operations as those which his +young friend was now about to attempt was an amusement fitted only +for the rich. It may be also that he was a little old-fashioned, and +therefore prejudiced against new combinations between agriculture and +chemistry. "He must put a stop to that kind of work very soon, Lady +Mason; he must indeed; or he will bring himself to ruin—and you with +him."</p> + +<p>Lady Mason's face became very grave and serious. "But what can I say +to him, Sir Peregrine? In such a matter as that I am afraid that he +would not mind me. If you would not object to speaking to him?"</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine was graciously pleased to say that he would not object. +It was a disagreeable task, he said, that of giving advice to a young +man who was bound by no tie either to take it or even to receive it +with respect.</p> + +<p>"You will not find him at all disrespectful; I think I can promise +that," said the frightened mother; and that matter was ended by a +promise on the part of the baronet to take the case in hand, and to +see Lucius immediately on his return from Liverpool. "He had better +come and dine at The Cleeve," said Sir Peregrine, "and we will have +it out after dinner." All of which made Lady Mason very grateful.</p> + + +<p><a name="c5" id="c5"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> +<h3>SIR PEREGRINE MAKES A SECOND PROMISE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>We left Lady Mason very grateful at the end of the last chapter for +the promise made to her by Sir Peregrine with reference to her son; +but there was still a weight on Lady Mason's mind. They say that the +pith of a lady's letter is in the postscript, and it may be that that +which remained for Lady Mason to say, was after all the matter as to +which she was most anxious for assistance. "As you are here," she +said to the baronet, "would you let me mention another subject?"</p> + +<p>"Surely," said he, again putting down his hat and riding-stick.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine was not given to close observation of those around him, +or he might have seen by the heightened colour of the lady's face, +and by the slight nervous hesitation with which she began to speak, +that she was much in earnest as to this other matter. And had he been +clever in his powers of observation he might have seen also that she +was anxious to hide this feeling. "You remember the circumstances of +that terrible lawsuit?" she said, at last.</p> + +<p>"What; as to Sir Joseph's will? Yes; I remember them well."</p> + +<p>"I know that I shall never forget all the kindness that you showed +me," said she. "I don't know how I should have lived through it +without you and dear Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"But what about it now?"</p> + +<p>"I fear I am going to have further trouble."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that the man at Groby Park is going to try the case +again? It is not possible after such a lapse of time. I am no lawyer, +but I do not think that he can do it."</p> + +<p>"I do not know—I do not know what he intends, or whether he intends +anything; but I am sure of this,—that he will give me trouble if he +can. But I will tell you the whole story, Sir Peregrine. It is not +much, and perhaps after all may not be worth attention. You know the +attorney in Hamworth who married Miriam Usbech?"</p> + +<p>"What, Samuel Dockwrath? Oh, yes; I know him well enough; and to tell +the truth I do not think very well of him. Is he not a tenant of +yours?"</p> + +<p>"Not at present." And then Lady Mason explained the manner in which +the two fields had been taken out of the lawyer's hands by her son's +order.</p> + +<p>"Ah! he was wrong there," said the baronet. "When a man has held land +so long it should not be taken away from him except under pressing +circumstances; that is if he pays his rent."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath did pay his rent, certainly; and now, I fear, he is +determined to do all he can to injure us."</p> + +<p>"But what injury can Mr. Dockwrath do you?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, but he has gone down to Yorkshire,—to Mr. Mason's +place; I know that; and he was searching through some papers of old +Mr. Usbech's before he went. Indeed, I may say that I know as a fact +that he has gone to Mr. Mason with the hope that these law +proceedings may be brought on again."</p> + +<p>"You know it as a fact?"</p> + +<p>"I think I may say so."</p> + +<p>"But, dear Lady Mason, may I ask you how you know this as a fact?"</p> + +<p>"His wife was with me yesterday," she said, with some feeling of +shame as she disclosed the source from whence she had obtained her +information.</p> + +<p>"And did she tell the tale against her own husband?"</p> + +<p>"Not as meaning to say anything against him, Sir Peregrine; you must +not think so badly of her as that; nor must you think that I would +willingly obtain information in such a manner. But you must +understand that I have always been her friend; and when she found +that Mr. Dockwrath had left home on a matter in which I am so nearly +concerned, I cannot but think it natural that she should let me +know."</p> + +<p>To this Sir Peregrine made no direct answer. He could not quite say +that he thought it was natural, nor could he give any expressed +approval of any such intercourse between Lady Mason and the +attorney's wife. He thought it would be better that Mr. Dockwrath +should be allowed to do his worst, if he had any intention of doing +evil, and that Lady Mason should pass it by without condescending to +notice the circumstance. But he made allowances for her weakness, and +did not give utterance to his disapproval in words.</p> + +<p>"I know you think that I have done wrong," she then said, appealing +to him; and there was a tone of sorrow in her voice which went to his +heart.</p> + +<p>"No, not wrong; I cannot say that you have done wrong. It may be a +question whether you have done wisely."</p> + +<p>"Ah! if you only condemn my folly, I will not despair. It is probable +I may not have done wisely, seeing that I had not you to direct me. +But what shall I do now? Oh, Sir Peregrine, say that you will not +desert me if all this trouble is coming on me again!"</p> + +<p>"No, I will not desert you, Lady Mason; you may be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Dearest friend!"</p> + +<p>"But I would advise you to take no notice whatever of Mr. Dockwrath +and his proceedings. I regard him as a person entirely beneath your +notice, and if I were you I should not move at all in this matter +unless I received some legal summons which made it necessary for me +to do so. I have not the honour of any personal acquaintance with Mr. +Mason of Groby Park." It was in this way that Sir Peregrine always +designated his friend's stepson—"but if I understand the motives by +which he may probably be actuated in this or in any other matter, I +do not think it likely that he will expend money on so very +unpromising a case."</p> + +<p>"He would do anything for vengeance."</p> + +<p>"I doubt if he would throw away his money even for that, unless he +were very sure of his prey. And in this matter, what can he possibly +do? He has the decision of the jury against him, and at the time he +was afraid to carry the case up to a court of appeal."</p> + +<p>"But, Sir Peregrine, it is impossible to know what documents he may +have obtained since that."</p> + +<p>"What documents can do you any harm;—unless, indeed, there should +turn out to be a will subsequent to that under which your son +inherits the property?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; there was no subsequent will."</p> + +<p>"Of course there was not; and therefore you need not frighten +yourself. It is just possible that some attempt may be made now that +your son is of age, but I regard even that as improbable."</p> + +<p>"And you would not advise me then to say anything to Mr. Furnival?"</p> + +<p>"No; certainly not—unless you receive some legal notice which may +make it necessary for you to consult a lawyer. Do nothing; and if +Mrs. Dockwrath comes to you again, tell her that you are not disposed +to take any notice of her information. Mrs. Dockwrath is, I am sure, +a very good sort of woman. Indeed I have always heard so. But, if I +were you, I don't think that I should feel inclined to have much +conversation with her about my private affairs. What you tell her you +tell also to her husband." And then the baronet, having thus spoken +words of wisdom, sat silent in his arm-chair; and Lady Mason, still +looking into his face, remained silent also for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad I asked you to come," she then said.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted, if I have been of any service to you."</p> + +<p>"Of any service! oh, Sir Peregrine, you cannot understand what it is +to live alone as I do,—for of course I cannot trouble Lucius with +these matters; nor can a man, gifted as you are, comprehend how a +woman can tremble at the very idea that those law proceedings may +possibly be repeated."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine could not but remember as he looked at her that during +all those law proceedings, when an attack was made, not only on her +income but on her honesty, she had never seemed to tremble. She had +always been constant to herself, even when things appeared to be +going against her. But years passing over her head since that time +had perhaps told upon her courage.</p> + +<p>"But I will fear nothing now, as you have promised that you will +still be my friend."</p> + +<p>"You may be very sure of that, Lady Mason. I believe that I may +fairly boast that I do not easily abandon those whom I have once +regarded with esteem and affection; among whom Lady Mason will, I am +sure, allow me to say that she is reckoned as by no means the least." +And then taking her hand, the old gentleman bowed over it and kissed +it.</p> + +<p>"My dearest, dearest friend!" said she; and lifting Sir Peregrine's +beautifully white hand to her lips she also kissed that. It will be +remembered that the gentleman was over seventy, and that this pretty +scene could therefore be enacted without impropriety on either side. +Sir Peregrine then went, and as he passed out of the door Lady Mason +smiled on him very sweetly. It is quite true that he was over +seventy; but nevertheless the smile of a pretty woman still had +charms for him, more especially if there was a tear in her eye the +while;—for Sir Peregrine Orme had a soft heart.</p> + +<p>As soon as the door was closed behind him Lady Mason seated herself +in her accustomed chair, and all trace of the smile vanished from her +face. She was alone now, and could allow her countenance to be a true +index of her mind. If such was the case her heart surely was very +sad. She sat there perfectly still for nearly an hour, and during the +whole of that time there was the same look of agony on her brow. Once +or twice she rubbed her hands across her forehead, brushing back her +hair, and showing, had there been any one by to see it, that there +was many a gray lock there mixed with the brown hairs. Had there been +any one by, she would, it may be surmised, have been more careful.</p> + +<p>There was no smile in her face now, neither was there any tear in her +eye. The one and the other emblem were equally alien to her present +mood. But there was sorrow at her heart, and deep thought in her +mind. She knew that her enemies were conspiring against her,—against +her and against her son; and what steps might she best take in order +that she might baffle them?</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill05" id="ill05"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill05.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill05-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="There was sorrow in her heart, + and deep thought in her mind." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">There was sorrow in her heart, and deep thought in her mind.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill05.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"I have got that woman on the hip now." Those were the words which +Mr. Dockwrath had uttered into his wife's ears, after two days spent +in searching through her father's papers. The poor woman had once +thought of burning all those papers—in old days before she had +become Mrs. Dockwrath. Her friend, Lady Mason, had counselled her to +do so, pointing out to her that they were troublesome, and could by +no possibility lead to profit; but she had consulted her lover, and +he had counselled her to burn nothing. "Would that she had been +guided by her friend!" she now said to herself with regard to that +old trunk, and perhaps occasionally with regard to some other things.</p> + +<p>"I have got that woman on the hip at last!" and there had been a +gleam of satisfaction in Samuel's eye as he uttered the words which +had convinced his wife that it was not an idle threat. She knew +nothing of what the box had contained; and now, even if it had not +been kept safe from her under Samuel's private key, the contents +which were of interest had of course gone. "I have business in the +north, and shall be away for about a week," Mr. Dockwrath had said to +her on the following morning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well; then I'll put up your things," she had answered in +her usual mild, sad, whining, household voice. Her voice at home was +always sad and whining, for she was overworked, and had too many +cares, and her lord was a tyrant to her rather than a husband.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I must see Mr. Mason immediately. And look here, Miriam, I +positively insist that you do not go to Orley Farm, or hold any +intercourse whatever with Lady Mason. D'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dockwrath said that she did hear, and promised obedience. Mr. +Dockwrath probably guessed that the moment his back was turned all +would be told at the farm, and probably also had no real objection to +her doing so. Had he in truth wished to keep his proceedings secret +from Lady Mason he would not have divulged them to his wife. And then +Mr. Dockwrath did start for the north, bearing certain documents with +him; and soon after his departure Mrs. Dockwrath did pay a visit to +Orley Farm.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason sat there perfectly still for about an hour thinking what +she would do. She had asked Sir Peregrine, and had the advantage of +his advice; but that did not weigh much with her. What she wanted +from Sir Peregrine was countenance and absolute assistance in the day +of trouble,—not advice. She had desired to renew his interest in her +favour, and to receive from him his assurance that he would not +desert her; and that she had obtained. It was of course also +necessary that she should consult him; but in turning over within her +own mind this and that line of conduct, she did not, consciously, +attach any weight to Sir Peregrine's opinion. The great question for +her to decide was this;—should she put herself and her case into the +hands of her friend Mr. Furnival now at once, or should she wait till +she had received some certain symptom of hostile proceedings? If she +did see Mr. Furnival, what could she tell him? Only this, that Mr. +Dockwrath had found some document among the papers of old Mr. Usbech, +and had gone off with the same to Groby Park in Yorkshire. What that +document might be she was as ignorant as the attorney's wife.</p> + +<p>When the hour was ended she had made up her mind that she would do +nothing more in the matter, at any rate on that day.</p> + + +<p><a name="c6" id="c6"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> +<h3>THE COMMERCIAL ROOM, BULL INN, LEEDS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mr. Samuel Dockwrath was a little man, with sandy hair, a pale face, +and stone-blue eyes. In judging of him by appearance only and not by +the ear, one would be inclined to doubt that he could be a very sharp +attorney abroad and a very persistent tyrant at home. But when Mr. +Dockwrath began to talk, one's respect for him began to grow. He +talked well and to the point, and with a tone of voice that could +command where command was possible, persuade where persuasion was +required, mystify when mystification was needed, and express with +accuracy the tone of an obedient humble servant when servility was +thought to be expedient. We will now accompany him on his little tour +into Yorkshire.</p> + +<p>Groby Park is about seven miles from Leeds, and as Mr. Dockwrath had +in the first instance to travel from Hamworth up to London, he did +not reach Leeds till late in the evening. It was a nasty, cold, +drizzling night, so that the beauties and marvels of the large +manufacturing town offered him no attraction, and at nine o'clock he +had seated himself before the fire in the commercial room at The +Bull, had called for a pair of public slippers, and was about to +solace all his cares with a glass of mahogany-coloured brandy and +water and a cigar. The room had no present occupant but himself, and +therefore he was able to make the most of all its comforts. He had +taken the solitary arm-chair, and had so placed himself that the gas +would fall direct from behind his head on to that day's Leeds and +Halifax Chronicle, as soon as he should choose to devote himself to +local politics.</p> + +<p>The waiter had looked at him with doubtful eyes when he asked to be +shown into the commercial room, feeling all but confident that such a +guest had no right to be there. He had no bulky bundles of samples, +nor any of those outward characteristics of a commercial "gent" with +which all men conversant with the rail and road are acquainted, and +which the accustomed eye of a waiter recognises at a glance. And here +it may be well to explain that ordinary travellers are in this +respect badly treated by the customs of England, or rather by the +hotel-keepers. All inn-keepers have commercial rooms, as certainly as +they have taps and bars, but all of them do not have commercial rooms +in the properly exclusive sense. A stranger, therefore, who has asked +for and obtained his mutton-chop in the commercial room of The +Dolphin, The Bear, and The George, not unnaturally asks to be shown +into the same chamber at the King's Head. But the King's Head does a +business with real commercials, and the stranger finds himself—out +of his element.</p> + +<p>"'Mercial, sir?" said the waiter at The Bull Inn, Leeds, to Mr. +Dockwrath, in that tone of doubt which seemed to carry an answer to +his own question. But Mr. Dockwrath was not a man to be put down by a +waiter. "Yes," said he. "Didn't you hear me say so?" And then the +waiter gave way. None of those lords of the road were in the house at +the moment, and it might be that none would come that night.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath had arrived by the 8.22 +<span class="smallcaps">p.m.</span> down, but the 8.45 +<span class="smallcaps">p.m.</span> up +from the north followed quick upon his heels, and he had hardly put +his brandy and water to his mouth before a rush and a sound of many +voices were heard in the hall. There is a great difference between +the entrance into an inn of men who are not known there and of men +who are known. The men who are not known are shy, diffident, +doubtful, and anxious to propitiate the chambermaid by great +courtesy. The men who are known are loud, jocular, and assured;—or +else, in case of deficient accommodation, loud, angry, and full of +threats. The guests who had now arrived were well known, and seemed +at present to be in the former mood. "Well, Mary, my dear, what's the +time of day with you?" said a rough, bass voice, within the hearing +of Mr. Dockwrath. "Much about the old tune, Mr. Moulder," said the +girl at the bar. "Time to look alive and keep moving. Will you have +them boxes up stairs, Mr. Kantwise?" and then there were a few words +about the luggage, and two real commercial gentlemen walked into the +room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath resolved to stand upon his rights, so he did not move +his chair, but looked up over his shoulder at the new comers. The +first man who entered was short and very fat;—so fat that he could +not have seen his own knees for some considerable time past. His face +rolled with fat, as also did all his limbs. His eyes were large, and +bloodshot. He wore no beard, and therefore showed plainly the triple +bagging of his fat chin. In spite of his overwhelming fatness, there +was something in his face that was masterful and almost vicious. His +body had been overcome by eating, but not as yet his spirit—one +would be inclined to say. This was Mr. Moulder, well known on the +road as being in the grocery and spirit line; a pushing man, who +understood his business, and was well trusted by his firm in spite of +his habitual intemperance. What did the firm care whether or no he +killed himself by eating and drinking? He sold his goods, collected +his money, and made his remittances. If he got drunk at night that +was nothing to them, seeing that he always did his quota of work the +next day. But Mr. Moulder did not get drunk. His brandy and water +went into his blood, and into his eyes, and into his feet, and into +his hands,—but not into his brain.</p> + +<p>The other was a little square man in the hardware line, of the name +of Kantwise. He disposed of fire-irons, grates, ovens, and kettles, +and was at the present moment heavily engaged in the sale of certain +newly-invented metallic tables and chairs lately brought out by the +Patent Steel Furniture Company, for which Mr. Kantwise did business. +He looked as though a skin rather too small for the purpose had been +drawn over his head and face so that his forehead and cheeks and chin +were tight and shiny. His eyes were small and green, always moving +about in his head, and were seldom used by Mr. Kantwise in the +ordinary way. At whatever he looked he looked sideways; it was not +that he did not look you in the face, but he always looked at you +with a sidelong glance, never choosing to have you straight in front +of him. And the more eager he was in conversation—the more anxious +he might be to gain his point, the more he averted his face and +looked askance; so that sometimes he would prefer to have his +antagonist almost behind his shoulder. And then as he did this, he +would thrust forward his chin, and having looked at you round the +corner till his eyes were nearly out of his head, he would close them +both and suck in his lips, and shake his head with rapid little +shakes, as though he were saying to himself, "Ah, sir! you're a bad +un, a very bad un." His nose—for I should do Mr. Kantwise injustice +if I did not mention this feature—seemed to have been compressed +almost into nothing by that skin-squeezing operation. It was long +enough, taking the measurement down the bridge, and projected +sufficiently, counting the distance from the upper lip; but it had +all the properties of a line; it possessed length without breadth. +There was nothing in it from side to side. If you essayed to pull it, +your fingers would meet. When I shall have also said that the hair on +Mr. Kantwise's head stood up erect all round to the height of two +inches, and that it was very red, I shall have been accurate enough +in his personal description.</p> + +<p>That Mr. Moulder represented a firm good business, doing tea, coffee, +and British brandy on a well-established basis of capital and profit, +the travelling commercial world in the north of England was well +aware. No one entertained any doubt about his employers, Hubbles and +Grease of Houndsditch. Hubbles and Grease were all right, as they had +been any time for the last twenty years. But I cannot say that there +was quite so strong a confidence felt in the Patent Steel Furniture +Company generally, or in the individual operations of Mr. Kantwise in +particular. The world in Yorkshire and Lancashire was doubtful about +metallic tables, and it was thought that Mr. Kantwise was too +eloquent in their praise.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moulder when he had entered the room, stood still, to enable the +waiter to peel off from him his greatcoat and the large shawl with +which his neck was enveloped, and Mr. Kantwise performed the same +operation for himself, carefully folding up the articles of clothing +as he took them off. Then Mr. Moulder fixed his eyes on Mr. +Dockwrath, and stared at him very hard. "Who's the party, James?" he +said to the waiter, speaking in a whisper that was plainly heard by +the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Gen'elman by the 8.22 down," said James.</p> + +<p>"Commercial?" asked Mr. Moulder, with angry frown.</p> + +<p>"He says so himself, anyways," said the waiter.</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" replied Mr. Moulder, who knew all the bearings of a +commercial man thoroughly, and could have put one together if he were +only supplied with a little bit—say the mouth, as Professor Owen +always does with the Dodoes. Mr. Moulder now began to be angry, for +he was a stickler for the rights and privileges of his class, and had +an idea that the world was not so conservative in that respect as it +should be. Mr. Dockwrath, however, was not to be frightened, so he +drew his chair a thought nearer to the fire, took a sup of brandy and +water, and prepared himself for war if war should be necessary.</p> + +<p>"Cold evening, sir, for the time of year," said Mr. Moulder, walking +up to the fireplace, and rolling the lumps of his forehead about in +his attempt at a frown. In spite of his terrible burden of flesh, Mr. +Moulder could look angry on occasions, but he could only do so when +he was angry. He was not gifted with a command of his facial muscles.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. Dockwrath, not taking his eyes from off the Leeds +and Halifax Chronicle. "It is coldish. Waiter, bring me a cigar."</p> + +<p>This was very provoking, as must be confessed. Mr. Moulder had not +been prepared to take any step towards turning the gentleman out, +though doubtless he might have done so had he chosen to exercise his +prerogative. But he did expect that the gentleman would have +acknowledged the weakness of his footing, by moving himself a little +towards one side of the fire, and he did not expect that he would +have presumed to smoke without asking whether the practice was held +to be objectionable by the legal possessors of the room. Mr. +Dockwrath was free of any such pusillanimity. "Waiter," he said +again, "bring me a cigar, d'ye hear?"</p> + +<p>The great heart of Moulder could not stand this unmoved. He had been +an accustomed visitor to that room for fifteen years, and had always +done his best to preserve the commercial code unsullied. He was now +so well known, that no one else ever presumed to take the chair at +the four o'clock commercial dinner if he were present. It was +incumbent on him to stand forward and make a fight, more especially +in the presence of Kantwise, who was by no means stanch to his order. +Kantwise would at all times have been glad to have outsiders in the +room, in order that he might puff his tables, and if possible effect +a sale;—a mode of proceeding held in much aversion by the upright, +old-fashioned, commercial mind.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Mr. Moulder, having become very red about the cheeks and +chin, "I and this gentleman are going to have a bit of supper, and it +ain't accustomed to smoke in commercial rooms during meals. You know +the rules no doubt if you're commercial yourself;—as I suppose you +are, seeing you in this room."</p> + +<p>Now Mr. Moulder was wrong in his law, as he himself was very well +aware. Smoking is allowed in all commercial rooms when the dinner has +been some hour or so off the table. But then it was necessary that he +should hit the stranger in some way, and the chances were that the +stranger would know nothing about commercial law. Nor did he; so he +merely looked Mr. Moulder hard in the face. But Mr. Kantwise knew the +laws well enough, and as he saw before him a possible purchaser of +metallic tables, he came to the assistance of the attorney.</p> + +<p>"I think you are a little wrong there, Mr. Moulder; eh; ain't you?" +said he.</p> + +<p>"Wrong about what?" said Moulder, turning very sharply upon his +base-minded compatriot.</p> + +<p>"Well, as to smoking. It's nine o'clock, and if the +<span class="nowrap">gentleman—"</span></p> + +<p>"I don't care a brass farthing about the clock," said the other, "but +when I'm going to have a bit of steak with my tea, in my own room, I +chooses to have it comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Goodness me, Mr. Moulder, how many times have I seen you sitting +there with a pipe in your mouth, and half a dozen gents eating their +teas the while in this very room? The rule of the case I take it to +be this; <span class="nowrap">when—"</span></p> + +<p>"Bother your rules."</p> + +<p>"Well; it was you spoke of them."</p> + +<p>"The question I take to be this," said Moulder, now emboldened by the +opposition he had received. "Has the gentleman any right to be in +this room at all, or has he not? Is he commercial, or is +he—miscellaneous? That's the chat, as I take it."</p> + +<p>"You're on the square there, I must allow," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"James," said Moulder, appealing with authority to the waiter, who +had remained in the room during the controversy;—and now Mr. Moulder +was determined to do his duty and vindicate his profession, let the +consequences be what they might. "James, is that gentleman +commercial, or is he not?"</p> + +<p>It was clearly necessary now that Mr. Dockwrath himself should take +his own part, and fight his own battle. "Sir," said he, turning to +Mr. Moulder, "I think you'll find it extremely difficult to define +that word;—extremely difficult. In this enterprising country all men +are more or less commercial."</p> + +<p>"Hear! hear!" said Mr. Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"That's gammon," said Mr. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Gammon it may be," said Mr. Dockwrath, "but nevertheless it's right +in law. Taking the word in its broadest, strictest, and most +intelligible sense, I am a commercial gentleman; and as such I do +maintain that I have a full right to the accommodation of this public +room."</p> + +<p>"That's very well put," said Mr. Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Waiter," thundered out Mr. Moulder, as though he imagined that that +functionary was down the yard at the taproom instead of standing +within three feet of his elbow. "Is this gent a commercial, or is he +not? Because if not,—then I'll trouble you to send Mr. Crump here. +My compliments to Mr. Crump, and I wish to see him." Now Mr. Crump +was the landlord of the Bull Inn.</p> + +<p>"Master's just stepped out, down the street," said James.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you answer my question, sir?" said Moulder, becoming +redder and still more red about his shirt-collars.</p> + +<p>"The gent said as how he was 'mercial," said the poor man. "Was I to +go to contradict a gent and tell him he wasn't when he said as how he +was?"</p> + +<p>"If you please," said Mr. Dockwrath, "we will not bring the waiter +into this discussion. I asked for the commercial room, and he did his +duty in showing me to the door of it. The fact I take to be this; in +the south of England the rules to which you refer are not kept so +strictly as in these more mercantile localities."</p> + +<p>"I've always observed that," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"I travelled for three years in Devonshire, Somersetshire, and +Wiltshire," said Moulder, "and the commercial rooms were as well kept +there as any I ever see."</p> + +<p>"I alluded to Surrey and Kent," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"They're uncommonly miscellaneous in Surrey and Kent," said Kantwise. +"There's no doubt in the world about that."</p> + +<p>"If the gentleman means to say that he's come in here because he +didn't know the custom of the country, I've no more to say, of +course," said Moulder. "And in that case, I, for one, shall be very +happy if the gentleman cam make himself comfortable in this room as a +stranger, and I may say guest;—paying his own shot, of course."</p> + +<p>"And as for me, I shall be delighted," said Kantwise. "I never did +like too much exclusiveness. What's the use of bottling oneself up? +that's what I always say. Besides, there's no charity in it. We gents +as are always on the road should show a little charity to them as +ain't so well accustomed to the work."</p> + +<p>At this allusion to charity Mr. Moulder snuffled through his nose to +show his great disgust, but he made no further answer. Mr. Dockwrath, +who was determined not to yield, but who had nothing to gain by +further fighting, bowed his head, and declared that he felt very much +obliged. Whether or no there was any touch of irony in his tone, Mr. +Moulder's ears were not fine enough to discover. So they now sat +round the fire together, the attorney still keeping his seat in the +middle. And then Mr. Moulder ordered his little bit of steak with his +tea. "With the gravy in it, James," he said, solemnly. "And a bit of +fat, and a few slices of onion, thin mind, put on raw, not with all +the taste fried out; and tell the cook if she don't do it as it +should be done, I'll be down into the kitchen and do it myself. +You'll join me, Kantwise, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think not; I dined at three, you know."</p> + +<p>"Dined at three! What of that? a dinner at three won't last a man for +ever. You might as well join me."</p> + +<p>"No, I think not. Have you got such a thing as a nice red herring in +the house, James?"</p> + +<p>"Get one round the corner, sir."</p> + +<p>"Do, there's a good fellow; and I'll take it for a relish with my +tea. I'm not so fond of your solids three times a day. They heat the +blood too much."</p> + +<p>"Bother," grunted Moulder; and then they went to their evening meal, +over which we will not disturb them. The steak, we may presume, was +cooked aright, as Mr. Moulder did not visit the kitchen, and Mr. +Kantwise no doubt made good play with his unsubstantial dainty, as he +spoke no further till his meal was altogether finished.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear anything of that Mr. Mason who lives near +Bradford?" asked Mr. Kantwise, addressing himself to Mr. Moulder, as +soon as the things had been cleared from the table, and that latter +gentleman had been furnished with a pipe and a supply of cold +without.</p> + +<p>"I remember his father when I was a boy," said Moulder, not troubling +himself to take his pipe from his mouth, "Mason and Martock in the +Old Jewry; very good people they were too."</p> + +<p>"He's decently well off now, I suppose, isn't he?" said Kantwise, +turning away his face, and looking at his companion out of the +corners of his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I suppose he is. That place there by the road-side is all his own, I +take it. Have you been at him with some of your rusty, rickety tables +and chairs?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder, you forget that there is a gentleman here who won't +understand that you're at your jokes. I was doing business at Groby +Park, but I found the party uncommon hard to deal with."</p> + +<p>"Didn't complete the transaction?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no; not exactly; but I intend to call again. He's close enough +himself, is Mr. Mason. But his lady, Mrs. M.! Lord love you, Mr. +Moulder, that is a woman!"</p> + +<p>"She is; is she? As for me, I never have none of these private +dealings. It don't suit my book at all; nor it ain't what I've been +accustomed to. If a man's wholesale, let him be wholesale." And then, +having enunciated this excellent opinion with much energy, he took a +long pull at his brandy and water.</p> + +<p>"Very old fashioned, Mr. Moulder," said Kantwise, looking round the +corner, then shutting his eyes and shaking his head.</p> + +<p>"May be," said Moulder, "and yet none the worse for that. I call it +hawking and peddling, that going round the country with your goods on +your back. It ain't trade." And then there was a lull in the +conversation, Mr. Kantwise, who was a very religious gentleman, +having closed his eyes, and being occupied with some internal +anathema against Mr. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, sir, I think you were talking about one Mr. +Mason who lives in these parts," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Joseph Mason, Esq., of Groby Park," said Mr. Kantwise, now +turning his face upon the attorney.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I shall be likely to find him at home to-morrow, if I +call?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir; certainly; leastwise I should say so. Any personal +acquaintance with Mr. Mason, sir? If so, I meant nothing offensive by +my allusion to the lady, sir; nothing at all, I can assure you."</p> + +<p>"The lady's nothing to me, sir; nor the gentleman either;—only that +I have a little business with him."</p> + +<p>"Shall be very happy to join you in a gig, sir, to-morrow, as far as +Groby Park; or fly, if more convenient. I shall only take a few +patterns with me, and they're no weight at all,—none in the least, +sir. They go on behind, and you wouldn't know it, sir." To this, +however, Mr. Dockwrath would not assent. As he wanted to see Mr. +Mason very specially, he should go early, and preferred going by +himself.</p> + +<p>"No offence, I hope," said Mr. Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"None in the least," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"And if you would allow me, sir, to have the pleasure of showing you +a few of my patterns, I'm sure I should be delighted." This he said +observing that Mr. Moulder was sitting over his empty glass with the +pipe in his hand, and his eyes fast closed. "I think, sir, I could +show you an article that would please you very much. You see, sir, +that new ideas are coming in every day, and wood, sir, is altogether +going out,—altogether going out as regards furniture. In another +twenty years, sir, there won't be such a thing as a wooden table in +the country, unless with some poor person that can't afford to +refurnish. Believe me, sir, iron's the thing now-a-days."</p> + +<p>"And indian-rubber," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Yes; indian-rubber's wonderful too. Are you in that line, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well; no; not exactly."</p> + +<p>"It's not like iron, sir. You can't make a dinner-table for fourteen +people out of indian-rubber, that will shut up into a box 3-6 by 2-4 +deep, and 2-6 broad. Why, sir, I can let you have a set of +drawing-room furniture for fifteen ten that you've never seen +equalled in wood for three times the money;—ornamented in the +tastiest way, sir, and fit for any lady's drawing-room or boodoor. +The ladies of quality are all getting them now for their boodoors. +There's three tables, eight chairs, easy rocking-chair, music-stand, +stool to match, and pair of stand-up screens, all gilt in real Louey +catorse; and it goes in three boxes 4-2 by 2-1 and 2-3. Think of +that, sir. For fifteen ten and the boxes in." Then there was a pause, +after which Mr. Kantwise added—"If ready money, the carriage paid." +And then he turned his head very much away, and looked back very hard +at his expected customer.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the articles are not in my line," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"It's the tastiest present for a gentleman to make to his lady that +has come out since—since those sort of things have come out at all. +You'll let me show you the articles, sir. It will give me the +sincerest pleasure." And Mr. Kantwise proposed to leave the room in +order that he might introduce the three boxes in question.</p> + +<p>"They would not be at all in my way," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"The trouble would be nothing," said Mr. Kantwise, "and it gives me +the greatest pleasure to make them known when I find any one who can +appreciate such undoubted luxuries;" and so saying Mr. Kantwise +skipped out of the room, and soon returned with James and Boots, each +of the three bearing on his shoulder a deal box nearly as big as a +coffin, all of which were deposited in different parts of the room. +Mr. Moulder in the meantime snored heavily, his head falling on to +his breast every now and again. But nevertheless he held fast by his +pipe.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kantwise skipped about the room with wonderful agility, +unfastening the boxes, and taking out the contents, while Joe the +boots and James the waiter stood by assisting. They had never yet +seen the glories of these chairs and tables, and were therefore not +unwilling to be present. It was singular to see how ready Mr. +Kantwise was at the work, how recklessly he threw aside the +whitey-brown paper in which the various pieces of painted iron were +enveloped, and with what a practised hand he put together one article +after another. First there was a round loo-table, not quite so large +in its circumference as some people might think desirable, but, +nevertheless, a round loo-table. The pedestal with its three claws +was all together. With a knowing touch Mr. Kantwise separated the +bottom of what looked like a yellow stick, and, lo! there were three +legs, which he placed carefully on the ground. Then a small bar was +screwed on to the top, and over the bar was screwed the leaf, or +table itself, which consisted of three pieces unfolding with hinges. +These, when the screw had been duly fastened in the centre, opened +out upon the bar, and there was the table complete.</p> + +<p>It was certainly a "tasty" article, and the pride with which Mr. +Kantwise glanced back at it was quite delightful. The top of the +table was blue, with a red bird of paradise in the middle; and the +edges of the table, to the breadth of a couple of inches, were +yellow. The pillar also was yellow, as were the three legs. "It's the +real Louey catorse," said Mr. Kantwise, stooping down to go on with +table number two, which was, as he described it, a "chess," having +the proper number of blue and light-pink squares marked upon it; but +this also had been made Louey catorse with reference to its legs and +edges. The third table was a "sofa," of proper shape, but rather +small in size. Then, one after another, he brought forth and screwed +up the chairs, stools, and sundry screens, and within a quarter of an +hour he had put up the whole set complete. The red bird of paradise +and the blue ground appeared on all, as did also the yellow legs and +edgings which gave to them their peculiarly fashionable character. +"There," said Mr. Kantwise, looking at them with fond admiration, "I +don't mind giving a personal guarantee that there's nothing equal to +that for the money either in England or in France."</p> + +<p>"They are very nice," said Mr. Dockwrath. When a man has had produced +before him for his own and sole delectation any article or articles, +how can he avoid eulogium? Mr. Dockwrath found himself obliged to +pause, and almost feared that he should find himself obliged to buy.</p> + +<p>"Nice! I should rather think they are," said Mr. Kantwise, becoming +triumphant,—"and for fifteen ten, delivered, boxes included. There's +nothing like iron, sir, nothing; you may take my word for that. +They're so strong, you know. Look here, sir." And then Mr. Kantwise, +taking two of the pieces of whitey-brown paper which had been laid +aside, carefully spread one on the centre of the round table, and the +other on the seat of one of the chairs. Then lightly poising himself +on his toe, he stepped on to the chair, and from thence on to the +table. In that position he skillfully brought his feet together, so +that his weight was directly on the leg, and gracefully waved his +hands over his head. James and Boots stood by admiring, with open +mouths, and Mr. Dockwrath, with his hands in his pockets, was +meditating whether he could not give the order without complying with +the terms as to ready money.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill06" id="ill06"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill06.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill06-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"There is nothing like iron, Sir; nothing."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"There is nothing like iron, Sir; nothing."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill06.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Look at that for strength," said Mr. Kantwise from his exalted +position. "I don't think any lady of your acquaintance, sir, would +allow you to stand on her rosewood or mahogany loo-table. And if she +did, you would not like to adventure it yourself. But look at this +for strength," and he waved his arms abroad, still keeping his feet +skilfully together in the same exact position.</p> + +<p>At that moment Mr. Moulder awoke. "So you've got your iron traps out, +have you?" said he. "What; you're there, are you? Upon my word I'd +sooner you than me."</p> + +<p>"I certainly should not like to see you up here, Mr. Moulder. I doubt +whether even this table would bear five-and-twenty stone. Joe, lend +me your shoulder, there's a good fellow." And then Mr. Kantwise, +bearing very lightly on the chair, descended to the ground without +accident.</p> + +<p>"Now, that's what I call gammon," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"What is gammon, Mr. Moulder?" said the other, beginning to be angry.</p> + +<p>"It's all gammon. The chairs and tables is gammon, and so is the +stools and the screens."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder, I didn't call your tea and coffee and brandy gammon."</p> + +<p>"You can't; and you wouldn't do any harm if you did. Hubbles and +Grease are too well known in Yorkshire for you to hurt them. But as +for all that show-off and gimcrack-work, I tell you fairly it ain't +what I call trade, and it ain't fit for a commercial room. It's +gammon, gammon, gammon! James, give me a bedcandle." And so Mr. +Moulder took himself off to bed.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll go too," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"You'll let me put you up the set, eh?" said Mr. Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Well; I'll think about it," said the attorney. "I'll not just give +you an answer to-night. Good night, sir; I'm very much obliged to +you." And he too went, leaving Mr. Kantwise to repack his chairs and +tables with the assistance of James the waiter.</p> + + +<p><a name="c7" id="c7"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> +<h3>THE MASONS OF GROBY PARK.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Groby Park is about seven miles from Leeds, in the direction of +Bradford, and thither on the morning after the scene described in the +last chapter Mr. Dockwrath was driven in one of the gigs belonging to +the Bull Inn. The park itself is spacious, but is flat and +uninteresting, being surrounded by a thin belt of new-looking +fir-trees, and containing but very little old or handsome timber. +There are on the high road two very important lodges, between which +is a large ornamented gate, and from thence an excellent road leads +to the mansion, situated in the very middle of the domain. The house +is Greek in its style of architecture,—at least so the owner says; +and if a portico with a pediment and seven Ionic columns makes a +house Greek, the house in Groby Park undoubtedly is Greek.</p> + +<p>Here lived Mr. and Mrs. Mason, the three Misses Mason, and +occasionally the two young Messrs. Mason; for the master of Groby +Park was blessed with five children. He himself was a big, broad, +heavy-browed man, in whose composition there was nothing of +tenderness, nothing of poetry, and nothing of taste; but I cannot say +that he was on the whole a bad man. He was just in his dealings, or +at any rate endeavoured to be so. He strove hard to do his duty as a +county magistrate against very adverse circumstances. He endeavoured +to enable his tenants and labourers to live. He was severe to his +children, and was not loved by them; but nevertheless they were dear +to him, and he endeavoured to do his duty by them. The wife of his +bosom was not a pleasant woman, but nevertheless he did his duty by +her; that is, he neither deserted her, nor beat her, nor locked her +up. I am not sure that he would not have been justified in doing one +of these three things, or even all the three; for Mrs. Mason of Groby +Park was not a pleasant woman.</p> + +<p>But yet he was a bad man in that he could never forget and never +forgive. His mind and heart were equally harsh and hard and +inflexible. He was a man who considered that it behoved him as a man +to resent all injuries, and to have his pound of flesh in all cases. +In his inner thoughts he had ever boasted to himself that he had paid +all men all that he owed. He had, so he thought, injured no one in +any of the relations of life. His tradesmen got their money +regularly. He answered every man's letter. He exacted nothing from +any man for which he did not pay. He never ill-used a servant either +by bad language or by over-work. He never amused himself, but devoted +his whole time to duties. He would fain even have been hospitable, +could he have gotten his neighbours to come to him and have induced +his wife to put upon the table sufficient food for them to eat.</p> + +<p>Such being his virtues, what right had any one to injure him? When he +got from his grocer adulterated coffee,—he analyzed the coffee, as +his half-brother had done the guano,—he would have flayed the man +alive if the law would have allowed him. Had he not paid the man +monthly, giving him the best price as though for the best article? +When he was taken in with a warranty for a horse, he pursued the +culprit to the uttermost. Maid-servants who would not come from their +bedrooms at six o'clock, he would himself disturb while enjoying +their stolen slumbers. From his children he exacted all titles of +respect, because he had a right to them. He wanted nothing that +belonged to any one else, but he could not endure that aught should +be kept from him which he believed to be his own. It may be imagined, +therefore, in what light he esteemed Lady Mason and her son, and how +he regarded their residence at Orley Farm, seeing that he firmly +believed that Orley Farm was his own, if all the truth were known.</p> + +<p>I have already hinted that Mrs. Mason was not a delightful woman. She +had been a beauty, and still imagined that she had not lost all +pretension to be so considered. She spent, therefore, a considerable +portion of her day in her dressing-room, spent a great deal of money +for clothes, and gave herself sundry airs. She was a little woman +with long eyes, and regular eyelashes, with a straight nose, and thin +lips and regular teeth. Her face was oval, and her hair was brown. It +had at least once been all brown, and that which was now seen was +brown also. But, nevertheless, although she was possessed of all +these charms, you might look at her for ten days together, and on the +eleventh you would not know her if you met her in the streets.</p> + +<p>But the appearance of Mrs. Mason was not her forte. She had been a +beauty; but if it had been her lot to be known in history, it was not +as a beauty that she would have been famous. Parsimony was her great +virtue, and a power of saving her strong point. I have said that she +spent much money in dress, and some people will perhaps think that +the two points of character are not compatible. Such people know +nothing of a true spirit of parsimony. It is from the backs and +bellies of other people that savings are made with the greatest +constancy and the most satisfactory results.</p> + +<p>The parsimony of a mistress of a household is best displayed on +matters eatable;—on matters eatable and drinkable; for there is a +fine scope for domestic savings in tea, beer, and milk. And in such +matters chiefly did Mrs. Mason operate, going as far as she dared +towards starving even her husband. But nevertheless she would feed +herself in the middle of the day, having a roast fowl with bread +sauce in her own room. The miser who starves himself and dies without +an ounce of flesh on his bones, while his skinny head lies on a bag +of gold, is after all, respectable. There has been a grand passion in +his life, and that grandest work of man, self-denial. You cannot +altogether despise one who has clothed himself with rags and fed +himself with bone-scrapings, while broadcloth and ortolans were +within his easy reach. But there are women, wives and mothers of +families, who would give the bone-scrapings to their husbands and the +bones to their servants, while they hide the ortolans for themselves; +and would dress children in rags, while they cram chests, drawers, +and boxes with silks and satins for their own backs. Such a woman one +can thoroughly despise, and even hate; and such a woman was Mrs. +Mason of Groby Park.</p> + +<p>I shall not trouble the reader at present with much description of +the young Masons. The eldest son was in the army, and the younger at +Cambridge, both spending much more money than their father allowed +them. Not that he, in this respect, was specially close-fisted. He +ascertained what was sufficient,—amply sufficient as he was told by +the colonel of the regiment and the tutor of the college,—and that +amount he allowed, assuring both Joseph and John that if they spent +more, they would themselves have to pay for it out of the moneys +which should enrich them in future years. But how could the sons of +such a mother be other than spendthrifts? Of course they were +extravagant; of course they spent more than they should have done; +and their father resolved that he would keep his word with them +religiously.</p> + +<p>The daughters were much less fortunate, having no possible means of +extravagance allowed to them. Both the father and mother decided that +they should go out into the county society, and therefore their +clothing was not absolutely of rags. But any young lady who does go +into society, whether it be of county or town, will fully understand +the difference between a liberal and a stingy wardrobe. Girls with +slender provisions of millinery may be fit to go out,—quite fit in +their father's eyes; and yet all such going out may be matter of +intense pain. It is all very well for the world to say that a girl +should be happy without reference to her clothes. Show me such a +girl, and I will show you one whom I should be very sorry that a boy +of mine should choose as his sweetheart.</p> + +<p>The three Misses Mason, as they always were called by the Groby Park +people, had been christened Diana, Creusa, and Penelope, their mother +having a passion for classic literature, which she indulged by a use +of Lemprière's dictionary. They were not especially pretty, nor were +they especially plain. They were well grown and healthy, and quite +capable of enjoying themselves in any of the amusements customary to +young ladies,—if only the opportunities were afforded them.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath had thought it well to write to Mr. Mason, acquainting +that gentleman with his intended visit. Mr. Mason, he said to +himself, would recognise his name, and know whence he came, and under +such circumstances would be sure to see him, although the express +purpose of the proposed interview should not have been explained to +him. Such in result was exactly the case. Mr. Mason did remember the +name of Dockwrath, though he had never hitherto seen the bearer of +it; and as the letter was dated from Hamworth, he felt sufficient +interest in the matter to await at home the coming of his visitor.</p> + +<p>"I know your name, Mr. Mason, sir, and have known it long," said Mr. +Dockwrath, seating himself in the chair which was offered to him in +the magistrate's study; "though I never had the pleasure of seeing +you before,—to my knowledge. My name is Dockwrath, sir, and I am a +solicitor. I live at Hamworth, and I married the daughter of old Mr. +Usbech, sir, whom you will remember."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason listened attentively as these details were uttered before +him so clearly, but he said nothing, merely bowing his head at each +separate statement. He knew all about old Usbech's daughter nearly as +well as Mr. Dockwrath did himself, but he was a man who knew how to +be silent upon occasions.</p> + +<p>"I was too young, sir," continued Dockwrath, "when you had that trial +about Orley Farm to have anything to do with the matter myself, but +nevertheless I remember all the circumstances as though it was +yesterday. I suppose, sir, you remember them also?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Dockwrath, I remember them very well."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, my impression has always been that—" And then the +attorney stopped. It was quite his intention to speak out plainly +before Mr. Mason, but he was anxious that that gentleman should speak +out too. At any rate it might be well that he should be induced to +express some little interest in the matter.</p> + +<p>"Your impression, you say, has always been—" said Mr. Mason, +repeating the words of his companion, and looking as ponderous and +grave as ever. His countenance, however, expressed nothing but his +usual ponderous solemnity.</p> + +<p>"My impression always was—that there was something that had not been +as yet found out."</p> + +<p>"What sort of thing, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"Well; some secret. I don't think that your lawyers managed the +matter well, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"You think you would have done it better, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that, Mr. Mason. I was only a lad at the time, and could +not have managed it at all. But they didn't ferret about enough. Mr. +Mason, there's a deal better evidence than any that is given by word +of mouth. A clever counsel can turn a witness pretty nearly any way +he likes, but he can't do that with little facts. He hasn't the time, +you see, to get round them. Your lawyers, sir, didn't get up the +little facts as they should have done."</p> + +<p>"And you have got them up since, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that, Mr. Mason. You see all my interest lies in +maintaining the codicil. My wife's fortune came to her under that +deed. To be sure that's gone and spent long since, and the Lord +Chancellor with all the judges couldn't enforce restitution; but, +nevertheless, I wouldn't wish that any one should have a claim +against me on that account."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will not object to say what it is that you do wish?"</p> + +<p>"I wish to see right done, Mr. Mason; that's all. I don't think that +Lady Mason or her son have any right to the possession of that place. +I don't think that that codicil was a correct instrument; and in that +case of Mason versus Mason I don't think that you and your friends +got to the bottom of it." And then Mr. Dockwrath leaned back in his +chair with an inward determination to say nothing more, until Mr. +Mason should make some sign.</p> + +<p>That gentleman, however, still remained ponderous and heavy, and +therefore there was a short period of silence—"And have you got to +the bottom of it since, Mr. Dockwrath?" at last he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't say that I have," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Might I ask then what it is you propose to effect by the visit with +which you have honoured me? Of course you are aware that these are +very private matters; and although I should feel myself under an +obligation to you, or to any man who might assist me to arrive at any +true facts which have hitherto been concealed, I am not disposed to +discuss the affair with a stranger on grounds of mere suspicion."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have come here, Mr. Mason, at very great expense, and +personal inconvenience to myself in my profession, if I had not some +good reason for doing so. I don't think that you ever got to the +bottom of that matter, and I can't say that I have done so now; I +haven't even tried. But I tell you what, Mr. Mason; if you wish it, I +think I could put you in the way of—trying."</p> + +<p>"My lawyers are Messrs. Round and Crook of Bedford Row. Will it not +be better that you should go to them, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Mason. I don't think it will be better that I should go to +them. I know Round and Crook well, and don't mean to say a word +against them; but if I go any farther into this affair I must do it +with the principal. I am not going to cut my own throat for the sake +of mending any man's little finger. I have a family of sixteen +children, Mr. Mason, and I have to look about very sharp,—very sharp +indeed." Then there was another pause, and Mr. Dockwrath began to +perceive that Mr. Mason was not by nature an open, demonstrative, or +communicative man. If anything further was to be done, he himself +must open out a little. "The fact is, Mr. Mason, that I have come +across documents which you should have had at that trial. Round and +Crook ought to have had them, only they weren't half sharp. Why, sir, +Mr. Usbech had been your father's man of business for years upon +years, and yet they didn't half go through his papers. They turned +'em over and looked at 'em; but never thought of seeing what little +facts might be proved."</p> + +<p>"And these documents are with you now, here?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Mason, I am not so soft as that. I never carry about +original documents unless when ordered to prove. Copies of one or two +items I have made; not regular copies, Mr. Mason, but just a line or +two to refresh my memory." And Mr. Dockwrath took a small letter-case +out of his breast coat pocket.</p> + +<p>By this time Mr. Mason's curiosity had been roused, and he began to +think it possible that his visitor had discovered information which +might be of importance to him. "Are you going to show me any +document?" said he.</p> + +<p>"That's as may be," said the attorney. "I don't know as yet whether +you care to see it. I have come a long way to do you a service, and +it seems to me you are rather shy of coming forward to meet me. As I +said before, I've a very heavy family, and I'm not going to cut the +nose off my own face to put money into any other man's pocket. What +do you think my journey down here will cost me, including loss of +time, and interruption to my business?"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Dockwrath; if you are really able to put me into +possession of any facts regarding the Orley Farm estate which I ought +to know, I will see that you are compensated for your time and +trouble. Messrs. Round and <span class="nowrap">Crook—"</span></p> + +<p>"I'll have nothing to do with Round and Crook. So that's settled, Mr. +Mason."</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Dockwrath—"</p> + +<p>"Half a minute, Mr. Mason. I'll have nothing to do with Round and +Crook; but as I know you to be a gentleman and a man of honour, I'll +put you in possession of what I've discovered, and leave it to you +afterwards to do what you think right about my expenses, time, and +services. You won't forget that it is a long way from Hamworth to +Groby Park. And if you should +<span class="nowrap">succeed—"</span></p> + +<p>"If I am to look at this document, I must do so without pledging +myself to anything," said Mr. Mason, still with much solemnity. He +had great doubts as to his new acquaintance, and much feared that he +was derogating from his dignity as a county magistrate and owner of +Groby Park in holding any personal intercourse with him; but +nevertheless he could not resist the temptation. He most firmly +believed that that codicil had not expressed the genuine last will +and fair disposition of property made by his father, and it might +certainly be the case that proof of all that he believed was to be +found among the papers of the old lawyer. He hated Lady Mason with +all his power of hatred, and if there did, even yet, exist for him a +chance of upsetting her claims and ruining her before the world, he +was not the man to forego that chance.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you shall see it," said Mr. Dockwrath; "or rather hear +it, for there is not much to see." And so saying he extracted from +his pocket-book a very small bit of paper.</p> + +<p>"I should prefer to read it, if it's all the same to you, Mr. +Dockwrath. I shall understand it much better in that way."</p> + +<p>"As you like, Mr. Mason," said the attorney, handing him the small +bit of paper. "You will understand, sir, that it's no real copy, but +only a few dates and particulars, just jotted down to assist my own +memory." The document, supported by which Mr. Dockwrath had come down +to Yorkshire, consisted of half a sheet of note paper, and the +writing upon this covered hardly the half of it. The words which Mr. +Mason read were as <span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent">Date of codicil. 14th July 18—.</p> + +<p class="noindent">Witnesses to the instrument. John Kenneby; Bridget +Bolster; Jonathan Usbech. N.B. Jonathan Usbech died before +the testator.</p> + +<p class="noindent">Mason and Martock. Deed of separation; dated 14th July +<span class="nowrap">18—.</span></p> + +<p class="noindent">Executed at Orley Farm.</p> + +<p class="noindent">Witnesses John Kenneby; and Bridget Bolster. Deed was +prepared in the office of Jonathan Usbech, and probably +executed in his presence.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>That was all that was written on the paper, and Mr. Mason read the +words to himself three times before he looked up, or said anything +concerning them. He was not a man quick at receiving new ideas into +his mind, or of understanding new points; but that which had once +become intelligible to him and been made his own, remained so always. +"Well," said he, when he read the above words for the third time.</p> + +<p>"You don't see it, sir?" said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"See what?" said Mr. Mason, still looking at the scrap of paper.</p> + +<p>"Why; the dates, to begin with."</p> + +<p>"I see that the dates are the same;—the 14th of July in the same +year."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Dockwrath, looking very keenly into the magistrate's +face.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Mason, looking over the paper at his boot.</p> + +<p>"John Kenneby and Bridget Bolster were witnesses to both the +instruments," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"So I see," said the magistrate.</p> + +<p>"But I don't remember that it came out in evidence that either of +them recollected having been called on for two signatures on the same +day."</p> + +<p>"No; there was nothing of that came out;—or was even hinted at."</p> + +<p>"No; nothing even hinted at, Mr. Mason,—as you justly observe. That +is what I mean by saying that Round and Crook's people didn't get up +their little facts. Believe me, sir, there are men in the profession +out of London who know quite as much as Round and Crook. They ought +to have had those facts, seeing that the very copy of the document +was turned over by their hands." And Mr. Dockwrath hit the table +heavily in the warmth of his indignation against his professional +brethren. Earlier in the interview Mr. Mason would have been made +very angry by such freedom, but he was not angry now.</p> + +<p>"Yes; they ought to have known it," said he. But he did not even yet +see the point. He merely saw that there was a point worth seeing.</p> + +<p>"Known it! Of course they ought to have known it. Look here, Mr. +Mason! If I had it on my mind that I'd thrown over a client of mine +by such carelessness as that, I'd—I'd strike my own name off the +rolls; I would indeed. I never could look a counsel in the face +again, if I'd neglected to brief him with such facts as those. I +suppose it was carelessness; eh, Mr. Mason?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I'm afraid so," said Mr. Mason, still rather in the dark.</p> + +<p>"They could have had no object in keeping it back, I should say."</p> + +<p>"No; none in life. But let us see, Mr. Dockwrath; how does it bear +upon us? The dates are the same, and the witnesses the same."</p> + +<p>"The deed of separation is genuine. There is no doubt about that."</p> + +<p>"Oh; you're sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Quite certain. I found it entered in the old office books. It was +the last of a lot of such documents executed between Mason and +Martock after the old man gave up the business. You see she was +always with him, and knew all about it."</p> + +<p>"About the partnership deed?"</p> + +<p>"Of course she did. She's a clever woman, Mr. Mason; very clever, and +it's almost a pity that she should come to grief. She has carried it +on so well; hasn't she?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason's face now became very black. "Why," said he, "if what you +seem to allege be true, she must be +a—a—<span class="nowrap">a—.</span> What do you mean, sir, +by pity?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath shrugged his shoulders. "It is very blue," said he, +"uncommon blue."</p> + +<p>"She must be a swindler; a common swindler. Nay, worse than that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, a deal worse than that, Mr. Mason. And as for +common;—according to my way of thinking there's nothing at all +common about it. I look upon it as about the best got-up plant I ever +remember to have heard of. I do, indeed, Mr. Mason." The attorney +during the last ten minutes of the conversation had quite altered his +tone, understanding that he had already achieved a great part of his +object; but Mr. Mason in his intense anxiety did not observe this. +Had Mr. Dockwrath, in commencing the conversation, talked about +"plants" and "blue," Mr. Mason would probably have rung his bell for +the servant. "If it's anything, it's forgery," said Mr. Dockwrath, +looking his companion full in the face.</p> + +<p>"I always felt sure that my father never intended to sign such a +codicil as that."</p> + +<p>"He never did sign it, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"And,—and the witnesses!" said Mr. Mason, still not enlightened as +to the true extent of the attorney's suspicion.</p> + +<p>"They signed the other deed; that is two of them did. There is no +doubt about that;—on that very day. They certainly did witness a +signature made by the old gentleman in his own room on that 14th of +July. The original of that document, with the date and their names, +will be forthcoming soon enough."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"But they did not witness two signatures."</p> + +<p>"You think not, eh!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of it. The girl Bolster would have remembered it, and would +have said so. She was sharp enough."</p> + +<p>"Who wrote all the names then at the foot of the will?" said Mr. +Mason.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's the question. Who did write them? We know very well, Mr. +Mason, you and I that is, who did not. And having come to that, I +think we may give a very good guess who did."</p> + +<p>And then they both sat silent for some three or four minutes. Mr. +Dockwrath was quite at his ease, rubbing his chin with his hand, +playing with a paper-knife which he had taken from the study table, +and waiting till it should please Mr. Mason to renew the +conversation. Mr. Mason was not at his ease, though all idea of +affecting any reserve before the attorney had left him. He was +thinking how best he might confound and destroy the woman who had +robbed him for so many years; who had defied him, got the better of +him, and put him to terrible cost; who had vexed his spirit through +his whole life, deprived him of content, and had been to him as a +thorn ever present in a festering sore. He had always believed that +she had defrauded him, but this belief had been qualified by the +unbelief of others. It might have been, he had half thought, that the +old man had signed the codicil in his dotage, having been cheated and +bullied into it by the woman. There had been no day in her life on +which he would not have ruined her, had it been in his power to do +so. But now—now, new and grander ideas were breaking in upon his +mind. Could it be possible that he might live to see her, not merely +deprived of her ill-gained money, but standing in the dock as a felon +to receive sentence for her terrible misdeeds? If that might be so, +would he not receive great compensation for all that he had suffered? +Would it not be sweet to his sense of justice that both of them +should thus at last have their own? He did not even yet understand +all that Mr. Dockwrath suspected. He did not fully perceive why the +woman was supposed to have chosen as the date of her forgery, the +date of that other genuine deed. But he did understand, he did +perceive—at least so he thought,—that new and perhaps conclusive +evidence of her villainy was at last within his reach.</p> + +<p>"And what shall we do now, Mr. Dockwrath?" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Well; am I to understand that you do me the honour of asking my +advice upon that question as being your lawyer?"</p> + +<p>This question immediately brought Mr. Mason back to business that he +did understand. "A man in my position cannot very well change his +legal advisers at a moment's notice. You must be very well aware of +that, Mr. Dockwrath. Messrs. Round and +<span class="nowrap">Crook—"</span></p> + +<p>"Messrs. Round and Crook, sir, have neglected your business in a most +shameful manner. Let me tell you that, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well; that's as may be. I'll tell you what I'll do, Mr. Dockwrath; +I'll think over this matter in quiet, and then I'll come up to town. +Perhaps when there I may expect the honour of a further visit from +you."</p> + +<p>"And you won't mention the matter to Round and Crook?"</p> + +<p>"I can't undertake to say that, Mr. Dockwrath. I think it will +perhaps be better that I should mention it, and then see you +afterwards."</p> + +<p>"And how about my expenses down here?"</p> + +<p>Just at this moment there came a light tap at the study door, and +before the master of the house could give or withhold permission the +mistress of the house entered the room. "My dear," she said, "I +didn't know that you were engaged."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am engaged," said the gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure I beg pardon. Perhaps this is the gentleman from +Hamworth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," said Mr. Dockwrath. "I am the gentleman from Hamworth. +I hope I have the pleasure of seeing you very well, ma'am?" And +getting up from his chair he bowed politely.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath, Mrs. Mason," said the lady's husband, introducing +them; and then Mrs. Mason curtsied to the stranger. She too was very +anxious to know what might be the news from Hamworth.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath will lunch with us, my dear," said Mr. Mason. And then +the lady, on hospitable cares intent, left them again to themselves.</p> + + +<p><a name="c8" id="c8"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> +<h3>MRS. MASON'S HOT LUNCHEON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Though Mr. Dockwrath was somewhat elated by this invitation to lunch, +he was also somewhat abashed by it. He had been far from expecting +that Mr. Mason of Groby Park would do him any such honour, and was +made aware by it of the great hold which he must have made upon the +attention of his host. But nevertheless he immediately felt that his +hands were to a certain degree tied. He, having been invited to sit +down at Mr. Mason's table, with Mrs. M. and the family,—having been +treated as though he were a gentleman, and thus being for the time +being put on a footing of equality with the county magistrate, could +not repeat that last important question: "How about my expenses down +here?" nor could he immediately go on with the grand subject in any +frame of mind which would tend to further his own interests. Having +been invited to lunch, he could not haggle with due persistency for +his share of the business in crushing Lady Mason, nor stipulate that +the whole concern should not be trusted to the management of Round +and Crook. As a source of pride this invitation to eat was pleasant +to him, but he was forced to acknowledge to himself that it +interfered with business.</p> + +<p>Nor did Mr. Mason feel himself ready to go on with the conversation +in the manner in which it had been hitherto conducted. His mind was +full of Orley Farm and his wrongs, and he could bring himself to +think of nothing else; but he could no longer talk about it to the +attorney sitting there in his study. "Will you take a turn about the +place while the lunch is getting ready?" he said. So they took their +hats and went out into the garden.</p> + +<p>"It is dreadful to think of," said Mr. Mason, after they had twice +walked in silence the length of a broad gravel terrace.</p> + +<p>"What; about her ladyship?" said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Quite dreadful!" and Mr. Mason shuddered. "I don't think I ever +heard of anything so shocking in my life. For twenty years, Mr. +Dockwrath, think of that. Twenty years!" and his face as he spoke +became almost black with horror.</p> + +<p>"It is very shocking," said Mr. Dockwrath; "very shocking. What on +earth will be her fate if it be proved against her? She has brought +it on herself; that is all that one can say of her."</p> + +<p>"D—— her! d—— her!" exclaimed the other, gnashing his teeth with +concentrated wrath. "No punishment will be bad enough for her. +Hanging would not be bad enough."</p> + +<p>"They can't hang her, Mr. Mason," said Mr. Dockwrath, almost +frightened by the violence of his companion.</p> + +<p>"No; they have altered the laws, giving every encouragement to +forgers, villains, and perjurers. But they can give her penal +servitude for life. They must do it."</p> + +<p>"She is not convicted yet, you know."</p> + +<p>"D—— her!" repeated the owner of Groby Park again, as he thought of +his twenty years of loss. Eight hundred a year for twenty years had +been taken away from him; and he had been worsted before the world +after a hard fight. +<span class="nowrap">"D——</span> her!" he continued to growl between his +teeth. Mr. Dockwrath when he had first heard his companion say how +horrid and dreadful the affair was, had thought that Mr. Mason was +alluding to the condition in which the lady had placed herself by her +assumed guilt. But it was of his own condition that he was speaking. +The idea which shocked him was the thought of the treatment which he +himself had undergone. The dreadful thing at which he shuddered was +his own ill usage. As for her;—pity for her! Did a man ever pity a +rat that had eaten into his choicest dainties?</p> + +<p>"The lunch is on the table, sir," said the Groby Park footman in the +Groby Park livery. Under the present household arrangement of Groby +Park all the servants lived on board wages. Mrs. Mason did not like +this system, though it had about it certain circumstances of economy +which recommended it to her; it interfered greatly with the stringent +aptitudes of her character and the warmest passion of her heart; it +took away from her the delicious power of serving out the servants' +food, of locking up the scraps of meat, and of charging the maids +with voracity. But, to tell the truth, Mr. Mason had been driven by +sheer necessity to take this step, as it had been found impossible to +induce his wife to give out sufficient food to enable the servants to +live and work. She knew that in not doing so she injured herself; but +she could not do it. The knife in passing through the loaf would make +the portion to be parted with less by one third than the portion to +be retained. Half a pound of salt butter would reduce itself to a +quarter of a pound. Portions of meat would become infinitesimal. When +standing with viands before her, she had not free will over her +hands. She could not bring herself to part with victuals, though she +might ruin herself by retaining them. Therefore, by the order of the +master, were the servants placed on board wages.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath soon found himself in the dining-room, where the three +young ladies with their mamma were already seated at the table. It +was a handsome room, and the furniture was handsome; but nevertheless +it was a heavy room, and the furniture was heavy. The table was large +enough for a party of twelve, and might have borne a noble banquet; +as it was the promise was not bad, for there were three large plated +covers concealing hot viands, and in some houses lunch means only +bread and cheese.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason went through the form of introduction between Mr. Dockwrath +and his daughters. "That is Miss Mason, that Miss Creusa Mason, and +this Miss Penelope. John, remove the covers." And the covers were +removed, John taking them from the table with a magnificent action of +his arm which I am inclined to think was not innocent of irony. On +the dish before the master of the house,—a large dish which must I +fancy have been selected by the cook with some similar attempt at +sarcasm,—there reposed three scraps, as to the nature of which Mr. +Dockwrath, though he looked hard at them, was unable to enlighten +himself. But Mr. Mason knew them well, as he now placed his eyes on +them for the third time. They were old enemies of his, and his brow +again became black as he looked at them. The scraps in fact consisted +of two drumsticks of a fowl and some indescribable bone out of the +back of the same. The original bird had no doubt first revealed all +its glories to human eyes,—presuming the eyes of the cook to be +inhuman—in Mrs. Mason's "boodoor." Then, on the dish before the +lady, there were three other morsels, black-looking and very +suspicious to the eye, which in the course of conversation were +proclaimed to be ham,—broiled ham. Mrs. Mason would never allow a +ham in its proper shape to come into the room, because it is an +article upon which the guests are themselves supposed to operate with +the carving-knife. Lastly, on the dish before Miss Creusa there +reposed three potatoes.</p> + +<p>The face of Mr. Mason became very black as he looked at the banquet +which was spread upon his board, and Mrs. Mason, eyeing him across +the table, saw that it was so. She was not a lady who despised such +symptoms in her lord, or disregarded in her valour the violence of +marital storms. She had quailed more than once or twice under rebuke +occasioned by her great domestic virtue, and knew that her husband, +though he might put up with much as regarded his own comfort, and +that of his children, could be very angry at injuries done to his +household honour and character as a hospitable English country +gentleman.</p> + +<p>Consequently the lady smiled and tried to look self-satisfied as she +invited her guest to eat. "This is ham," said she with a little +simper, "broiled ham, Mr. Dockwrath; and there is chicken at the +other end; I think they call it—devilled."</p> + +<p>"Shall I assist the young ladies to anything first?" said the +attorney, wishing to be polite.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, thank you," said Miss Penelope, with a very stiff bow. She +also knew that Mr. Dockwrath was an attorney from Hamworth, and +considered herself by no means bound to hold any sort of conversation +with him.</p> + +<p>"My daughters only eat bread and butter in the middle of the day," +said the lady. "Creusa, my dear, will you give Mr. Dockwrath a +potato. Mr. Mason, Mr. Dockwrath will probably take a bit of that +chicken."</p> + +<p>"I would recommend him to follow the girls' example, and confine +himself to the bread and butter," said the master of the house, +pushing about the scraps with his knife and fork. "There is nothing +here for him to eat."</p> + +<p>"My dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing here for him to eat," repeated Mr. Mason. "And as +far as I can see there is nothing there either. What is it you +pretend to have in that dish?"</p> + +<p>"My dear!" again exclaimed Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" repeated the lord of the house in an angry tone.</p> + +<p>"Broiled ham, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Then let the ham be brought in," said he. "Diana, ring the bell."</p> + +<p>"But the ham is not cooked, Mr. Mason," said the lady. "Broiled ham +is always better when it has not been first boiled."</p> + +<p>"Is there no cold meat in the house?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not," she replied, now trembling a little in +anticipation of what might be coming after the stranger should have +gone. "You never like large joints yourself, Mr. Mason; and for +ourselves we don't eat meat at luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Nor anybody else either, here," said Mr. Mason in his anger.</p> + +<p>"Pray don't mind me, Mr. Mason," said the attorney, "pray don't, Mr. +Mason. I am a very poor fist at lunch; I am indeed."</p> + +<p>"I am sure I am very sorry, very sorry, Mr. Mason," continued the +lady. "If I had known that an early dinner was required, it should +have been provided;—although the notice given was so very short."</p> + +<p>"I never dine early," said Mr. Dockwrath, thinking that some +imputation of a low way of living was conveyed in this supposition +that he required a dinner under the pseudonym of a lunch. "I never +do, upon my word—we are quite regular at home at half-past five, and +all I ever take in the middle of the day is a biscuit and a glass of +sherry,—or perhaps a bite of bread and cheese. Don't be uneasy about +me, Mrs. Mason."</p> + +<p>The three young ladies, having now finished their repast, got up from +the table and retired, following each other out of the room in a +line. Mrs. Mason remained for a minute or two longer, and then she +also went. "The carriage has been ordered at three, Mr. M.," she +said. "Shall we have the pleasure of your company?" "No," growled the +husband. And then the lady went, sweeping a low curtsy to Mr. +Dockwrath as she passed out of the room.</p> + +<p>There was again a silence between the host and his guest for some two +or three minutes, during which Mr. Mason was endeavouring to get the +lunch out of his head, and to redirect his whole mind to Lady Mason +and his hopes of vengeance. There is nothing perhaps so generally +consoling to a man as a well-established grievance; a feeling of +having been injured, on which his mind can brood from hour to hour, +allowing him to plead his own cause in his own court, within his own +heart,—and always to plead it successfully. At last Mr. Mason +succeeded, and he could think of his enemy's fraud and forget his +wife's meanness. "I suppose I may as well order my gig now," said Mr. +Dockwrath, as soon as his host had arrived at this happy frame of +mind.</p> + +<p>"Your gig? ah, well. Yes. I do not know that I need detain you any +longer. I can assure you that I am much obliged to you, Mr. +Dockwrath, and I shall hope to see you in London very shortly."</p> + +<p>"You are determined to go to Round and Crook, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly."</p> + +<p>"You are wrong, sir. They'll throw you over again as sure as your +name is Mason."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath, you must if you please allow me to judge of that +myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, sir, of course. But I'm sure that a gentleman like +you, Mr. Mason, will <span class="nowrap">understand—"</span></p> + +<p>"I shall understand that I cannot expect your services, Mr. +Dockwrath,—your valuable time and services,—without remunerating +you for them. That shall be fully explained to Messrs. Round and +Crook."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir; very well. As long as I am paid for what I do, I am +content. A professional gentleman of course expects that. How is he +to get along else; particular with sixteen children?" And then Mr. +Dockwrath got into the gig, and was driven back to the Bull at Leeds.</p> + + +<p><a name="c9" id="c9"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> +<h3>A CONVIVIAL MEETING.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the whole Mr. Dockwrath was satisfied with the results of his trip +to Groby Park, and was in a contented frame of mind as he was driven +back to Leeds. No doubt it would have been better could he have +persuaded Mr. Mason to throw over Messrs. Round and Crook, and put +himself altogether into the hands of his new adviser; but this had +been too much to expect. He had not expected it, and had made the +suggestion as the surest means of getting the best terms in his +power, rather than with a hope of securing the actual advantage +named. He had done much towards impressing Mr. Mason with an idea of +his own sharpness, and perhaps something also towards breaking the +prestige which surrounded the names of the great London firm. He +would now go to that firm and make his terms with them. They would +probably be quite as ready to acquiesce in the importance of his +information as had been Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>Before leaving the inn after breakfast he had agreed to join the +dinner in the commercial room at five o'clock, and Mr. Mason's hot +lunch had by no means induced him to alter his purpose. "I shall dine +here," he had said when Mr. Moulder was discussing with the waiter +the all-important subject of dinner. "At the commercial table sir?" +the waiter had asked, doubtingly. Mr. Dockwrath had answered boldly +in the affirmative, whereat Mr. Moulder had growled; but Mr. Kantwise +had expressed satisfaction. "We shall be extremely happy to enjoy +your company," Mr. Kantwise had said, with a graceful bow, making up +by his excessive courtesy for the want of any courtesy on the part of +his brother-traveller. With reference to all this Mr. Moulder said +nothing; the stranger had been admitted into the room, to a certain +extent even with his own consent, and he could not now be turned out; +but he resolved within his own mind that for the future he would be +more firm in maintaining the ordinances and institutes of his +profession.</p> + +<p>On his road home, Mr. Dockwrath had encountered Mr. Kantwise going to +Groby Park, intent on his sale of a drawing-room set of the metallic +furniture; and when he again met him in the commercial room he asked +after his success. "A wonderful woman that, Mr. Dockwrath," said Mr. +Kantwise, "a really wonderful woman; no particular friend of yours I +think you say?"</p> + +<p>"None in the least, Mr. Kantwise,"</p> + +<p>"Then I may make bold to assert that for persevering sharpness she +beats all that I ever met, even in Yorkshire;" and Mr. Kantwise +looked at his new friend over his shoulder, and shook his head as +though lost in wonder and admiration. "What do you think she's done +now?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't give you much to eat, I take it."</p> + +<p>"Much to eat! I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Dockwrath; my belief is +that woman would have an absolute pleasure in starving a Christian; I +do indeed. I'll tell you what she has done; she has made me put her +up a set of them things at twelve, seventeen, six! I needn't tell you +that they were never made for the money."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, did you part with them at a loss?"</p> + +<p>"Well; that's the question. I was soft, I suppose. She got round me, +badgering me, till I didn't know where I was. She wanted them as a +present for the curate's wife, she said. Whatever should induce her +to make a present!"</p> + +<p>"She got them for twelve, seventeen, six; did she?" said Dockwrath, +thinking that it might be as well to remember this, if he should feel +inclined to make a purchase himself.</p> + +<p>"But they was strained, Mr. Dockwrath; I must admit they was +strained,—particularly the loo."</p> + +<p>"You had gone through your gymnastics on it a little too often?" +asked the attorney. But this Mr. Kantwise would not acknowledge. The +strength of that table was such that he could stand on it for ever +without injury to it; but nevertheless, in some other way it had +become strained, and therefore he had sold the set to Mrs. Mason for +£12 17<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, that lady being minded to make a costly present to +the wife of the curate of Groby.</p> + +<p>When dinner-time came Mr. Dockwrath found that the party was swelled +to the number of eight, five other undoubted commercials having +brought themselves to anchor at the Bull Inn during the day. To all +of these, Mr. Kantwise introduced him. "Mr. Gape, Mr. Dockwrath," +said he, gracefully moving towards them the palm of his hand, and +eyeing them over his shoulder. "Mr. Gape is in the stationery line," +he added, in a whisper to the attorney, "and does for Cumming and +Jibber of St. Paul's Churchyard. Mr. Johnson, Mr. Dockwrath. Mr. J. +is from Sheffield. Mr. Snengkeld, Mr. Dockwrath;" and then he +imparted in another whisper the necessary information as to Mr. +Snengkeld. "Soft goods, for Brown Brothers, of Snow Hill," and so on +through the whole fraternity. Each member bowed as his name was +mentioned; but they did not do so very graciously, as Mr. Kantwise +was not a great man among them. Had the stranger been introduced to +them by Moulder,—Moulder the patriarch,—his reception among them +would have been much warmer. And then they sat down to dinner, Mr. +Moulder taking the chair as president, and Mr. Kantwise sitting +opposite to him, as being the longest sojourner at the inn. Mr. +Dockwrath sat at the right hand of Kantwise, discreetly avoiding the +neighbourhood of Moulder, and the others ranged themselves according +to fancy at the table. "Come up along side of me, old fellow," +Moulder said to Snengkeld. "It ain't the first time that you and I +have smacked our lips together over the same bit of roast beef." "Nor +won't, I hope, be the last by a long chalk, Mr. Moulder," said +Snengkeld, speaking with a deep, hoarse voice which seemed to ascend +from some region of his body far below his chest. Moulder and +Snengkeld were congenial spirits; but the latter, though the older +man, was not endowed with so large a volume of body or so highly +dominant a spirit. Brown Brothers, of Snow Hill, were substantial +people, and Mr. Snengkeld travelled in strict accordance with the +good old rules of trade which Moulder loved so well.</p> + +<p>The politeness and general good manners of the company were something +very pretty to witness. Mr. Dockwrath, as a stranger, was helped +first, and every courtesy was shown to him. Even Mr. Moulder carved +the beef for him with a loving hand, and Mr. Kantwise was almost +subservient in his attention. Mr. Dockwrath thought that he had +certainly done right in coming to the commercial table, and resolved +on doing so on all occasions of future journeys. So far all was good. +The commercial dinner, as he had ascertained, would cost him only two +shillings, and a much inferior repast eaten by himself elsewhere +would have stood in his bill for three. So far all was good; but the +test by which he was to be tried was now approaching him.</p> + +<p>When the dinner was just half over,—Mr. Moulder well knew how to +mark the time,—that gentleman called for the waiter, and whispered +an important order into that functionary's ears. The functionary +bowed, retired from the room, and reappeared again in two minutes, +bearing a bottle of sherry in each hand; one of these he deposited at +the right hand of Mr. Moulder; and the other at the right hand of Mr. +Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Mr. Moulder, addressing himself with great ceremony to +Mr. Dockwrath, "the honour of a glass of wine with you, sir," and the +president, to give more importance to the occasion, put down his +knife and fork, leaned back in his chair, and put both his hands upon +his waistcoat, looking intently at the attorney out of his little +eyes.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath was immediately aware that a crisis had come upon him +which demanded an instant decision. If he complied with the +president's invitation he would have to pay his proportion of all the +wine bill that might be incurred that evening by the seven commercial +gentlemen at the table, and he knew well that commercial gentlemen do +sometimes call for bottle after bottle with a reckless disregard of +expense. But to him, with his sixteen children, wine at an hotel was +terrible. A pint of beer and a glass of brandy and water were the +luxuries which he had promised himself, and with manly fortitude he +resolved that he would not be coerced into extravagance by any +president or any Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "I'm obliged by the honour, but I don't drink wine to +my dinner." Whereupon Mr. Moulder bowed his head very solemnly, +winked at Snengkeld, and then drank wine with that gentleman.</p> + +<p>"It's the rule of the room," whispered Mr. Kantwise into Mr. +Dockwrath's ear; but Mr. Dockwrath pretended not to hear him, and the +matter was allowed to pass by for the time.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Snengkeld asked him for the honour, as also did Mr. Gape, who +sat at Moulder's left hand; and then Mr. Dockwrath began to wax +angry. "I think I remarked before that I don't drink wine to my +dinner," he said; and then the three at the president's end of the +table all looked at each other very solemnly, and they all winked; +and after that there was very little conversation during the +remainder of the meal, for men knew that the goddess of discord was +in the air.</p> + +<p>The cheese came, and with that a bottle of port wine, which was +handed round, Mr. Dockwrath of course refusing to join in the +conviviality; and then the cloth was drawn, and the decanters were +put before the president. "James, bring me a little +brandy-and-water," said the attorney, striving to put a bold face on +the matter, but yet speaking with diminished voice.</p> + +<p>"Half a moment, if you please, sir," said Moulder; and then he +exclaimed with stentorian voice, "James, the dinner bill." "Yes, +sir," said the waiter, and disappeared without any thought towards +the requisition for brandy-and-water from Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>For the next five minutes they all remained silent, except that Mr. +Moulder gave the Queen's health as he filled his glass and pushed the +bottles from him. "Gentlemen, the Queen," and then he lifted his +glass of port up to the light, shut one eye as he looked at it, and +immediately swallowed the contents as though he were taking a dose of +physic. "I'm afraid they'll charge you for the wine," said Mr. +Kantwise, again whispering to his neighbour. But Mr. Dockwrath paid +no apparent attention to what was said to him. He was concentrating +his energies with a view to the battle.</p> + +<p>James, the waiter, soon returned. He also knew well what was about to +happen, and he trembled as he handed in the document to the +president. "Let's have it, James," said Moulder, with much +pleasantry, as he took the paper in his hand. "The old ticket I +suppose; five bob a head." And then he read out the bill, the total +of which, wine and beer included, came to forty shillings. "Five +shillings a head, gentlemen, as I said. You and I can make a pretty +good guess as to the figure; eh, Snengkeld?" And then he put down his +two half-crowns on the waiter, as also did Mr. Snengkeld, and then +Mr. Gape, and so on till it came to Mr. Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"I think you and I will leave it, and settle at the bar," said +Kantwise, appealing to Dockwrath, and intending peace if peace were +still possible.</p> + +<p>"No," shouted Moulder, from the other end of the table; "let the man +have his money now, and then his troubles will be over. If there's to +be any fuss about it, let's have it out. I like to see the dinner +bill settled as soon as the dinner is eaten. Then one gets an +appetite for one's supper."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I have the change," said Kantwise, still putting off +the evil day.</p> + +<p>"I'll lend, it you," said Moulder, putting his hand into his +trousers-pockets. But the money was forthcoming out of Mr. Kantwise's +own proper repositories, and with slow motion he put down the five +shillings one after the other.</p> + +<p>And then the waiter came to Mr. Dockwrath. "What's this?" said the +attorney, taking up the bill and looking at it. The whole matter had +been sufficiently explained to him, but nevertheless Mr. Moulder +explained it again. "In commercial rooms, sir, as no doubt you must +be well aware, seeing that you have done us the honour of joining us +here, the dinner bill is divided equally among all the gentlemen as +sit down. It's the rule of the room, sir. You has what you like, and +you calls for what you like, and conwiviality is thereby encouraged. +The figure generally comes to five shillings, and you afterwards +gives what you like to the waiter. That's about it, ain't it, James?"</p> + +<p>"That's the rule, sir, in all commercial rooms as I ever see," said +the waiter.</p> + +<p>The matter had been so extremely well put by Mr. Moulder, and that +gentleman's words had carried with them so much conviction, that +Dockwrath felt himself almost tempted to put down the money; as far +as his sixteen children and general ideas of economy were concerned +he would have done so; but his legal mind could not bear to be +beaten. The spirit of litigation within him told him that the point +was to be carried. Moulder, Gape, and Snengkeld together could not +make him pay for wine he had neither ordered nor swallowed. His +pocket was guarded by the law of the land, and not by the laws of any +special room in which he might chance to find himself. "I shall pay +two shillings for my dinner," said he, "and sixpence for my beer;" +and then he deposited the half-crown.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean us to understand," said Moulder, "that after forcing +your way into this room, and sitting down along with gentlemen at +this table, you refuse to abide by the rules of the room?" And Mr. +Moulder spoke and looked as though he thought that such treachery +must certainly lead to most disastrous results. The disastrous result +which a stranger might have expected at the moment would be a fit of +apoplexy on the part of the worthy president.</p> + +<p>"I neither ordered that wine nor did I drink it," said Mr. Dockwrath, +compressing his lips, leaning back in his chair, and looking up into +one corner of the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman certainly did not drink the wine," said Kantwise, "I +must acknowledge that; and as for ordering it, why that was done by +the president, in course."</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" said Mr. Moulder, and he fixed his eyes steadfastly upon +his Vice. "Kantwise, that's gammon. The most of what you says is +gammon."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder, I don't exactly know what you mean by that word gammon, +but it's objectionable. To my feelings it's very objectionable. I say +that the gentleman did not drink the wine, and I appeal to the +gentleman who sits at the gentleman's right, whether what I say is +not correct. If what I say is correct, it can't be—gammon. Mr. +Busby, did that gentleman drink the wine, or did he not?"</p> + +<p>"Not as I see," said Mr. Busby, somewhat nervous at being thus +brought into the controversy. He was a young man just commencing his +travels, and stood in awe of the great Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" shouted Moulder, with a very red face. "Everybody at the +table knows he didn't drink the wine. Everybody saw that he declined +the honour when proposed, which I don't know that I ever saw a +gentleman do at a commercial table till this day, barring that he was +a teetotaller, which is gammon too. But its P.P. here, as every +commercial gentleman knows, Kantwise as well as the best of us."</p> + +<p>"P.P., that's the rule," growled Snengkeld, almost from under the +table.</p> + +<p>"In commercial rooms, as the gentleman must be aware, the rule is as +stated by my friend on my right," said Mr. Gape. "The wine is ordered +by the president or chairman, and is paid for in equal proportions by +the company or guests," and in his oratory Mr. Gape laid great stress +on the word "or." "The gentleman will easily perceive that such a +rule as this is necessary in such a society; and +<span class="nowrap">unless—"</span></p> + +<p>But Mr. Gape was apt to make long speeches, and therefore Mr. Moulder +interrupted him. "You had better pay your five shillings, sir, and +have no jaw about it. The man is standing idle there."</p> + +<p>"It's not the value of the money," said Dockwrath, "but I must +decline to acknowledge that I am amenable to the jurisdiction."</p> + +<p>"There has clearly been a mistake," said Johnson from Sheffield, "and +we had better settle it among us; anything is better than a row." +Johnson from Sheffield was a man somewhat inclined to dispute the +supremacy of Moulder from Houndsditch.</p> + +<p>"No, Johnson," said the president. "Anything is not better than a +row. A premeditated infraction of our rules is not better than a +row."</p> + +<p>"Did you say premeditated?" said Kantwise. "I think not +premeditated."</p> + +<p>"I did say premeditated, and I say it again."</p> + +<p>"It looks uncommon like it," said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"When a gentleman," said Gape, "who does not belong to a +<span class="nowrap">society—"</span></p> + +<p>"It's no good having more talk," said Moulder, "and we'll soon bring +this to an end. Mr.—; I haven't the honour of knowing the +gentleman's name."</p> + +<p>"My name is Dockwrath, and I am a solicitor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a solicitor; are you? and you said last night you was +commercial! Will you be good enough to tell us, Mr. Solicitor—for I +didn't just catch your name, except that it begins with a dock—and +that's where most of your clients are to be found, I +<span class="nowrap">suppose—"</span></p> + +<p>"Order, order, order!" said Kantwise, holding up both his hands.</p> + +<p>"It's the chair as is speaking," said Mr. Gape, who had a true +Englishman's notion that the chair itself could not be called to +order.</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't insult the gentleman because he has his own ideas," +said Johnson.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to insult no one," continued Moulder; "and those who +know me best, among whom I can't as yet count Mr. Johnson, though +hopes I shall some day, won't say it of me." "Hear—hear—hear!" from +both Snengkeld and Gape; to which Kantwise added a little +"hear—hear!" of his own, of which Mr. Moulder did not quite approve. +"Mr. Snengkeld and Mr. Gape, they're my old friends, and they knows +me. And they knows the way of a commercial room—which some gentlemen +don't seem as though they do. I don't want to insult no one; but as +chairman here at this conwivial meeting, I asks that gentleman who +says he is a solicitor whether he means to pay his dinner bill +according to the rules of the room, or whether he don't?"</p> + +<p>"I've paid for what I've had already," said Dockwrath, "and I don't +mean to pay for what I've not had."</p> + +<p>"James," exclaimed Moulder,—and all the chairman was in his voice as +he spoke,—"my compliments to Mr. Crump, and I will request his +attendance for five minutes;" and then James left the room, and there +was silence for a while, during which the bottles made their round of +the table.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't we better send back the pint of wine which Mr. Dockwrath +hasn't used?" suggested Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"I'm d—— if we do!" replied Moulder, with much energy; and the +general silence was not again broken till Mr. Crump made his +appearance; but the chairman whispered a private word or two to his +friend Snengkeld. "I never sent back ordered liquor to the bar yet, +unless it was bad; and I'm not going to begin now."</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Crump came in. Mr. Crump was a very clean-looking +person, without any beard; and dressed from head to foot in black. He +was about fifty, with grizzly gray hair, which stood upright on his +head, and his face at the present moment wore on it an innkeeper's +smile. But it could also assume an innkeeper's frown, and on +occasions did so—when bills were disputed, or unreasonable strangers +thought that they knew the distance in posting miles round the +neighbourhood of Leeds better than did he, Mr. Crump, who had lived +at the Bull Inn all his life. But Mr. Crump rarely frowned on +commercial gentlemen, from whom was derived the main stay of his +business and the main prop of his house.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crump," began Moulder, "here has occurred a very unpleasant +transaction."</p> + +<p>"I know all about it, gentlemen," said Mr. Crump. "The waiter has +acquainted me, and I can assure you, gentlemen, that I am extremely +sorry that anything should have arisen to disturb the harmony of your +dinner-table."</p> + +<p>"We must now call upon you, Mr. Crump," began Mr. Moulder, who was +about to demand that Dockwrath should be turned bodily out of the +room.</p> + +<p>"If you'll allow me one moment, Mr. Moulder," continued Mr. Crump, +"and I'll tell you what is my suggestion. The gentleman here, who I +understand is a lawyer, does not wish to comply with the rules of the +commercial room."</p> + +<p>"I certainly don't wish or intend to pay for drink that I didn't +order and haven't had," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Mr. Crump. "And therefore, gentlemen, to get out of +the difficulty, we'll presume, if you please, that the bill is paid."</p> + +<p>"The lawyer, as you call him, will have to leave the room," said +Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he will not object to step over to the coffee-room on the +other side," suggested the landlord.</p> + +<p>"I can't think of leaving my seat here under such circumstances," +said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"You can't," said Moulder. "Then you must be made, as I take it."</p> + +<p>"Let me see the man that will make me," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crump looked very apologetic and not very comfortable. "There is +a difficulty, gentlemen; there is a difficulty, indeed," he said. +"The fact is, the gentleman should not have been showed into the room +at all;" and he looked very angrily at his own servant, James.</p> + +<p>"He said he was 'mercial," said James. "So he did. Now he says as how +he's a lawyer. What's a poor man to do?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a commercial lawyer," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"He must leave the room, or I shall leave the house," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" said Crump. "This kind of thing does not +happen often, and on this occasion I must try your kind patience. If +Mr. Moulder would allow me to suggest that the commercial gentlemen +should take their wine in the large drawing-room up stairs this +evening, Mrs. C. will do her best to make it comfortable for them in +five minutes. There of course they can be private."</p> + +<p>There was something in the idea of leaving Mr. Dockwrath alone in his +glory which appeased the spirit of the great Moulder. He had known +Crump, moreover, for many years, and was aware that it would be a +dangerous, and probably an expensive proceeding to thrust out the +attorney by violence. "If the other gentlemen are agreeable, I am," +said he. The other gentlemen were agreeable, and, with the exception +of Kantwise, they all rose from their chairs.</p> + +<p>"I must say I think you ought to leave the room as you don't choose +to abide by the rules," said Johnson, addressing himself to +Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"That's your opinion," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is," said Johnson. "That's my opinion."</p> + +<p>"My own happens to be different," said Dockwrath; and so he kept his +chair.</p> + +<p>"There, Mr. Crump," said Moulder, taking half a crown from his pocket +and throwing it on the table. "I sha'n't see you at a loss."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," said Mr. Crump; and he very humbly took up the +money.</p> + +<p>"I keep a little account for charity at home," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"It don't run very high, do it?" asked Snengkeld, jocosely.</p> + +<p>"Not out of the way, it don't. But now I shall have the pleasure of +writing down in it that I paid half a crown for a lawyer who couldn't +afford to settle his own dinner bill. Sir, we have the pleasure of +wishing you a good night."</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll find the large drawing-room up stairs quite +comfortable," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>And then they all marched out of the room, each with his own glass, +Mr. Moulder leading the way with stately step. It was pleasant to see +them as they all followed their leader across the open passage of the +gateway, in by the bar, and so up the chief staircase. Mr. Moulder +walked slowly, bearing the bottle of port and his own glass, and Mr. +Snengkeld and Mr. Gape followed in line, bearing also their own +glasses, and maintaining the dignity of their profession under +circumstances of some difficulty.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill09" id="ill09"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill09.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill09-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="And then they all marched out of the room, + each with his own glass." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">And then they all marched out of the room, + each with his own glass.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill09.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Gentlemen, I really am sorry for this little accident," said Mr. +Crump, as they were passing the bar; "but a lawyer, you +<span class="nowrap">know—"</span></p> + +<p>"And such a lawyer, eh, Crump?" said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"It might be five-and-twenty pound to me to lay a hand on him!" said +the landlord.</p> + +<p>When the time came for Mr. Kantwise to move, he considered the matter +well. The chances, however, as he calculated them, were against any +profitable business being done with the attorney, so he also left the +room. "Good night, sir," he said as he went. "I wish you a very good +night."</p> + +<p>"Take care of yourself," said Dockwrath; and then the attorney spent +the rest of the evening alone.</p> + + +<p><a name="c10" id="c10"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> +<h3>MR., MRS., AND MISS FURNIVAL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I will now ask my readers to come with me up to London, in order that +I may introduce them to the family of the Furnivals. We shall see +much of the Furnivals before we reach the end of our present +undertaking, and it will be well that we should commence our +acquaintance with them as early as may be done.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival was a lawyer—I mean a barrister—belonging to Lincoln's +Inn, and living at the time at which our story is supposed to +commence in Harley Street. But he had not been long a resident in +Harley Street, having left the less fashionable neighbourhood of +Russell Square only two or three years before that period. On his +marriage he had located himself in a small house in Keppel Street, +and had there remained till professional success, long waited for, +enabled him to move further west, and indulge himself with the +comforts of larger rooms and more servants. At the time of which I am +now speaking Mr. Furnival was known, and well known, as a successful +man; but he had struggled long and hard before that success had come +to him, and during the earliest years of his married life had found +the work of keeping the wolf from the door to be almost more than +enough for his energies.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival practised at the common law bar, and early in life had +attached himself to the home circuit. I cannot say why he obtained no +great success till he was nearer fifty than forty years of age. At +that time I fancy that barristers did not come to their prime till a +period of life at which other men are supposed to be in their +decadence. Nevertheless, he had married on nothing, and had kept the +wolf from the door. To do this he had been constant at his work in +season and out of season, during the long hours of day and the long +hours of night. Throughout his term times he had toiled in court, and +during the vacations he had toiled out of court. He had reported +volumes of cases, having been himself his own short-hand writer,—as +it is well known to most young lawyers, who as a rule always fill an +upper shelf in their law libraries with Furnival and Staples' +seventeen volumes in calf. He had worked for the booksellers, and for +the newspapers, and for the attorneys,—always working, however, with +reference to the law; and though he had worked for years with the +lowest pay, no man had heard him complain. That no woman had heard +him do so, I will not say; as it is more than probable that into the +sympathising ears of Mrs. Furnival he did pour forth plaints as to +the small wages which the legal world meted out to him in return for +his labours. He was a constant, hard, patient man, and at last there +came to him the full reward of all his industry. What was the special +case by which Mr. Furnival obtained his great success no man could +say. In all probability there was no special case. Gradually it began +to be understood that he was a safe man, understanding his trade, +true to his clients, and very damaging as an opponent. Legal +gentlemen are, I believe, quite as often bought off as bought up. Sir +Richard and Mr. Furnival could not both be required on the same side, +seeing what a tower of strength each was in himself; but then Sir +Richard would be absolutely neutralized if Mr. Furnival were employed +on the other side. This is a system well understood by attorneys, and +has been found to be extremely lucrative by gentlemen leading at the +bar.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival was now fifty-five years of age, and was beginning to +show in his face some traces of his hard work. Not that he was +becoming old, or weak, or worn; but his eye had lost its fire—except +the fire peculiar to his profession; and there were wrinkles in his +forehead and cheeks; and his upper lip, except when he was speaking, +hung heavily over the lower; and the loose skin below his eye was +forming into saucers; and his hair had become grizzled; and on his +shoulders, except when in court, there was a slight stoop. As seen in +his wig and gown he was a man of commanding presence,—and for ten +men in London who knew him in this garb, hardly one knew him without +it. He was nearly six feet high, and stood forth prominently, with +square, broad shoulders and a large body. His head also was large; +his forehead was high, and marked strongly by signs of intellect; his +nose was long and straight, his eyes were very gray, and capable to +an extraordinary degree both of direct severity and of concealed +sarcasm. Witnesses have been heard to say that they could endure all +that Mr. Furnival could say to them, and continue in some sort to +answer all his questions, if only he would refrain from looking at +them. But he would never refrain; and therefore it was now well +understood how great a thing it was to secure the services of Mr. +Furnival. "Sir," an attorney would say to an unfortunate client +doubtful as to the expenditure, "your witnesses will not be able to +stand in the box if we allow Mr. Furnival to be engaged on the other +side." I am inclined to think that Mr. Furnival owed to this power of +his eyes his almost unequalled perfection in that peculiar branch of +his profession. His voice was powerful, and not unpleasant when used +within the precincts of a court, though it grated somewhat harshly on +the ears in the smaller compass of a private room. His flow of words +was free and good, and seemed to come from him without the slightest +effort. Such at least was always the case with him when standing +wigged and gowned before a judge. Latterly, however, he had tried his +eloquence on another arena, and not altogether with equal success. He +was now in Parliament, sitting as member for the Essex Marshes, and +he had not as yet carried either the country or the House with him, +although he had been frequently on his legs. Some men said that with +a little practice he would yet become very serviceable as an +honourable and learned member; but others expressed a fear that he +had come too late in life to these new duties.</p> + +<p>I have spoken of Mr. Furnival's great success in that branch of his +profession which required from him the examination of evidence, but I +would not have it thought that he was great only in this, or even +mainly in this. There are gentlemen at the bar, among whom I may +perhaps notice my old friend Mr. Chaffanbrass as the most +conspicuous, who have confined their talents to the browbeating of +witnesses,—greatly to their own profit, and no doubt to the +advantage of society. But I would have it understood that Mr. +Furnival was by no means one of these. He had been no Old Bailey +lawyer, devoting himself to the manumission of murderers, or the +security of the swindling world in general. He had been employed on +abstruse points of law, had been great in will cases, very learned as +to the rights of railways, peculiarly apt in enforcing the dowries of +married women, and successful above all things in separating husbands +and wives whose lives had not been passed in accordance with the +recognised rules of Hymen. Indeed there is no branch of the Common +Law in which he was not regarded as great and powerful, though +perhaps his proficiency in damaging the general characters of his +opponents has been recognised as his especial forte. Under these +circumstances I should grieve to have him confounded with such men as +Mr. Chaffanbrass, who is hardly known by the profession beyond the +precincts of his own peculiar court in the City. Mr. Furnival's +reputation has spread itself wherever stuff gowns and horsehair wigs +are held in estimation.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival when clothed in his forensic habiliments certainly +possessed a solemn and severe dignity which had its weight even with +the judges. Those who scrutinised his appearance critically might +have said that it was in some respects pretentious; but the ordinary +jurymen of this country are not critical scrutinisers of appearance, +and by them he was never held in light estimation. When in his +addresses to them, appealing to their intelligence, education, and +enlightened justice, he would declare that the property of his +clients was perfectly safe in their hands, he looked to be such an +advocate as a litigant would fain possess when dreading the soundness +of his own cause. Any cause was sound to him when once he had been +feed for its support, and he carried in his countenance his assurance +of this soundness,—and the assurance of unsoundness in the cause of +his opponent. Even he did not always win; but on the occasion of his +losing, those of the uninitiated who had heard the pleadings would +express their astonishment that he should not have been successful.</p> + +<p>When he was divested of his wig his appearance was not so perfect. +There was then a hard, long straightness about his head and face, +giving to his countenance the form of a parallelogram, to which there +belonged a certain meanness of expression. He wanted the roundness of +forehead, the short lines, and the graceful curves of face which are +necessary to unadorned manly comeliness. His whiskers were small, +grizzled, and ill grown, and required the ample relief of his wig. In +no guise did he look other than a clever man; but in his dress as a +simple citizen he would perhaps be taken as a clever man in whose +tenderness of heart and cordiality of feeling one would not at first +sight place implicit trust.</p> + +<p>As a poor man Mr. Furnival had done his duty well by his wife and +family,—for as a poor man he had been blessed with four children. +Three of these had died as they were becoming men and women, and now, +as a rich man, he was left with one daughter, an only child. As a +poor man Mr. Furnival had been an excellent husband, going forth in +the morning to his work, struggling through the day, and then +returning to his meagre dinner and his long evenings of unremitting +drudgery. The bodily strength which had supported him through his +work in those days must have been immense, for he had allowed himself +no holidays. And then success and money had come,—and Mrs. Furnival +sometimes found herself not quite so happy as she had been when +watching beside him in the days of their poverty.</p> + +<p>The equal mind,—as mortal Delius was bidden to remember, and as Mr. +Furnival might also have remembered had time been allowed him to +cultivate the classics,—the equal mind should be as sedulously +maintained when things run well, as well as when they run hardly; and +perhaps the maintenance of such equal mind is more difficult in the +former than in the latter stage of life. Be that as it may, Mr. +Furnival could now be very cross on certain domestic occasions, and +could also be very unjust. And there was worse than this,—much worse +behind. He, who in the heyday of his youth would spend night after +night poring over his books, copying out reports, and never asking to +see a female habiliment brighter or more attractive than his wife's +Sunday gown, he, at the age of fifty-five, was now running after +strange goddesses! The member for the Essex Marshes, in these his +latter days, was obtaining for himself among other successes the +character of a Lothario; and Mrs. Furnival, sitting at home in her +genteel drawing-room near Cavendish Square, would remember with +regret the small dingy parlour in Keppel Street.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival in discussing her grievances would attribute them +mainly to port wine. In his early days Mr. Furnival had been +essentially an abstemious man. Young men who work fifteen hours a day +must be so. But now he had a strong opinion about certain Portuguese +vintages, was convinced that there was no port wine in London equal +to the contents of his own bin, saving always a certain green cork +appertaining to his own club, which was to be extracted at the rate +of thirty shillings a cork. And Mrs. Furnival attributed to these +latter studies not only a certain purple hue which was suffusing his +nose and cheeks, but also that unevenness of character and those +supposed domestic improprieties to which allusion has been made. It +may, however, be as well to explain that Mrs. Ball, the old family +cook and housekeeper, who had ascended with the Furnivals in the +world, opined that made-dishes did the mischief. He dined out too +often, and was a deal too particular about his dinner when he dined +at home. If Providence would see fit to visit him with a sharp attack +of the gout, it would—so thought Mrs. Ball—be better for all +parties.</p> + +<p>Whether or no it may have been that Mrs. Furnival at fifty-five—for +she and her lord were of the same age—was not herself as attractive +in her husband's eyes as she had been at thirty, I will not pretend +to say. There can have been no just reason for any such change in +feeling, seeing that the two had grown old together. She, poor woman, +would have been quite content with the attentions of Mr. Furnival, +though his hair was grizzled and his nose was blue; nor did she ever +think of attracting to herself the admiration of any swain whose +general comeliness might be more free from all taint of age. Why then +should he wander afield—at the age of fifty-five? That he did wander +afield, poor Mrs. Furnival felt in her agony convinced; and among +those ladies whom on this account she most thoroughly detested was +our friend Lady Mason of Orley Farm. Lady Mason and the lawyer had +first become acquainted in the days of the trial, now long gone by, +on which occasion Mr. Furnival had been employed as the junior +counsel; and that acquaintance had ripened into friendship, and now +flourished in full vigour,—to Mrs. Furnival's great sorrow and +disturbance.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival herself was a stout, solid woman, sensible on most +points, but better adapted, perhaps, to the life in Keppel Street +than that to which she had now been promoted. As Kitty Blacker she +had possessed feminine charms which would have been famous had they +been better known. Mr. Furnival had fetched her from farther +East—from the region of Great Ormond street and the neighbourhood of +Southampton Buildings. Her cherry cheeks, and her round eye, and her +full bust, and her fresh lip, had conquered the hard-tasked lawyer; +and so they had gone forth to fight the world together. Her eye was +still round, and her cheek red, and her bust full,—there had +certainly been no falling off there; nor will I say that her lip had +lost its freshness. But the bloom of her charms had passed away, and +she was now a solid, stout, motherly woman, not bright in converse, +but by no means deficient in mother-wit, recognizing well the duties +which she owed to others, but recognizing equally well those which +others owed to her. All the charms of her youth—had they not been +given to him, and also all her solicitude, all her anxious fighting +with the hard world? When they had been poor together, had she not +patched and turned and twisted, sitting silently by his side into the +long nights, because she would not ask him for the price of a new +dress? And yet now, now that they were +<span class="nowrap">rich—?</span> Mrs. Furnival, when +she put such questions within her own mind, could hardly answer this +latter one with patience. Others might be afraid of the great Mr. +Furnival in his wig and gown; others might be struck dumb by his +power of eye and mouth; but she, she, the wife of his bosom, she +could catch him without his armour. She would so catch him and let +him know what she thought of all her wrongs. So she said to herself +many a day, and yet the great deed, in all its explosiveness, had +never yet been done. Small attacks of words there had been many, but +hitherto the courage to speak out her griefs openly had been wanting +to her.</p> + +<p>I can now allow myself but a small space to say a few words of Sophia +Furnival, and yet in that small space must be confined all the direct +description which can be given of one of the principal personages of +this story. At nineteen Miss Furnival was in all respects a young +woman. She was forward in acquirements, in manner, in general +intelligence, and in powers of conversation. She was a handsome, tall +girl, with expressive gray eyes and dark-brown hair. Her mouth, and +hair, and a certain motion of her neck and turn of her head, had come +to her from her mother, but her eyes were those of her father: they +were less sharp perhaps, less eager after their prey; but they were +bright as his had been bright, and sometimes had in them more of +absolute command than he was ever able to throw into his own.</p> + +<p>Their golden days had come on them at a period of her life which +enabled her to make a better use of them than her mother could do. +She never felt herself to be struck dumb by rank or fashion, nor did +she in the drawing-rooms of the great ever show signs of an Eastern +origin. She could adapt herself without an effort to the manners of +Cavendish Square;—ay, and if need were, to the ways of more glorious +squares even than that. Therefore was her father never ashamed to be +seen with her on his arm in the houses of his new friends, though on +such occasions he was willing enough to go out without disturbing the +repose of his wife. No mother could have loved her children with a +warmer affection than that which had warmed the heart of poor Mrs. +Furnival; but under such circumstances as these was it singular that +she should occasionally become jealous of her own daughter?</p> + +<p>Sophia Furnival was, as I have said, a clever, attractive girl, +handsome, well-read, able to hold her own with the old as well as +with the young, capable of hiding her vanity if she had any, mild and +gentle to girls less gifted, animated in conversation, and yet +possessing an eye that could fall softly to the ground, as a woman's +eye always should fall upon occasions.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless she was not altogether charming. "I don't feel quite +sure that she is real," Mrs. Orme had said of her, when on a certain +occasion Miss Furnival had spent a day and a night at The Cleeve.</p> + + +<p><a name="c11" id="c11"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> +<h3>MRS. FURNIVAL AT HOME.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lucius Mason on his road to Liverpool had passed through London, and +had found a moment to call in Harley Street. Since his return from +Germany he had met Miss Furnival both at home at his mother's +house—or rather his own—and at The Cleeve. Miss Furnival had been +in the neighbourhood, and had spent two days with the great people at +The Cleeve, and one day with the little people at Orley Farm. Lucius +Mason had found that she was a sensible girl, capable of discussing +great subjects with him; and had possibly found some other charms in +her. Therefore he had called in Harley Street.</p> + +<p>On that occasion he could only call as he passed through London +without delay; but he received such encouragement as induced him to +spend a night in town on his return, in order that he might accept an +invitation to drink tea with the Furnivals. "We shall be very happy +to see you," Mrs. Furnival had said, backing the proposition which +had come from her daughter without any very great fervour; "but I +fear Mr. Furnival will not be at home. Mr. Furnival very seldom is at +home now." Young Mason did not much care for fervour on the part of +Sophia's mother, and therefore had accepted the invitation, though he +was obliged by so doing to curtail by some hours his sojourn among +the guano stores of Liverpool.</p> + +<p>It was the time of year at which few people are at home in London, +being the middle of October; but Mrs. Furnival was a lady of whom at +such periods it was not very easy to dispose. She could have made +herself as happy as a queen even at Margate, if it could have suited +Furnival and Sophia to be happy at Margate with her. But this did not +suit Furnival or Sophia. As regards money, any or almost all other +autumnal resorts were open to her, but she could be contented at none +of them because Mr. Furnival always pleaded that business—law +business or political business—took him elsewhere. Now Mrs. Furnival +was a woman who did not like to be deserted, and who could not, in +the absence of those social joys which Providence had vouchsafed to +her as her own, make herself happy with the society of other women +such as herself. Furnival was her husband, and she wanted him to +carve for her, to sit opposite to her at the breakfast table, to tell +her the news of the day, and to walk to church with her on Sundays. +They had been made one flesh and one bone, for better and worse, +thirty years since; and now in her latter days she could not put up +with disseveration and dislocation.</p> + +<p>She had gone down to Brighton in August, soon after the House broke +up, and there found that very handsome apartments had been taken for +her—rooms that would have made glad the heart of many a lawyer's +wife. She had, too, the command of a fly, done up to look like a +private brougham, a servant in livery, the run of the public +assembly-rooms, a sitting in the centre of the most fashionable +church in Brighton—all that the heart of woman could desire. All but +the one thing was there; but, that one thing being absent, she came +moodily back to town at the end of September. She would have +exchanged them all with a happy heart for very moderate accommodation +at Margate, could she have seen Mr. Furnival's blue nose on the other +side of the table every morning and evening as she sat over her +shrimps and tea.</p> + +<p>Men who had risen in the world as Mr. Furnival had done do find it +sometimes difficult to dispose of their wives. It is not that the +ladies are in themselves more unfit for rising than their lords, or +that if occasion demanded they would not as readily adapt themselves +to new spheres. But they do not rise, and occasion does not demand +it. A man elevates his wife to his own rank, and when Mr. Brown, on +becoming solicitor-general, becomes Sir Jacob, Mrs. Brown also +becomes my lady. But the whole set among whom Brown must be more or +less thrown do not want her ladyship. On Brown's promotion she did +not become part of the bargain. Brown must henceforth have two +existences—a public and a private existence; and it will be well for +Lady Brown, and well also for Sir Jacob, if the latter be not allowed +to dwindle down to a minimum.</p> + +<p>If Lady B. can raise herself also, if she can make her own +occasion—if she be handsome and can flirt, if she be impudent and +can force her way, if she have a daring mind and can commit great +expenditure, if she be clever and can make poetry, if she can in any +way create a separate glory for herself, then, indeed, Sir Jacob with +his blue nose may follow his own path, and all will be well. Sir +Jacob's blue nose seated opposite to her will not be her summum +bonum.</p> + +<p>But worthy Mrs. Furnival—and she was worthy—had created for herself +no such separate glory, nor did she dream of creating it; and +therefore she had, as it were, no footing left to her. On this +occasion she had gone to Brighton, and had returned from it sulky and +wretched, bringing her daughter back to London at the period of +London's greatest desolation. Sophia had returned uncomplaining, +remembering that good things were in store for her. She had been +asked to spend her Christmas with the Staveleys at Noningsby—the +family of Judge Staveley, who lives near Alston, at a very pretty +country place so called. Mr. Furnival had been for many years +acquainted with Judge Staveley,—had known the judge when he was a +leading counsel; and now that Mr. Furnival was a rising man, and now +that he had a pretty daughter, it was natural that the young +Staveleys and Sophia Furnival should know each other. But poor Mrs. +Furnival was too ponderous for this mounting late in life, and she +had not been asked to Noningsby. She was much too good a mother to +repine at her daughter's promised gaiety. Sophia was welcome to go; +but by all the laws of God and man it would behove her lord and +husband to eat his mincepie at home.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival was to be back in town this evening," the lady said, as +though apologizing to young Mason for her husband's absence, when he +entered the drawing-room, "but he has not come, and I dare say will +not come now."</p> + +<p>Mason did not care a straw for Mr. Furnival. "Oh! won't he?" said he. +"I suppose business keeps him."</p> + +<p>"Papa is very busy about politics just at present," said Sophia, +wishing to make matters smooth in her mother's mind. "He was obliged +to be at Romford in the beginning of the week, and then he went down +to Birmingham. There is some congress going on there, is there not?"</p> + +<p>"All that must take a great deal of time," said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and it is a terrible bore," said Sophia. "I know papa finds it +so."</p> + +<p>"Your papa likes it, I believe," said Mrs. Furnival, who would not +hide even her grievances under a bushel.</p> + +<p>"I don't think he likes being so much from home, mamma. Of course he +likes excitement, and success. All men do. Do they not, Mr. Mason?"</p> + +<p>"They all ought to do so, and women also."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but women have no sphere, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"They have minds equal to those of men," said Lucius, gallantly, "and +ought to be able to make for themselves careers as brilliant."</p> + +<p>"Women ought not to have any spheres," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I quite agree with you there, mamma."</p> + +<p>"The world is becoming a great deal too fond of what you call +excitement and success. Of course it is a good thing for a man to +make money by his profession, and a very hard thing when he can't do +it," added Mrs. Furnival, thinking of the olden days. "But if success +in life means rampaging about, and never knowing what it is to sit +quiet over his own fireside, I for one would as soon manage to do +without it."</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I don't see why success should always be rampageous."</p> + +<p>"Literary women who have achieved a name bear their honours quietly," +said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mrs. Furnival. "I am told that some of them are +as fond of gadding as the men. As regards the old maids, I don't care +so much about it; people who are not married may do what they like +with themselves, and nobody has anything to say to them. But it is +very different for married people. They have no business to be +enticed away from their homes by any success."</p> + +<p>"Mamma is all for a Darby and Joan life," said Sophia, laughing.</p> + +<p>"No I am not, my dear; and you should not say so. I don't advocate +anything that is absurd. But I do say that life should be lived at +home. That is the best part of it. What is the meaning of home if it +isn't that?"</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Furnival! she had no idea that she was complaining to a +stranger of her husband. Had any one told her so she would have +declared that she was discussing world-wide topics; but Lucius Mason, +young as he was, knew that the marital shoe was pinching the lady's +domestic corn, and he made haste to change the subject.</p> + +<p>"You know my mother, Mrs. Furnival?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival said that she had the honour of acquaintance with Lady +Mason; but on this occasion also she exhibited but little fervour.</p> + +<p>"I shall meet her up in town to-morrow," said Lucius. "She is coming +up for some shopping."</p> + +<p>"Oh! indeed," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"And then we go down home together. I am to meet her at the chymist's +at the top of Chancery Lane."</p> + +<p>Now this was a very unnecessary communication on the part of young +Mason, and also an unfortunate one. "Oh! indeed," said Mrs. Furnival +again, throwing her head a little back. Poor woman! she could not +conceal what was in her mind, and her daughter knew all about it +immediately. The truth was this. Mr. Furnival had been for some days +on the move, at Birmingham and elsewhere, and had now sent up sudden +notice that he should probably be at home that very night. He should +probably be at home that night, but in such case would be compelled +to return to his friends at Birmingham on the following afternoon. +Now if it were an ascertained fact that he was coming to London +merely with the view of meeting Lady Mason, the wife of his bosom +would not think it necessary to provide for him the warmest welcome. +This of course was not an ascertained fact; but were there not +terrible grounds of suspicion? Mr. Furnival's law chambers were in +Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, close to Chancery Lane, and Lady Mason had +made her appointment with her son within five minutes' walk of that +locality. And was it not in itself a strange coincidence that Lady +Mason, who came to town so seldom, should now do so on the very day +of Mr. Furnival's sudden return? She felt sure that they were to meet +on the morrow, but yet she could not declare even to herself that it +was an ascertained fact.</p> + +<p>"Oh! indeed," she said; and Sophia understood all about it, though +Lucius did not.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Furnival sank into silence; and we need not follow, word +for word, the conversation between the young lady and the young +gentleman. Mr. Mason thought that Miss Furnival was a very nice girl, +and was not at all ill pleased to have an opportunity of passing an +evening in her company; and Miss Furnival +<span class="nowrap">thought—.</span> What she +thought, or what young ladies may think generally about young +gentlemen, is not to be spoken openly; but it seemed as though she +also were employed to her own satisfaction, while her mother sat +moody in her own arm-chair. In the course of the evening the footman +in livery brought in tea, handing it round on a big silver salver, +which also added to Mrs. Furnival's unhappiness. She would have liked +to sit behind her tea-tray as she used to do in the good old +hard-working days, with a small pile of buttered toast on the +slop-bowl, kept warm by hot water below. In those dear old +hard-working days, buttered toast had been a much-loved delicacy with +Furnival; and she, kind woman, had never begrudged her eyes, as she +sat making it for him over the parlour fire. Nor would she have +begrudged them now, neither her eyes nor the work of her hands, nor +all the thoughts of her heart, if he would have consented to accept +of her handiwork; but in these days Mr. Furnival had learned a relish +for other delicacies.</p> + +<p>She also had liked buttered toast, always, however, taking the pieces +with the upper crust, in order that the more luscious morsels might +be left for him; and she had liked to prepare her own tea leisurely, +putting in slowly the sugar and cream—skimmed milk it had used to +be, dropped for herself with a sparing hand, in order that his large +breakfast-cup might be whitened to his liking; but though the milk +had been skimmed and scanty, and though the tea itself had been put +in with a sparing hand, she had then been mistress of the occasion. +She had had her own way, and in stinting herself had found her own +reward. But now—the tea had no flavour now that it was made in the +kitchen and brought to her, cold and vapid, by a man in livery whom +she half feared to keep waiting while she ministered to her own +wants.</p> + +<p>And so she sat moody in her arm-chair, cross and sulky, as her +daughter thought. But yet there was a vein of poetry in her heart, as +she sat there, little like a sibyl as she looked. Dear old days, in +which her cares and solicitude were valued; in which she could do +something for the joint benefit of the firm into which she had been +taken as a partner! How happy she had been in her struggles, how +piteously had her heart yearned towards him when she thought that he +was struggling too fiercely, how brave and constant he had been; and +how she had loved him as he sat steady as a rock at his grinding +work! Now had come the great success of which they had both dreamed +together, of which they had talked as arm in arm they were taking the +exercise that was so needful to him, walking quickly round Russell +Square, quickly round Bloomsbury Square and Bedford Square, and so +back to the grinding work in Keppel Street. It had come now—all of +which they had dreamed, and more than all they had dared to hope. But +of what good was it? Was he happy? No; he was fretful, bilious, and +worn with toil which was hard to him because he ate and drank too +much; he was ill at ease in public, only half understanding the +political life which he was obliged to assume in his new ambition; +and he was sick in his conscience—she was sure that must be so: he +could not thus neglect her, his loving, constant wife, without some +pangs of remorse. And was she happy? She might have revelled in silks +and satins, if silks and satins would have done her old heart good. +But they would do her no good. How she had joyed in a new dress when +it had been so hard to come by, so slow in coming, and when he would +go with her to the choosing of it! But her gowns now were hardly of +more interest to her than the joints of meat which the butcher +brought to the door with the utmost regularity. It behoved the +butcher to send good beef and the milliner to send good silk, and +there was an end of it.</p> + +<p>Not but what she could have been ecstatic about a full skirt on a +smart body if he would have cared to look at it. In truth she was +still soft and young enough within, though stout, and solid, and +somewhat aged without. Though she looked cross and surly that night, +there was soft poetry within her heart. If Providence, who had +bountifully given, would now by chance mercifully take away those +gifts, would she not then forgive everything and toil for him again +with the same happiness as before? Ah! yes; she could forgive +everything, anything, if he would only return and be contented to sit +opposite to her once again. "O mortal Delius, dearest lord and +husband!" she exclaimed within her own breast, in language somewhat +differing from that of the Roman poet, "why hast thou not remembered +to maintain a mind equal in prosperity as it was always equal and +well poised in adversity? Oh my Delius, since prosperity has been too +much for thee, may the Lord bless thee once more with the adversity +which thou canst bear—which thou canst bear, and I with thee!" Thus +did she sing sadly within her own bosom,—sadly, but with true poetic +cadence; while Sophia and Lucius Mason, sitting by, when for a moment +they turned their eyes upon her, gave her credit only for the cross +solemnity supposed to be incidental to obese and declining years.</p> + +<p>And then there came a ring at the bell and a knock at the door, and a +rush along the nether passages, and the lady knew that he of whom she +had been thinking had arrived. In olden days she had ever met him in +the narrow passage, and, indifferent to the maid, she had hung about +his neck and kissed him in the hall. But now she did not stir from +the chair. She could forgive him all and run again at the sound of +his footstep, but she must first know that such forgiveness and such +running would be welcome.</p> + +<p>"That's papa," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget that I have not met him since I have been home from +Germany," said Lucius. "You must introduce me."</p> + +<p>In a minute or two Mr. Furnival opened the door and walked into the +room. Men when they arrive from their travels now-a-days have no +strippings of greatcoats, no deposits to make of thick shawls and +double gloves, no absolutely necessary changes of raiment. Such had +been the case when he had used to come back cold and weary from the +circuits; but now he had left Birmingham since dinner by the late +express, and enjoyed his nap in the train for two hours or so, and +walked into his own drawing-room as he might have done had he dined +in his own dining-room.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Kitty?" he said to his wife, handing to her the +forefinger of his right hand by way of greeting. "Well, Sophy, my +love;" and he kissed his daughter. "Oh! Lucius Mason. I am very glad +to see you. I can't say I should have remembered you unless I had +been told. You are very welcome in Harley Street, and I hope you will +often be here."</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill11" id="ill11"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill11a.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill11a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Mr. Furnival's welcome home." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Mr. Furnival's welcome home.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill11a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"It's not very often he'd find you at home, Mr. Furnival," said the +aggrieved wife.</p> + +<p>"Not so often as I could wish just at present; but things will be +more settled, I hope, before very long. How's your mother, Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"She's pretty well, thank you, sir. I've to meet her in town +to-morrow, and go down home with her."</p> + +<p>There was then silence in the room for a few seconds, during which +Mrs. Furnival looked very sharply at her husband. "Oh! she's to be in +town, is she?" said Mr. Furnival, after a moment's consideration. He +was angry with Lady Mason at the moment for having put him into this +position. Why had she told her son that she was to be up in London, +thus producing conversation and tittle-tattle which made deceit on +his part absolutely necessary? Lady Mason's business in London was of +a nature which would not bear much open talking. She herself, in her +earnest letter summoning Mr. Furnival up from Birmingham, had +besought him that her visit to his chambers might not be made matter +of discussion. New troubles might be coming on her, but also they +might not; and she was very anxious that no one should know that she +was seeking a lawyer's advice on the matter. To all this Mr. Furnival +had given in his adhesion; and yet she had put it into her son's +power to come to his drawing-room and chatter there of her +whereabouts. For a moment or two he doubted; but at the expiration of +those moments he saw that the deceit was necessary. "She's to be in +town, is she?" said he. The reader will of course observe that this +deceit was practised, not as between husband and wife with reference +to an assignation with a lady, but between the lawyer and the outer +world with reference to a private meeting with a client. But then it +is sometimes so difficult to make wives look at such matters in the +right light.</p> + +<p>"She's coming up for some shopping," said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"Oh! indeed," said Mrs. Furnival. She would not have spoken if she +could have helped it, but she could not help it; and then there was +silence in the room for a minute or two, which Lucius vainly +endeavoured to break by a few indifferent observations to Miss +Furnival. The words, however, which he uttered would not take the +guise of indifferent observations, but fell flatly on their ears, and +at the same time solemnly, as though spoken with the sole purpose of +creating sound.</p> + +<p>"I hope you have been enjoying yourself at Birmingham," said Mrs. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Enjoyed myself! I did not exactly go there for enjoyment."</p> + +<p>"Or at Romford, where you were before?"</p> + +<p>"Women seem to think that men have no purpose but amusement when they +go about their daily work," said Mr. Furnival; and then he threw +himself back in his arm-chair, and took up the last Quarterly.</p> + +<p>Lucius Mason soon perceived that all the harmony of the evening had +in some way been marred by the return of the master of the house, and +that he might be in the way if he remained; he therefore took his +leave.</p> + +<p>"I shall want breakfast punctually at half-past eight to-morrow +morning," said Mr. Furnival, as soon as the stranger had withdrawn. +"I must be in chambers before ten;" and then he took his candle and +withdrew to his own room.</p> + +<p>Sophia rang the bell and gave the servant the order; but Mrs. +Furnival took no trouble in the matter whatever. In the olden days +she would have bustled down before she went to bed, and have seen +herself that everything was ready, so that the master of the house +might not be kept waiting. But all this was nothing to her now.</p> + + +<p><a name="c12" id="c12"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> +<h3>MR. FURNIVAL'S CHAMBERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mr. Furnival's chambers were on the first floor in a very dingy +edifice in Old Square, Lincoln's Inn. This square was always dingy, +even when it was comparatively open and served as the approach from +Chancery Lane to the Lord Chancellor's Court; but now it has been +built up with new shops for the Vice-Chancellor, and to my eyes it +seems more dingy than ever.</p> + +<p>He there occupied three rooms, all of them sufficiently spacious for +the purposes required, but which were made oppressive by their +general dinginess and by a smell of old leather which pervaded them. +In one of them sat at his desk Mr. Crabwitz, a gentleman who had now +been with Mr. Furnival for the last fifteen years, and who considered +that no inconsiderable portion of the barrister's success had been +attributable to his own energy and genius. Mr. Crabwitz was a +genteel-looking man, somewhat over forty years of age, very careful +as to his gloves, hat, and umbrella, and not a little particular as +to his associates. As he was unmarried, fond of ladies' society, and +presumed to be a warm man in money matters, he had his social +successes, and looked down from a considerable altitude on some men +who from their professional rank might have been considered as his +superiors. He had a small bachelor's box down at Barnes, and not +unfrequently went abroad in the vacations. The door opening into the +room of Mr. Crabwitz was in the corner fronting you on the left-hand +side as you entered the chambers. Immediately on your left was a +large waiting-room, in which an additional clerk usually sat at an +ordinary table. He was not an authorised part of the establishment, +being kept only from week to week; but nevertheless, for the last two +or three years he had been always there, and Mr. Crabwitz intended +that he should remain, for he acted as fag to Mr. Crabwitz. This +waiting-room was very dingy, much more so than the clerk's room, and +boasted of no furniture but eight old leathern chairs and two old +tables. It was surrounded by shelves which were laden with books and +dust, which by no chance were ever disturbed. But to my ideas the +most dingy of the three rooms was that large one in which the great +man himself sat; the door of which directly fronted you as you +entered. The furniture was probably better than that in the other +chambers, and the place had certainly the appearance of warmth and +life which comes from frequent use; but nevertheless, of all the +rooms in which I ever sat I think it was the most gloomy. There were +heavy curtains to the windows, which had once been ruby but were now +brown; and the ceiling was brown, and the thick carpet was brown, and +the books which covered every portion of the wall were brown, and the +painted wood-work of the doors and windows was of a dark brown. Here, +on the morning with which we have now to deal, sat Mr. Furnival over +his papers from ten to twelve, at which latter hour Lady Mason was to +come to him. The holidays of Mr. Crabwitz had this year been cut +short in consequence of his patron's attendance at the great congress +which was now sitting, and although all London was a desert, as he +had piteously complained to a lady of his acquaintance whom he had +left at Boulogne, he was there in the midst of the desert, and on +this morning was sitting in attendance at his usual desk.</p> + +<p>Why Mr. Furnival should have breakfasted by himself at half-past +eight in order that he might be at his chambers at ten, seeing that +the engagement for which he had come to town was timed for twelve, I +will not pretend to say. He did not ask his wife to join him, and +consequently she did not come down till her usual time. Mr. Furnival +breakfasted by himself, and at ten o'clock he was in his chambers. +Though alone for two hours he was not idle, and exactly at twelve Mr. +Crabwitz opened his door and announced Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>When we last parted with her after her interview with Sir Peregrine +Orme, she had resolved not to communicate with her friend the +lawyer,—at any rate not to do so immediately. Thinking on that +resolve she had tried to sleep that night; but her mind was +altogether disturbed, and she could get no rest. What, if after +twenty years of tranquillity all her troubles must now be +recommenced? What if the battle were again to be fought,—with such +termination as the chances might send to her? Why was it that she was +so much greater a coward now than she had been then? Then she had +expected defeat, for her friends had bade her not to be sanguine; but +in spite of that she had borne up and gone gallantly through the +ordeal. But now she felt that if Orley Farm were hers to give she +would sooner abandon it than renew the contest. Then, at that former +period of her life, she had prepared her mind to do or die in the +cause. She had wrought herself up for the work, and had carried it +through. But having done that work, having accomplished her terrible +task, she had hoped that rest might be in store for her.</p> + +<p>As she rose from her bed on the morning after her interview with Sir +Peregrine, she determined that she would seek counsel from him in +whose counsel she could trust. Sir Peregrine's friendship was more +valuable to her than that of Mr. Furnival, but a word of advice from +Mr. Furnival was worth all the spoken wisdom of the baronet, ten +times over. Therefore she wrote her letter, and proposed an +appointment; and Mr. Furnival, tempted as I have said by some evil +spirit to stray after strange goddesses in these his blue-nosed days, +had left his learned brethren at their congress in Birmingham, and +had hurried up to town to assist the widow. He had left that +congress, though the wisest Rustums of the law from all the civilised +countries of Europe were there assembled, with Boanerges at their +head, that great, old, valiant, learned, British Rustum, inquiring +with energy, solemnity, and caution, with much shaking of ponderous +heads and many sarcasms from those which were not ponderous, whether +any and what changes might be made in the modes of answering that +great question, "Guilty or not guilty?" and that other equally great +question, "Is it meum or is it tuum?" To answer which question justly +should be the end and object of every lawyer's work. There were great +men there from Paris, very capable, the Ulpians, Tribonians, and +Papinians of the new empire, armed with the purest sentiments +expressed in antithetical and magniloquent phrases, ravishing to the +ears, and armed also with a code which, taken in its integrity, would +necessarily, as the logical consequence of its clauses, drive all +injustice from the face of the earth. And there were great +practitioners from Germany, men very skilled in the use of questions, +who profess that the tongue of man, if adequately skilful, may always +prevail on guilt to disclose itself; who believe in the power of +their own craft to produce truth, as our forefathers believed in +torture; and sometimes with the same result. And of course all that +was great on the British bench, and all that was famous at the +British bar was there,—men very unlike their German brethren, men +who thought that guilt never should be asked to tell of itself,—men +who were customarily but unconsciously shocked whenever unwary guilt +did tell of itself. Men these were, mostly of high and noble feeling, +born and bred to live with upright hearts and clean hands, but taught +by the peculiar tenets of their profession to think that that which +was high and noble in their private intercourse with the world need +not also be so esteemed in their legal practice. And there were +Italians there, good-humoured, joking, easy fellows, who would laugh +their clients in and out of their difficulties; and Spaniards, very +grave and serious, who doubted much in their minds whether justice +might not best be bought and sold; and our brethren from the United +States were present also, very eager to show that in this country +law, and justice also, were clouded and nearly buried beneath their +wig and gown.</p> + +<p>All these and all this did Mr. Furnival desert for the space of +twenty-four hours in order that he might comply with the request of +Lady Mason. Had she known what it was that she was calling on him to +leave, no doubt she would have borne her troubles for another +week,—for another fortnight, till those Rustums at Birmingham had +brought their labours to a close. She would not have robbed the +English bar of one of the warmest supporters of its present mode of +practice, even for a day, had she known how much that support was +needed at the present moment. But she had not known; and Mr. +Furnival, moved by her woman's plea, had not been hard enough in his +heart to refuse her.</p> + +<p>When she entered the room she was dressed very plainly as was her +custom, and a thick veil covered her face; but still she was dressed +with care. There was nothing of the dowdiness of the lone lorn woman +about her, none of that lanky, washed-out appearance which sorrow and +trouble so often give to females. Had she given way to dowdiness, or +suffered herself to be, as it were, washed out, Mr. Furnival, we may +say, would not have been there to meet her;—of which fact Lady Mason +was perhaps aware.</p> + +<p>"I am so grateful to you for this trouble," she said, as she raised +her veil, and while he pressed her hand between both his own. "I can +only ask you to believe that I would not have troubled you unless I +had been greatly troubled myself."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival, as he placed her in an arm-chair by the fireside, +declared his sorrow that she should be in grief, and then he took the +other arm-chair himself, opposite to her, or rather close to +her,—much closer to her than he ever now seated himself to Mrs. F. +"Don't speak of my trouble," said he, "it is nothing if I can do +anything to relieve you." But though he was so tender, he did not +omit to tell her of her folly in having informed her son that she was +to be in London. "And have you seen him?" asked Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"He was in Harley Street with the ladies last night. But it does not +matter. It is only for your sake that I speak, as I know that you +wish to keep this matter private. And now let us hear what it is. I +cannot think that there can be anything which need really cause you +trouble." And he again took her hand,—that he might encourage her. +Lady Mason let him keep her hand for a minute or so, as though she +did not notice it; and yet as she turned her eyes to him it might +appear that his tenderness had encouraged her.</p> + +<p>Sitting there thus, with her hand in his,—with her hand in his +during the first portion of the tale,—she told him all that she +wished to tell. Something more she told now to him than she had done +to Sir Peregrine. "I learned from her," she said, speaking about Mrs. +Dockwrath and her husband, "that he had found out something about +dates which the lawyers did not find out before."</p> + +<p>"Something about dates," said Mr. Furnival, looking with all his eyes +into the fire. "You do not know what about dates?"</p> + +<p>"No; only this; that he said that the lawyers in Bedford +<span class="nowrap">Row—"</span></p> + +<p>"Round and Crook."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he said that they were idiots not to have found it out before; +and then he went off to Groby Park. He came back last night; but of +course I have not seen her since."</p> + +<p>By this time Mr. Furnival had dropped the hand, and was sitting +still, meditating, looking earnestly at the fire while Lady Mason was +looking earnestly at him. She was trying to gather from his face +whether he had seen signs of danger, and he was trying to gather from +her words whether there might really be cause to apprehend danger. +How was he to know what was really inside her mind; what were her +actual thoughts and inward reasonings on this subject; what private +knowledge she might have which was still kept back from him? In the +ordinary intercourse of the world when one man seeks advice from +another, he who is consulted demands in the first place that he shall +be put in possession of all the circumstances of the case. How else +will it be possible that he should give advice? But in matters of law +it is different. If I, having committed a crime, were to confess my +criminality to the gentleman engaged to defend me, might he not be +called on to say: "Then, O my friend, confess it also to the judge; +and so let justice be done. Ruat cœlum, and the rest of it?" But +who would pay a lawyer for counsel such as that?</p> + +<p>In this case there was no question of payment. The advice to be given +was to a widowed woman from an experienced man of the world; but, +nevertheless, he could only make his calculations as to her peculiar +case in the way in which he ordinarily calculated. Could it be +possible that anything had been kept back from him? Were there facts +unknown to him, but known to her, which would be terrible, fatal, +damning to his sweet friend if proved before all the world? He could +not bring himself to ask her, but yet it was so material that he +should know! Twenty years ago, at the time of the trial, he had at +one time thought,—it hardly matters to tell what, but those thoughts +had not been favourable to her cause. Then his mind had altered, and +he had learned,—as lawyers do learn,—to believe in his own case. +And when the day of triumph had come, he had triumphed loudly, +commiserating his dear friend for the unjust suffering to which she +had been subjected, and speaking in no low or modified tone as to the +grasping, greedy cruelty of that man of Groby Park. Nevertheless, +through it all, he had felt that Round and Crook had not made the +most of their case.</p> + +<p>And now he sat, thinking, not so much whether or no she had been in +any way guilty with reference to that will, as whether the counsel he +should give her ought in any way to be based on the possibility of +her having been thus guilty. Nothing might be so damning to her cause +as that he should make sure of her innocence, if she were not +innocent; and yet he would not ask her the question. If innocent, why +was it that she was now so much moved, after twenty years of quiet +possession?</p> + +<p>"It was a pity," he said, at last, "that Lucius should have disturbed +that fellow in the possession of his fields."</p> + +<p>"It was; it was!" she said. "But I did not think it possible that +Miriam's husband should turn against me. Would it be wise, do you +think, to let him have the land again?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not think that. It would be telling him, and telling others +also, that you are afraid of him. If he has obtained any information +that may be considered of value by Joseph Mason, he can sell it at a +higher price than the holding of these fields is worth."</p> + +<p>"Would it be well—?" She was asking a question and then checked +herself.</p> + +<p>"Would what be well?"</p> + +<p>"I am so harassed that I hardly know what I am saying. Would it be +wise, do you think, if I were to pay him anything, so as to keep him +quiet?"</p> + +<p>"What; buy him off, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes;—if you call it so. Give him some sum of money in +compensation for his land; and on the understanding, you know—," and +then she paused.</p> + +<p>"That depends on what he may have to sell," said Mr. Furnival, hardly +daring to look at her.</p> + +<p>"Ah; yes," said the widow. And then there was another pause.</p> + +<p>"I do not think that that would be at all discreet," said Mr. +Furnival. "After all, the chances are that it is all moonshine."</p> + +<p>"You think so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I cannot but think so. What can that man possibly have found +among the old attorney's papers that may be injurious to your +interests?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I do not know; I understand so little of these things. At the +time they told me,—you told me that the law might possibly go +against my boy's rights. It would have been bad then, but it would be +ten times more dreadful now."</p> + +<p>"But there were many questions capable of doubt then, which were +definitely settled at the trial. As to your husband's intellect on +that day, for instance."</p> + +<p>"There could be no doubt as to that."</p> + +<p>"No; so it has been proved; and they will not raise that point again. +Could he have possibly have made a later will?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am sure he did not. Had he done so it could not have been +found among Mr. Usbech's papers; for, as far as I remember, the poor +man never attended to any business after that day."</p> + +<p>"What day?"</p> + +<p>"The 14th of July, the day on which he was with Sir Joseph."</p> + +<p>It was singular, thought the barrister, with how much precision she +remembered the dates and circumstances. That the circumstances of the +trial should be fresh on her memory was not wonderful; but how was it +that she knew so accurately things which had occurred before the +trial,—when no trial could have been expected? But as to this he +said nothing.</p> + +<p>"And you are sure he went to Groby Park?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I have no doubt of it. I am quite sure."</p> + +<p>"I do not know that we can do anything but wait. Have you mentioned +this to Sir Peregrine?" It immediately occurred to Lady Mason's mind +that it would be by no means expedient, even if it were possible, to +keep Mr. Furnival in ignorance of anything that she really did; and +therefore explained that she had seen Sir Peregrine. "I was so +troubled at the first moment that I hardly knew where to turn," she +said.</p> + +<p>"You were quite right to go to Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"I am so glad you are not angry with me as to that."</p> + +<p>"And did he say anything—anything particular?"</p> + +<p>"He promised that he would not desert me, should there be any new +difficulty."</p> + +<p>"That is well. It is always good to have the countenance of such a +neighbour as he is."</p> + +<p>"And the advice of such a friend as you are." And she again put out +her hand to him.</p> + +<p>"Well; yes. It is my trade, you know, to give advice," and he smiled +as he took it.</p> + +<p>"How should I live through such troubles without you?"</p> + +<p>"We lawyers are very much abused now-a-days," said Mr. Furnival, +thinking of what was going on down at Birmingham at that very moment; +"but I hardly know how the world would get on without us."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but all lawyers are not like you."</p> + +<p>"Some perhaps worse, and a great many much better. But, as I was +saying, I do not think I would take any steps at present. The man +Dockwrath is a vulgar, low-minded, revengeful fellow; and I would +endeavour to forget him."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if I could!"</p> + +<p>"And why not? What can he possibly have learned to your injury?" And +then as it seemed to Lady Mason that Mr. Furnival expected some reply +to this question, she forced herself to give him one. "I suppose that +he cannot know anything."</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I might do," said Mr. Furnival, who was still +musing. "Round himself is not a bad fellow, and I am acquainted with +him. He was the junior partner in that house at the time of the +trial, and I know that he persuaded Joseph Mason not to appeal to the +Lords. I will contrive, if possible, to see him. I shall be able to +learn from him at any rate whether anything is being done."</p> + +<p>"And then if I hear that there is not, I shall be comforted."</p> + +<p>"Of course; of course."</p> + +<p>"But if there is—"</p> + +<p>"I think there will be nothing of the sort," said Mr. Furnival, +leaving his seat as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"But if there is—I shall have your aid?" and she slowly rose from +her chair as she spoke.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival gave her a promise of this, as Sir Peregrine had done +before; and then with her handkerchief to her eyes she thanked him. +Her tears were not false as Mr. Furnival well saw; and seeing that +she wept, and seeing that she was beautiful, and feeling that in her +grief and in her beauty she had come to him for aid, his heart was +softened towards her, and he put out his arms as though he would take +her to his heart—as a daughter. "Dearest friend," he said, "trust me +that no harm shall come to you."</p> + +<p>"I will trust you," she said, gently stopping the motion of his arm. +"I will trust you, altogether. And when you have seen Mr. Round, +shall I hear from you?"</p> + +<p>At this moment, as they were standing close together, the door +opened, and Mr. Crabwitz introduced another lady—who indeed had +advanced so quickly towards the door of Mr. Furnival's room, that the +clerk had been hardly able to reach it before her.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Furnival, if you please, sir," said Mr. Crabwitz.</p> + + +<p><a name="c13" id="c13"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> +<h3>GUILTY, OR NOT GUILTY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Unfortunately for Mr. Furnival, the intruder was Mrs. +Furnival—whether he pleased or whether he did not please. There she +was in his law chamber, present in the flesh, a sight pleasing +neither to her husband nor to her husband's client. She had knocked +at the outside door, which, in the absence of the fag, had been +opened by Mr. Crabwitz, and had immediately walked across the passage +towards her husband's room, expressing her knowledge that Mr. +Furnival was within. Mr. Crabwitz had all the will in the world to +stop her progress, but he found that he lacked the power to stay it +for a moment.</p> + +<p>The advantages of matrimony are many and great,—so many and so +great, that all men, doubtless, ought to marry. But even matrimony +may have its drawbacks; among which unconcealed and undeserved +jealousy on the part of the wife is perhaps as disagreeable as any. +What is a man to do when he is accused before the world,—before any +small fraction of the world, of making love to some lady of his +acquaintance? What is he to say? What way is he to look? "My love, I +didn't. I never did, and wouldn't think of it for worlds. I say it +with my hand on my heart. There is Mrs. Jones herself, and I appeal +to her." He is reduced to that! But should any innocent man be so +reduced by the wife of his bosom?</p> + +<p>I am speaking of undeserved jealousy, and it may therefore be thought +that my remarks do not apply to Mrs. Furnival. They do apply to her +as much as to any woman. That general idea as to the strange +goddesses was on her part no more than a suspicion: and all women who +so torment themselves and their husbands may plead as much as she +could. And for this peculiar idea as to Lady Mason she had no ground +whatever. Lady Mason may have had her faults, but a propensity to rob +Mrs. Furnival of her husband's affections had not hitherto been one +of them. Mr. Furnival was a clever lawyer, and she had great need of +his assistance; therefore she had come to his chambers, and therefore +she had placed her hand in his. That Mr. Furnival liked his client +because she was good looking may be true. I like my horse, my +picture, the view from my study window for the same reason. I am +inclined to think that there was nothing more in it than that.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" said Mr. Furnival, stepping back a little, and letting his +hands fall to his sides. Lady Mason also took a step backwards, and +then with considerable presence of mind recovered herself and put out +her hand to greet Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Lady Mason?" said Mrs. Furnival, without any presence +of mind at all. "I hope I have the pleasure of seeing you very well. +I did hear that you were to be in town—shopping; but I did not for a +moment expect the—gratification of finding you here." And every word +that the dear, good, heart-sore woman spoke, told the tale of her +jealousy as plainly as though she had flown at Lady Mason's cap with +all the bold demonstrative energy of Spitalfields or St. Giles.</p> + +<p>"I came up on purpose to see Mr. Furnival about some unfortunate law +business," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! Your son Lucius did say—shopping."</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill13" id="ill13"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill13.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill13-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Your son Lucius did say—shopping."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Your son Lucius did say—shopping."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill13.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Yes; I told him so. When a lady is unfortunate enough to be driven +to a lawyer for advice, she does not wish to make it known. I should +be very sorry if my dear boy were to guess that I had this new +trouble; or, indeed, if any one were to know it. I am sure that I +shall be as safe with you, dear Mrs. Furnival, as I am with your +husband." And she stepped up to the angry matron, looking earnestly +into her face.</p> + +<p>To a true tale of woman's sorrow Mrs. Furnival's heart could be as +snow under the noonday sun. Had Lady Mason gone to her and told her +all her fears and all her troubles, sought counsel and aid from her, +and appealed to her motherly feelings, Mrs. Furnival would have been +urgent night and day in persuading her husband to take up the widow's +case. She would have bade him work his very best without fee or +reward, and would herself have shown Lady Mason the way to Old +Square, Lincoln's Inn. She would have been discreet too, speaking no +word of idle gossip to any one. When he, in their happy days, had +told his legal secrets to her, she had never gossiped,—had never +spoken an idle word concerning them. And she would have been constant +to her friend, giving great consolation in the time of trouble, as +one woman can console another. The thought that all this might be so +did come across her for a moment, for there was innocence written in +Lady Mason's eyes. But then she looked at her husband's face; and as +she found no innocence there, her heart was again hardened. The +woman's face could lie;—"the faces of such women are all lies," Mrs. +Furnival said to herself;—but in her presence his face had been +compelled to speak the truth.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no; I shall say nothing of course," she said. "I am quite +sorry that I intruded. Mr. Furnival, as I happened to be in +Holborn—at Mudie's for some books—I thought I would come down and +ask whether you intend to dine at home to-day. You said nothing about +it either last night or this morning; and nowadays one really does +not know how to manage in such matters."</p> + +<p>"I told you that I should return to Birmingham this afternoon; I +shall dine there," said Mr. Furnival, very sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well. I certainly knew that you were going out of town. I +did not at all expect that you would remain at home; but I thought +that you might, perhaps, like to have your dinner before you went. +Good morning, Lady Mason; I hope you may be successful in +your—lawsuit." And then, curtsying to her husband's client, she +prepared to withdraw.</p> + +<p>"I believe that I have said all that I need say, Mr. Furnival," said +Lady Mason; "so that if Mrs. Furnival wishes—," and she also +gathered herself up as though she were ready to leave the room.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what Mrs. Furnival wishes," said the husband.</p> + +<p>"My wishes are nothing," said the wife, "and I really am quite sorry +that I came in." And then she did go, leaving her husband and the +woman of whom she was jealous once more alone together. Upon the +whole I think that Mr. Furnival was right in not going home that day +to his dinner.</p> + +<p>As the door closed somewhat loudly behind the angry lady—Mr. +Crabwitz having rushed out hardly in time to moderate the violence of +the slam—Lady Mason and her imputed lover were left looking at each +other. It was certainly hard upon Lady Mason, and so she felt it. Mr. +Furnival was fifty-five, and endowed with a bluish nose; and she was +over forty, and had lived for twenty years as a widow without +incurring a breath of scandal.</p> + +<p>"I hope I have not been to blame," said Lady Mason in a soft, sad +voice; "but perhaps Mrs. Furnival specially wished to find you +alone."</p> + +<p>"No, no; not at all."</p> + +<p>"I shall be so unhappy if I think that I have been in the way. If +Mrs. Furnival wished to speak to you on business I am not surprised +that she should be angry, for I know that barristers do not usually +allow themselves to be troubled by their clients in their own +chambers."</p> + +<p>"Nor by their wives," Mr. Furnival might have added, but he did not.</p> + +<p>"Do not mind it," he said; "it is nothing. She is the best-tempered +woman in the world; but at times it is impossible to answer even for +the best-tempered."</p> + +<p>"I will trust you to make my peace with her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; she will not think of it after to-day; nor must you, +Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; except that I would not for the world be the cause of +annoyance to my friends. Sometimes I am almost inclined to think that +I will never trouble any one again with my sorrows, but let things +come and go as they may. Were it not for poor Lucius I should do so."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival, looking into her face, perceived that her eyes were +full of tears. There could be no doubt as to their reality. Her eyes +were full of genuine tears, brimming over and running down; and the +lawyer's heart was melted. "I do not know why you should say so," he +said. "I do not think your friends begrudge any little trouble they +may take for you. I am sure at least that I may so say for myself."</p> + +<p>"You are too kind to me; but I do not on that account the less know +how much it is I ask of you."</p> + +<p>"'The labour we delight in physics pain,'" said Mr. Furnival +gallantly. "But, to tell the truth, Lady Mason, I cannot understand +why you should be so much out of heart. I remember well how brave and +constant you were twenty years ago, when there really was cause for +trembling."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I was younger then."</p> + +<p>"So the almanac tells us; but if the almanac did not tell us I should +never know. We are all older, of course. Twenty years does not go by +without leaving its marks, as I can feel myself."</p> + +<p>"Men do not grow old as women do, who live alone and gather rust as +they feed on their own thoughts."</p> + +<p>"I know no one whom time has touched so lightly as yourself, Lady +Mason; but if I may speak to you as a +<span class="nowrap">friend—"</span></p> + +<p>"If you may not, Mr. Furnival, who may?"</p> + +<p>"I should tell you that you are weak to be so despondent, or rather +so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Another lawsuit would kill me, I think. You say that I was brave and +constant before, but you cannot understand what I suffered. I nerved +myself to bear it, telling myself that it was the first duty that I +owed to the babe that was lying on my bosom. And when standing there +in the Court, with that terrible array around me, with the eyes of +all men on me, the eyes of men who thought that I had been guilty of +so terrible a crime, for the sake of that child who was so weak I +could be brave. But it nearly killed me. Mr. Furnival, I could not go +through that again; no, not even for his sake. If you can save me +from that, even though it be by the buying off of that ungrateful +<span class="nowrap">man—"</span></p> + +<p>"You must not think of that."</p> + +<p>"Must I not? ah me!"</p> + +<p>"Will you tell Lucius all this, and let him come to me?"</p> + +<p>"No; not for worlds. He would defy every one, and glory in the fight; +but after all it is I that must bear the brunt. No; he shall not know +it;—unless it becomes so public that he must know it."</p> + +<p>And then, with some further pressing of the hand, and further words +of encouragement which were partly tender as from the man, and partly +forensic as from the lawyer, Mr. Furnival permitted her to go, and +she found her son at the chemist's shop in Holborn as she had +appointed. There were no traces of tears or of sorrow in her face as +she smiled on Lucius while giving him her hand, and then when they +were in a cab together she asked him as to his success at Liverpool.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad that I went," said he, "very glad indeed. I saw the +merchants there who are the real importers of the article, and I have +made arrangements with them."</p> + +<p>"Will it be cheaper so, Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"Cheaper! not what women generally call cheaper. If there be anything +on earth that I hate, it is a bargain. A man who looks for bargains +must be a dupe or a cheat, and is probably both."</p> + +<p>"Both, Lucius. Then he is doubly unfortunate."</p> + +<p>"He is a cheat because he wants things for less than their value; and +a dupe because, as a matter of course, he does not get what he wants. +I made no bargain at Liverpool,—at least, no cheap bargain; but I +have made arrangements for a sufficient supply of a first-rate +unadulterated article at its proper market price, and I do not fear +but the results will be remunerative." And then, as they went home in +the railway carriage the mother talked to her son about his farming +as though she had forgotten her other trouble, and she explained to +him how he was to dine with Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted to dine with Sir Peregrine," said Lucius, "and +very well pleased to have an opportunity of talking to him about his +own way of managing his land; but, mother, I will not promise to be +guided by so very old-fashioned a professor."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival, when he was left alone, sat thinking over the interview +that had passed. At first, as was most natural, he bethought himself +of his wife; and I regret to say that the love which he bore to her, +and the gratitude which he owed to her, and the memory of all that +they had suffered and enjoyed together, did not fill his heart with +thoughts towards her as tender as they should have done. A black +frown came across his brow as he meditated on her late intrusion, and +he made some sort of resolve that that kind of thing should be +prevented for the future. He did not make up his mind how he would +prevent it,—a point which husbands sometimes overlook in their +marital resolutions. And then, instead of counting up her virtues, he +counted up his own. Had he not given her everything; a house such as +she had not dreamed of in her younger days? servants, carriages, +money, comforts, and luxuries of all sorts? He had begrudged her +nothing, had let her have her full share of all his hard-earned +gains; and yet she could be ungrateful for all this, and allow her +head to be filled with whims and fancies as though she were a young +girl,—to his great annoyance and confusion. He would let her know +that his chambers, his law chambers, should be private even from her. +He would not allow himself to become a laughing-stock to his own +clerks and his own brethren through the impertinent folly of a woman +who owed to him everything;—and so on! I regret to say that he never +once thought of those lonely evenings in Harley Street, of those long +days which the poor woman was doomed to pass without the only +companionship which was valuable to her. He never thought of that vow +which they had both made at the altar, which she had kept so loyally, +and which required of him a cherishing, comforting, enduring love. It +never occurred to him that in denying her this he as much broke his +promise to her as though he had taken to himself in very truth some +strange goddess, leaving his wedded wife with a cold ceremony of +alimony or such-like. He had been open-handed to her as regards +money, and therefore she ought not to be troublesome! He had done his +duty by her, and therefore he would not permit her to be troublesome! +Such, I regret to say, were his thoughts and resolutions as he sat +thinking and resolving about Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>And then, by degrees, his mind turned away to that other lady, and +they became much more tender. Lady Mason was certainly both +interesting and comely in her grief. Her colour could still come and +go, her hand was still soft and small, her hair was still brown and +smooth. There were no wrinkles in her brow though care had passed +over it; her step could still fall lightly, though it had borne a +heavy weight of sorrow. I fear that he made a wicked comparison—a +comparison that was wicked although it was made unconsciously.</p> + +<p>But by degrees he ceased to think of the woman and began to think of +the client, as he was in duty bound to do. What was the real truth of +all this? Was it possible that she should be alarmed in that way +because a small country attorney had told his wife that he had found +some old paper, and because the man had then gone off to Yorkshire? +Nothing could be more natural than her anxiety, supposing her to be +aware of some secret which would condemn her if discovered;—but +nothing more unnatural if there were no such secret. And she must +know! In her bosom, if in no other, must exist the knowledge whether +or no that will were just. If that will were just, was it possible +that she should now tremble so violently, seeing that its justice had +been substantially proved in various courts of law? But if it were +not just—if it were a forgery, a forgery made by her, or with her +cognizance—and that now this truth was to be made known! How +terrible would that be! But terrible is not the word which best +describes the idea as it entered Mr. Furnival's mind. How wonderful +would it be; how wonderful would it all have been! By whose hand in +such case had those signatures been traced? Could it be possible that +she, soft, beautiful, graceful as she was now, all but a girl as she +had then been, could have done it, unaided,—by herself?—that she +could have sat down in the still hour of the night, with that old man +on one side and her baby in his cradle on the other, and forged that +will, signatures and all, in such a manner as to have carried her +point for twenty years,—so skilfully as to have baffled lawyers and +jurymen and resisted the eager greed of her cheated kinsman? If so, +was it not all wonderful! Had not she been a woman worthy of wonder!</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Furnival's mind, keen and almost unerring at seizing +legal points, went eagerly to work, considering what new evidence +might now be forthcoming. He remembered at once the circumstances of +those two chief witnesses, the clerk who had been so muddle-headed, +and the servant-girl who had been so clear. They had certainly +witnessed some deed, and they had done so on that special day. If +there had been a fraud, if there had been a forgery, it had been so +clever as almost to merit protection! But if there had been such +fraud, the nature of the means by which it might be detected became +plain to the mind of the barrister,—plainer to him without knowledge +of any circumstances than it had done to Mr. Mason after many of such +circumstances had been explained to him.</p> + +<p>But it was impossible. So said Mr. Furnival to himself, out +loud;—speaking out loud in order that he might convince himself. It +was impossible, he said again; but he did not convince himself. +Should he ask her? No; it was not on the cards that he should do +that. And perhaps, if a further trial were forthcoming, it might be +better for her sake that he should be ignorant. And then, having +declared again that it was impossible, he rang his bell. "Crabwitz," +said he, without looking at the man, "just step over to Bedford Row, +with my compliments, and learn what is Mr. Round's present +address;—old Mr. Round, you know."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crabwitz stood for a moment or two with the door in his hand, and +Mr. Furnival, going back to his own thoughts, was expecting the man's +departure. "Well," he said, looking up and seeing that his myrmidon +still stood there.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crabwitz was not in a very good humour, and had almost made up +his mind to let his master know that such was the case. Looking at +his own general importance in the legal world, and the inestimable +services which he had rendered to Mr. Furnival, he did not think that +that gentleman was treating him well. He had been summoned back to +his dingy chamber almost without an excuse, and now that he was in +London was not permitted to join even for a day the other wise men of +the law who were assembled at the great congress. For the last four +days his heart had been yearning to go to Birmingham, but had yearned +in vain; and now his master was sending him about town as though he +were an errand-lad.</p> + +<p>"Shall I step across to the lodge and send the porter's boy to Round +and Crook's?" asked Mr. Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>"The porter's boy! no; go yourself; you are not busy. Why should I +send the porter's boy on my business?" The fact probably was, that +Mr. Furnival forgot his clerk's age and standing. Crabwitz had been +ready to run anywhere when his employer had first known him, and Mr. +Furnival did not perceive the change.</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir; certainly I will go if you wish it;—on this +occasion that is. But I hope, sir, you will excuse my +<span class="nowrap">saying—"</span></p> + +<p>"Saying what?"</p> + +<p>"That I am not exactly a messenger, sir. Of course I'll go now, as +the other clerk is not in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're too great a man to walk across to Bedford Row, are you? +Give me my hat, and I'll go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Mr. Furnival, I did not mean that. I'll step over to Bedford +Row, of course;—only I did +<span class="nowrap">think—"</span></p> + +<p>"Think what?"</p> + +<p>"That perhaps I was entitled to a little more respect, Mr. Furnival. +It's for your sake as much as my own that I speak, sir; but if the +gentlemen in the Lane see me sent about like a lad of twenty, sir, +they'll <span class="nowrap">think—"</span></p> + +<p>"What will they think?"</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what they'll think, but I know it will be very +disagreeable, sir;—very disagreeable to my feelings. I did think, +sir, that <span class="nowrap">perhaps—"</span></p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what it is, Crabwitz, if your situation here does not +suit you, you may leave it to-morrow. I shall have no difficulty in +finding another man to take your place."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to hear you speak in that way, Mr. Furnival, very +sorry—after fifteen years, +<span class="nowrap">sir—."</span></p> + +<p>"You find yourself too grand to walk to Bedford Row!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I'll go now, of course, Mr. Furnival." And then Mr. Crabwitz +did go, meditating as he went many things to himself. He knew his own +value, or thought that he knew it; and might it not be possible to +find some patron who would appreciate his services more justly than +did Mr. Furnival?</p> + + +<p><a name="c14" id="c14"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> +<h3>DINNER AT THE CLEEVE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Mason on her return from London found a note from Mrs. Orme +asking both her and her son to dine at The Cleeve on the following +day. As it had been already settled between her and Sir Peregrine +that Lucius should dine there in order that he might be talked to +respecting his mania for guano, the invitation could not be refused; +but, as for Lady Mason herself, she would much have preferred to +remain at home.</p> + +<p>Indeed, her uneasiness on that guano matter had been so outweighed by +worse uneasiness from another source, that she had become, if not +indifferent, at any rate tranquil on the subject. It might be well +that Sir Peregrine should preach his sermon, and well that Lucius +should hear it; but for herself it would, she thought, have been more +comfortable for her to eat her dinner alone. She felt, however, that +she could not do so. Any amount of tedium would be better than the +danger of offering a slight to Sir Peregrine, and therefore she wrote +a pretty little note to say that both of them would be at The Cleeve +at seven.</p> + +<p>"Lucius, my dear, I want you to do me a great favour," she said as +she sat by her son in the Hamworth fly.</p> + +<p>"A great favour, mother! of course I will do anything for you that I +can."</p> + +<p>"It is that you will bear with Sir Peregrine to-night."</p> + +<p>"Bear with him! I do not know exactly what you mean. Of course I will +remember that he is an old man, and not answer him as I would one of +my own age."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of that, Lucius, because you are a gentleman. As much +forbearance as that a young man, if he be a gentleman, will always +show to an old man. But what I ask is something more than that. Sir +Peregrine has been farming all his life."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and see what are the results! He has three or four hundred +acres of uncultivated land on his estate, all of which would grow +wheat."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about that," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that's the question. My trade is to be that of a farmer, and +you are sending me to school. Then comes the question, Of what sort +is the schoolmaster?"</p> + +<p>"I am not talking about farming now, Lucius."</p> + +<p>"But he will talk of it."</p> + +<p>"And cannot you listen to him without contradicting him—for my sake? +It is of the greatest consequence to me,—of the very greatest, +Lucius, that I should have the benefit of Sir Peregrine's +friendship."</p> + +<p>"If he would quarrel with you because I chanced to disagree with him +about the management of land, his friendship would not be worth +having."</p> + +<p>"I do not say that he will do so; but I am sure you can understand +that an old man may be tender on such points. At any rate I ask it +from you as a favour. You cannot guess how important it is to me to +be on good terms with such a neighbour."</p> + +<p>"It is always so in England," said Lucius, after pausing for a while. +"Sir Peregrine is a man of family, and a baronet; of course all the +world, the world of Hamworth that is, should bow down at his feet. +And I too must worship the golden image which Nebuchadnezzar, the +King of Fashion, has set up!"</p> + +<p>"Lucius, you are unkind to me."</p> + +<p>"No, mother, not unkind; but like all men, I would fain act in such +matters as my own judgment may direct me."</p> + +<p>"My friendship with Sir Peregrine Orme has nothing to do with his +rank; but it is of importance to me that both you and I should stand +well in his sight." There was nothing more said on the matter; and +then they got down at the front door, and were ushered through the +low wide hall into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>The three generations of the family were there,—Sir Peregrine, his +daughter-in-law, and the heir. Lucius Mason had been at The Cleeve +two or three times since his return from Germany, and on going there +had always declared to himself that it was the same to him as though +he were going into the house of Mrs. Arkwright, the doctor's widow at +Hamworth,—or even into the kitchen of Farmer Greenwood. He rejoiced +to call himself a democrat, and would boast that rank could have no +effect on him. But his boast was an untrue boast, and he could not +carry himself at The Cleeve as he would have done and did in Mrs. +Arkwright's little drawing-room. There was a majesty in the manner of +Sir Peregrine which did awe him; there were tokens of birth and a +certain grace of manner about Mrs. Orme which kept down his +assumption; and even with young Peregrine he found that though he +might be equal he could by no means be more than equal. He had +learned more than Peregrine Orme, had ten times more knowledge in his +head, had read books of which Peregrine did not even know the names +and probably never would know them; but on his side also young Orme +possessed something which the other wanted. What that something might +be Lucius Mason did not at all understand.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme got up from her corner on the sofa to greet her friend, and +with a soft smile and two or three all but whispered words led her +forward to the fire. Mrs. Orme was not a woman given to much speech +or endowed with outward warmth of manners, but she could make her few +words go very far; and then the pressure of her hand, when it was +given, told more than a whole embrace from some other women. There +are ladies who always kiss their female friends, and always call them +"dear." In such cases one cannot but pity her who is so bekissed. +Mrs. Orme did not kiss Lady Mason, nor did she call her dear; but she +smiled sweetly as she uttered her greeting, and looked kindness out +of her marvellously blue eyes; and Lucius Mason, looking on over his +mother's shoulders, thought that he would like to have her for his +friend in spite of her rank. If Mrs. Orme would give him a lecture on +farming it might be possible to listen to it without contradiction; +but there was no chance for him in that respect. Mrs. Orme never gave +lectures to any one on any subject.</p> + +<p>"So, Master Lucius, you have been to Liverpool, I hear," said Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir—I returned yesterday."</p> + +<p>"And what is the world doing at Liverpool?"</p> + +<p>"The world is wide awake there, sir."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no doubt; when the world has to make money it is always wide +awake. But men sometimes may be wide awake and yet make no +money;—may be wide awake, or at any rate think that they are so."</p> + +<p>"Better that, Sir Peregrine, than wilfully go to sleep when there is +so much work to be done."</p> + +<p>"A man when he's asleep does no harm," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"What a comfortable doctrine to think of when the servant comes with +the hot water at eight o'clock in the morning!" said his grandson.</p> + +<p>"It is one that you study very constantly, I fear," said the old man, +who at this time was on excellent terms with his heir. There had been +no apparent hankering after rats since that last compact had been +made, and Peregrine had been doing great things with the H. H.; +winning golden opinions from all sorts of sportsmen, and earning a +great reputation for a certain young mare which had been bred by Sir +Peregrine himself. Foxes are vermin as well as rats, as Perry in his +wickedness had remarked; but a young man who can break an old one's +heart by a predilection for rat-catching may win it as absolutely and +irretrievably by prowess after a fox. Sir Peregrine had told to four +different neighbours how a fox had been run into, in the open, near +Alston, after twelve desperate miles, and how on that occasion +Peregrine had been in at the death with the huntsman and only one +other. "And the mare, you know, is only four years old and hardly +half trained," said Sir Peregrine, with great exultation. "The young +scamp, to have ridden her in that way!" It may be doubted whether he +would have been a prouder man or said more about it if his grandson +had taken honours.</p> + +<p>And then the gong sounded, and, Sir Peregrine led Lady Mason into the +dining-room. Lucius, who as we know thought no more of the Ormes than +of the Joneses and Smiths, paused in his awe before he gave his arm +to Mrs. Orme; and when he did so he led her away in perfect silence, +though he would have given anything to be able to talk to her as he +went. But he bethought himself that unfortunately he could find +nothing to say. And when he sat down it was not much better. He had +not dined at The Cleeve before, and I am not sure whether the butler +in plain clothes and the two men in livery did not help to create his +confusion,—in spite of his well-digested democratic ideas.</p> + +<p>The conversation during dinner was not very bright. Sir Peregrine +said a few words now and again to Lady Mason, and she replied with a +few others. On subjects which did not absolutely appertain to the +dinner, she perhaps was the greatest talker; but even she did not say +much. Mrs. Orme as a rule never spoke unless she were spoken to in +any company consisting of more than herself and one other; and young +Peregrine seemed to imagine that carving at the top of the table, +asking people if they would take stewed beef, and eating his own +dinner, were occupations quite sufficient for his energies. "Have a +bit more beef, Mason; do. If you will, I will." So far he went in +conversation, but no farther while his work was still before him.</p> + +<p>When the servants were gone it was a little better, but not much. +"Mason, do you mean to hunt this season?" Peregrine asked.</p> + +<p>"No," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Well, I would if I were you. You will never know the fellows about +here unless you do."</p> + +<p>"In the first place I can't afford the time," said Lucius, "and in +the next place I can't afford the money." This was plucky on his +part, and it was felt to be so by everybody in the room; but perhaps +had he spoken all the truth, he would have said also that he was not +accustomed to horsemanship.</p> + +<p>"To a fellow who has a place of his own as you have, it costs +nothing," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, does it not?" said the baronet; "I used to think differently."</p> + +<p>"Well; not so much, I mean, as if you had everything to buy. Besides, +I look upon Mason as a sort of Crœsus. What on earth has he got to +do with his money? And then as to time;—upon my word I don't +understand what a man means when he says he has not got time for +hunting."</p> + +<p>"Lucius intends to be a farmer," said his mother.</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Peregrine. "By Jove, I should think so. If I had two +hundred acres of land in my own hand I should not want anything else +in the world, and would never ask any one for a shilling."</p> + +<p>"If that be so, I might make the best bargain at once that ever a man +made," said the baronet. "If I might take you at your word, Master +<span class="nowrap">Perry—."</span></p> + +<p>"Pray don't talk of it, sir," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"You may be quite sure of this, my dear—that I shall not do more +than talk of it." Then Sir Peregrine asked Lady Mason if she would +take any more wine; after which the ladies withdrew, and the lecture +commenced.</p> + +<p>But we will in the first place accompany the ladies into the +drawing-room for a few minutes. It was hinted in one of the first +chapters of this story that Lady Mason might have become more +intimate than she had done with Mrs. Orme, had she so pleased it; and +by this it will of course be presumed that she had not so pleased. +All this is perfectly true. Mrs. Orme had now been living at The +Cleeve the greater portion of her life, and had never while there +made one really well-loved friend. She had a sister of her own, and +dear old friends of her childhood, who lived far away from her in the +northern counties. Occasionally she did see them, and was then very +happy; but this was not frequent with her. Her sister, who was +married to a peer, might stay at The Cleeve for a fortnight, perhaps +once in the year; but Mrs. Orme herself seldom left her own home. She +thought, and certainly not without cause, that Sir Peregrine was not +happy in her absence, and therefore she never left him. Then, living +there so much alone, was it not natural that her heart should desire +a friend?</p> + +<p>But Lady Mason had been living much more alone. She had no sister to +come to her, even though it were but once a year. She had no intimate +female friend, none to whom she could really speak with the full +freedom of friendship, and it would have been delightful to have +bound to her by ties of love so sweet a creature as Mrs. Orme, a +widow like herself,—and like herself a widow with one only son. But +she, warily picking her steps through life, had learned the necessity +of being cautious in all things. The countenance of Sir Peregrine had +been invaluable to her, and might it not be possible that she should +lose that countenance? A word or two spoken now and then again, a +look not intended to be noticed, an altered tone, or perhaps a change +in the pressure of the old man's hand, had taught Lady Mason to think +that he might disapprove such intimacy. Probably at the moment she +was right, for she was quick at reading such small signs. It behoved +her to be very careful, and to indulge in no pleasure which might be +costly; and therefore she had denied herself in this matter,—as in +so many others.</p> + +<p>But now it had occurred to her that it might be well to change her +conduct. Either she felt that Sir Peregrine's friendship for her was +too confirmed to be shaken, or perhaps she fancied that she might +strengthen it by means of his daughter-in-law. At any rate she +resolved to accept the offer which had once been tacitly made to her, +if it were still open to her to do so.</p> + +<p>"How little changed your boy is!" she said, when they were seated +near to each other, with their coffee-cups between them.</p> + +<p>"No; he does not change quickly; and, as you say, he is a boy still +in many things. I do not know whether it may not be better that it +should be so."</p> + +<p>"I did not mean to call him a boy in that sense," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"But you might; now your son is quite a man."</p> + +<p>"Poor Lucius! yes; in his position it is necessary. His little bit of +property is already his own; and then he has no one like Sir +Peregrine to look out for him. Necessity makes him manly."</p> + +<p>"He will be marrying soon, I dare say," suggested Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not. Do you think that early marriages are good for young +men?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. Why not?" said Mrs. Orme, thinking of her own year +of married happiness. "Would you not wish to see Lucius marry?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy not. I should be afraid lest I should become as nothing to +him. And yet I would not have you think that I am selfish."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that you are not that. I am sure that you love him better +than all the world besides. I can feel what that is myself."</p> + +<p>"But you are not alone with your boy as I am. If he were to send me +from him, there would be nothing left for me in this world."</p> + +<p>"Send you from him! Ah, because Orley Farm belongs to him. But he +would not do that; I am sure he would not."</p> + +<p>"He would do nothing unkind; but how could he help it if his wife +wished it? But nevertheless I would not keep him single for that +reason;—no, nor for any reason if I knew that he wished to marry. +But it would be a blow to me."</p> + +<p>"I sincerely trust that Peregrine may marry early," said Mrs. Orme, +perhaps thinking that babies were preferable either to rats or foxes.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it would be well I am sure, because you have ample means, and +the house is large; and you would have his wife to love."</p> + +<p>"If she were nice it would be so sweet to have her for a daughter. I +also am very much alone, though perhaps not so much as you are, Lady +Mason."</p> + +<p>"I hope not—for I am sometimes very lonely."</p> + +<p>"I have often thought that."</p> + +<p>"But I should be wicked beyond everything if I were to complain, +seeing that Providence has given me so much that I had no right to +expect. What should I have done in my loneliness if Sir Peregrine's +hand and door had never been opened to me?" And then for the next +half-hour the two ladies held sweet converse together, during which +we will go back to the gentlemen over their wine.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill14" id="ill14"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill14.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill14-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Over their Wine." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Over their Wine.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill14.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Are you drinking claret?" said Sir Peregrine, arranging himself and +his bottles in the way that was usual to him. He had ever been a +moderate man himself, but nevertheless he had a business-like way of +going to work after dinner, as though there was a good deal to be +done before the drawing-room could be visited.</p> + +<p>"No more wine for me, sir," said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"No wine!" said Sir Peregrine the elder.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mason, you'll never get on if that's the way with you," said +Peregrine the younger.</p> + +<p>"I'll try at any rate," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Water-drinker, moody thinker," and Peregrine sang a word or two from +an old drinking-song.</p> + +<p>"I am not quite sure of that. We Englishmen I suppose are the +moodiest thinkers in all the world, and yet we are not so much given +to water-drinking as our lively neighbours across the Channel."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine said nothing more on the subject, but he probably +thought that his young friend would not be a very comfortable +neighbour. His present task, however, was by no means that of +teaching him to drink, and he struck off at once upon the business he +had undertaken. "So your mother tells me that you are going to devote +all your energies to farming."</p> + +<p>"Hardly that, I hope. There is the land, and I mean to see what I can +do with it. It is not much, and I intend to combine some other +occupation with it."</p> + +<p>"You will find that two hundred acres of land will give you a good +deal to do;—that is if you mean to make money by it."</p> + +<p>"I certainly hope to do that,—in the long run."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me the easiest thing in the world," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"You'll find out your mistake some day; but with Lucius Mason it is +very important that he should make no mistake at the commencement. +For a country gentleman I know no prettier amusement than +experimental farming;—but then a man must give up all idea of making +his rent out of the land."</p> + +<p>"I can't afford that," said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"No; and that is why I take the liberty of speaking to you. I hope +that the great friendship which I feel for your mother will be +allowed to stand as my excuse."</p> + +<p>"I am very much obliged by your kindness, sir; I am indeed."</p> + +<p>"The truth is, I think you are beginning wrong. You have now been to +Liverpool, to buy guano, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that and some few other things. There is a man there who has +taken out a <span class="nowrap">patent—"</span></p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, if you lay out your money in that way, you will +never see it back again. Have you considered in the first place what +your journey to Liverpool has cost you?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly nine and sixpence per cent. on the money that I laid out +there. Now that is not much more than a penny in the pound on the sum +expended, and is not for a moment to be taken into consideration in +comparison with the advantage of an improved market."</p> + +<p>There was more in this than Sir Peregrine had expected to encounter. +He did not for a moment doubt the truth of his own experience or the +folly and the danger of the young man's proceedings; but he did doubt +his own power of proving either the one or the other to one who so +accurately computed his expenses by percentages on his outlay. +Peregrine opened his eyes and sat by, wondering in silence. What on +earth did Mason mean by an improved market?</p> + +<p>"I am afraid then," said the baronet, "that you must have laid out a +large sum of money."</p> + +<p>"A man can't do any good, Sir Peregrine, by hoarding his capital. I +don't think very much of capital +<span class="nowrap">myself—"</span></p> + +<p>"Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Not of the theory of capital;—not so much as some people do; but if +a man has got it, of course it should be expended on the trade to +which it is to be applied."</p> + +<p>"But some little knowledge—some experience is perhaps desirable +before any great outlay is made."</p> + +<p>"Yes; some little knowledge is necessary,—and some great knowledge +would be desirable if it were accessible;—but it is not, as I take +it."</p> + +<p>"Long years, perhaps, devoted to such pursuits—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Peregrine; I know what you are going to say. Experience no +doubt will teach something. A man who has walked thirty miles a day +for thirty years will probably know what sort of shoes will best suit +his feet, and perhaps also the kind of food that will best support +him through such exertion; but there is very little chance of his +inventing any quicker mode of travelling."</p> + +<p>"But he will have earned his wages honestly," said Sir Peregrine, +almost angrily. In his heart he was very angry, for he did not love +to be interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; and if that were sufficient we might all walk our thirty +miles a day. But some of us must earn wages for other people, or the +world will make no progress. Civilization, as I take it, consists in +efforts made not for oneself but for others."</p> + +<p>"If you won't take any more wine we will join the ladies," said the +baronet.</p> + +<p>"He has not taken any at all," said Peregrine, filling his own glass +for the last time and emptying it.</p> + +<p>"That young man is the most conceited puppy it was ever my misfortune +to meet," said Sir Peregrine to Mrs. Orme, when she came to kiss him and +take his blessing as she always did before leaving him for the night.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that," said she, "for I like his mother so much."</p> + +<p>"I also like her," said Sir Peregrine; "but I cannot say that I shall +ever be very fond of her son."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what, mamma," said young Peregrine, the same evening +in his mother's dressing-room. "Lucius Mason was too many for the +governor this evening."</p> + +<p>"I hope he did not tease your grandfather."</p> + +<p>"He talked him down regularly, and it was plain that the governor did +not like it."</p> + +<p>And then the day was over.</p> + + +<p><a name="c15" id="c15"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> +<h3>A MORNING CALL AT MOUNT PLEASANT VILLA.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the following day Lady Mason made two visits, using her new +vehicle for the first time. She would fain have walked had she dared; +but she would have given terrible offence to her son by doing so. He +had explained to her, and with some truth, that as their joint income +was now a thousand a year, she was quite entitled to such a luxury; +and then he went on to say that as he had bought it for her, he +should be much hurt if she would not use it. She had put it off from +day to day, and now she could put it off no longer.</p> + +<p>Her first visit was by appointment at The Cleeve. She had promised +Mrs. Orme that she would come up, some special purpose having been +named;—but with the real idea, at any rate on the part of the +latter, that they might both be more comfortable together than alone. +The walk across from Orley Farm to The Cleeve had always been very +dear to Lady Mason. Every step of it was over beautiful ground, and a +delight in scenery was one of the few pleasures which her lot in life +had permitted her to enjoy. But to-day she could not allow herself +the walk. Her pleasure and delight must be postponed to her son's +wishes! But then she was used to that.</p> + +<p>She found Mrs. Orme alone, and sat with her for an hour. I do not +know that anything was said between them which deserves to be +specially chronicled. Mrs. Orme, though she told her many things, did +not tell her what Sir Peregrine had said as he was going up to his +bedroom on the preceding evening, nor did Lady Mason say much about +her son's farming. She had managed to gather from Lucius that he had +not been deeply impressed by anything that had fallen from Sir +Peregrine on the subject, and therefore thought it as well to hold +her tongue. She soon perceived also, from the fact of Mrs. Orme +saying nothing about Lucius, that he had not left behind him any very +favourable impression. This was to her cause of additional sorrow, +but she knew that it must be borne. Nothing that she could say would +induce Lucius to make himself acceptable to Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>When the hour was over she went down again to her little carriage, +Mrs. Orme coming with her to look at it, and in the hall they met Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Why does not Lady Mason stop for lunch?" said he. "It is past +half-past one. I never knew anything so inhospitable as turning her +out at this moment."</p> + +<p>"I did ask her to stay," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"But I command her to stay," said Sir Peregrine, knocking his stick +upon the stone floor of the hall. "And let me see who will dare to +disobey me. John, let Lady Mason's carriage and pony stand in the +open coach-house till she is ready." So Lady Mason went back and did +remain for lunch. She was painfully anxious to maintain the best +possible footing in that house, but still more anxious not to have it +thought that she was intruding. She had feared that Lucius by his +offence might have estranged Sir Peregrine against herself; but that +at any rate was not the case.</p> + +<p>After lunch she drove herself to Hamworth and made her second visit. +On this occasion she called on one Mrs. Arkwright, who was a very old +acquaintance, though hardly to be called an intimate friend. The late +Mr. Arkwright,—Dr. Arkwright as he used to be styled in +Hamworth,—had been Sir Joseph's medical attendant for many years, +and therefore there had been room for an intimacy. No real +friendship, that is no friendship of confidence, had sprung up; but +nevertheless the doctor's wife had known enough of Lady Mason in her +younger days to justify her in speaking of things which would not +have been mentioned between merely ordinary acquaintance. "I am glad +to see you have got promotion," said the old lady, looking out at +Lady Mason's little phaeton on the gravel sweep which divided Mrs. +Arkwright's house from the street. For Mrs. Arkwright's house was +Mount Pleasant Villa, and therefore was entitled to a sweep.</p> + +<p>"It was a present from Lucius," said the other, "and as such must be +used. But I shall never feel myself at home in my own carriage."</p> + +<p>"It is quite proper, my dear Lady Mason, quite proper. With his +income and with yours I do not wonder that he insists upon it. It is +quite proper, and just at the present moment peculiarly so."</p> + +<p>Lady Mason did not understand this; but she would probably have +passed it by without understanding it, had she not thought that there +was some expression more than ordinary in Mrs. Arkwright's face. "Why +peculiarly so at the present moment?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Because it shows that this foolish report which is going about has +no foundation. People won't believe it for a moment when they see you +out and about, and happy-like."</p> + +<p>"What rumour, Mrs. Arkwright?" And Lady Mason's heart sunk within her +as she asked the question. She felt at once to what it must allude, +though she had conceived no idea as yet that there was any rumour on +the subject. Indeed, during the last forty-eight hours, since she had +left the chambers of Mr. Furnival, she had been more at ease within +herself than during the previous days which had elapsed subsequent to +the ill-omened visit made to her by Miriam Dockwrath. It had seemed +to her that Mr. Furnival anticipated no danger, and his manner and +words had almost given her confidence. But now,—now that a public +rumour was spoken of, her heart was as low again as ever.</p> + +<p>"Sure, haven't you heard?" said Mrs. Arkwright. "Well, I wouldn't be +the first to tell you, only that I know that there is no truth in +it."</p> + +<p>"You might as well tell me now, as I shall be apt to believe worse +than the truth after what you have said."</p> + +<p>And then Mrs. Arkwright told her. "People have been saying that Mr. +Mason is again going to begin those law proceedings about the farm; +but I for one don't believe it."</p> + +<p>"People have said so!" Lady Mason repeated. She meant nothing; it was +nothing to her who the people were. If one said it now, all would +soon be saying it. But she uttered the words because she felt herself +forced to say something, and the power of thinking what she might +best say was almost taken away from her.</p> + +<p>"I am sure I don't know where it came from," said Mrs. Arkwright; +"but I would not have alluded to it if I had not thought that of +course you had heard it. I am very sorry if my saying it has vexed +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Lady Mason, trying to smile.</p> + +<p>"As I said before, we all know that there is nothing in it; and your +having the pony chaise just at this time will make everybody see that +you are quite comfortable yourself."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, yes; good-bye, Mrs. Arkwright." And then she made a great +effort, feeling aware that she was betraying herself, and that it +behoved her to say something which might remove the suspicion which +her emotion must have created. "The very name of that lawsuit is so +dreadful to me that I can hardly bear it. The memory of it is so +terrible to me, that even my enemies would hardly wish that it should +commence again."</p> + +<p>"Of course it is merely a report," said Mrs. Arkwright, almost +trembling at what she had done.</p> + +<p>"That is all—at least I believe so. I had heard myself that some +such threat had been made, but I did not think that any tidings of it +had got abroad."</p> + +<p>"It was Mrs. Whiting told me. She is a great busybody, you know." +Mrs. Whiting was the wife of the present doctor.</p> + +<p>"Dear Mrs. Arkwright, it does not matter in the least. Of course I do +not expect that people should hold their tongue on my account. +Good-bye, Mrs. Arkwright." And then she got into the little carriage, +and did contrive to drive herself home to Orley Farm.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, dear, dear!" said Mrs. Arkwright to herself when she was +left alone. "Only to think of that; that she should be knocked in a +heap by a few words—in a moment, as we may say." And then she began +to consider of the matter. "I wonder what there is in it! There must +be something, or she would never have looked so like a ghost. What +will they do if Orley Farm is taken away from them after all!" And +then Mrs. Arkwright hurried out on her daily little toddle through +the town, that she might talk about and be talked to on the same +subject. She was by no means an ill-natured woman, nor was she at all +inclined to direct against Lady Mason any slight amount of venom +which might alloy her disposition. But then the matter was of such +importance! The people of Hamworth had hardly yet ceased to talk of +the last Orley Farm trial; and would it not be necessary that they +should talk much more if a new trial were really pending? Looking at +the matter in that light, would not such a trial be a godsend to the +people of Hamworth? Therefore I beg that it may not be imputed to +Mrs. Arkwright as a fault that she toddled out and sought eagerly for +her gossips.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason did manage to drive herself home; but her success in the +matter was more owing to the good faith and propriety of her pony, +than to any skilful workmanship on her own part. Her first desire had +been to get away from Mrs. Arkwright, and having made that effort she +was now for a time hardly able to make any other. It was fast coming +upon her now. Let Sir Peregrine say what comforting words he might, +let Mr. Furnival assure her that she was safe with ever so much +confidence, nevertheless she could not but believe, could not but +feel inwardly convinced, that that which she so dreaded was to +happen. It was written in the book of her destiny that there should +be a new trial.</p> + +<p>And now, from this very moment, the misery would again begin. People +would point at her, and talk of her. Her success in obtaining Orley +Farm for her own child would again be canvassed at every house in +Hamworth; and not only her success, but the means also by which that +success had been obtained. The old people would remember and the +young people would inquire; and, for her, tranquillity, repose, and +that retirement of life which had been so valuable to her, were all +gone.</p> + +<p>There could be no doubt that Dockwrath had spread the report +immediately on his return from Yorkshire; and had she well thought of +the matter she might have taken some comfort from this. Of course he +would tell the story which he did tell. His confidence in being able +again to drag the case before the Courts would by no means argue that +others believed as he believed. In fact the enemies now arraigned +against her were only those whom she already knew to be so arraigned. +But she had not sufficient command of her thoughts to be able at +first to take comfort from such a reflection as this. She felt, as +she was being carried home, that the world was going from her, and +that it would be well for her, were it possible, that she should die.</p> + +<p>But she was stronger when she reached her own door than she had been +at Mrs. Arkwright's. There was still within her a great power of +self-maintenance, if only time were allowed to her to look about and +consider how best she might support herself. Many women are in this +respect as she was. With forethought and summoned patience they can +endure great agonies; but a sudden pang, unexpected, overwhelms them. +She got out of the pony carriage with her ordinary placid face, and +walked up to her own room without having given any sign that she was +uneasy; and then she had to determine how she should bear herself +before her son. It had been with her a great object that both Sir +Peregrine and Mr. Furnival should first hear of the tidings from her, +and that they should both promise her their aid when they had heard +the story as she would tell it. In this she had been successful; and +it now seemed to her that prudence would require her to act in the +same way towards Lucius. Had it been possible to keep this matter +from him altogether, she would have given much to do so; but now it +would not be possible. It was clear that Mr. Dockwrath had chosen to +make the matter public, acting no doubt with forethought in doing so; +and Lucius would be sure to hear words which would become common in +Hamworth. Difficult as the task would be to her, it would be best +that she should prepare him. So she sat alone till dinner-time +planning how she would do this. She had sat alone for hours in the +same way planning how she would tell her story to Sir Peregrine; and +again as to her second story for Mr. Furnival. Those whose withers +are unwrung can hardly guess how absolutely a sore under the collar +will embitter every hour for the poor jade who is so tormented!</p> + +<p>But she met him at dinner with a smiling face. He loved to see her +smile, and often told her so, almost upbraiding her when she would +look sad. Why should she be sad, seeing that she had everything that +a woman could desire? Her mind was burdened with no heavy thoughts as +to feeding coming multitudes. She had no contests to wage with the +desultory chemists of the age. His purpose was to work hard during +the hours of the day,—hard also during many hours of the night; and +it was becoming that his mother should greet him softly during his +few intervals of idleness. He told her so, in some words not badly +chosen for such telling; and she, loving mother that she was, strove +valiantly to obey him.</p> + +<p>During dinner she could not speak to him, nor immediately after +dinner. The evil moment she put off from half-hour to half-hour, +still looking as though all were quiet within her bosom as she sat +beside him with her book in her hand. He was again at work before she +began her story; he thought at least that he was at work, for he had +before him on the table both Prichard and Latham, and was occupied in +making copies from some drawings of skulls which purposed to +represent the cerebral development of certain of our more distant +Asiatic brethren.</p> + +<p>"Is it not singular," said be, "that the jaws of men born and bred in +a hunter state should be differently formed from those of the +agricultural tribes?"</p> + +<p>"Are they?" said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; the maxillary profile is quite different. You will see this +especially with the Mongolians, among the Tartar tribes. It seems to +me to be very much the same difference as that between a man and a +sheep, but Prichard makes no such remark. Look here at this fellow; +he must have been intended to eat nothing but flesh; and that raw, +and without any knife or fork."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose they had many knives or forks."</p> + +<p>"By close observation I do not doubt that one could tell from a +single tooth not only what food the owner of it had been accustomed +to eat, but what language he had spoken. I say close observation, you +know. It could not be done in a day."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not." And then the student again bent over his drawing. +"You see it would have been impossible for the owner of such a jaw as +that to have ground a grain of corn between his teeth, or to have +masticated even a cabbage."</p> + +<p>"Lucius," said Lady Mason, becoming courageous on the spur of the +moment, "I want you to leave that for a moment and speak to me."</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, putting down his pencil and turning round. "Here I +am."</p> + +<p>"You have heard of the lawsuit which I had with your brother when you +were an infant?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I have heard of it; but I wish you would not call that man +my brother. He would not own me as such, and I most certainly would +not own him. As far as I can learn he is one of the most detestable +human beings that ever existed."</p> + +<p>"You have heard of him from an unfavourable side, Lucius; you should +remember that. He is a hard man, I believe; but I do not know that he +would do anything which he thought to be unjust."</p> + +<p>"Why then did he try to rob me of my property?"</p> + +<p>"Because he thought that it should have been his own. I cannot see +into his breast, but I presume that it was so."</p> + +<p>"I do not presume anything of the kind, and never shall. I was an +infant and you were a woman,—a woman at that time without many +friends, and he thought that he could rob us under cover of the law. +Had he been commonly honest it would have been enough for him to know +what had been my father's wishes, even if the will had not been +rigidly formal. I look upon him as a robber and a thief."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that, Lucius, because I differ from you. What I wish +to tell you now is this,—that he is thinking of trying the question +again."</p> + +<p>"What!—thinking of another trial now?" and Lucius Mason pushed his +drawings and books from him with a vengeance.</p> + +<p>"So I am told."</p> + +<p>"And who told you? I cannot believe it, If he intended anything of +the kind I must have been the first person to hear of it. It would be +my business now, and you may be sure that he would have taken care to +let me know his purpose."</p> + +<p>And then by degrees she explained to him that the man himself, Mr. +Mason of Groby, had as yet declared no such purpose. She had intended +to omit all mention of the name of Mr. Dockwrath, but she was unable +to do so without seeming to make a mystery with her son. When she +came to explain how the rumour had arisen and why she had thought it +necessary to tell him this, she was obliged to say that it had all +arisen from the wrath of the attorney. "He has been to Groby Park," +she said, "and now that he has returned he is spreading this report."</p> + +<p>"I shall go to him to-morrow," said Lucius, very sternly.</p> + +<p>"No, no; you must not do that. You must promise me that you will not +do that."</p> + +<p>"But I shall. You cannot suppose that I shall allow such a man as +that to tamper with my name without noticing it! It is my business +now."</p> + +<p>"No, Lucius. The attack will be against me rather than you;—that is, +if an attack be made. I have told you because I do not like to have a +secret from you."</p> + +<p>"Of course you have told me. If you are attacked who should defend +you, if I do not?"</p> + +<p>"The best defence, indeed the only defence till they take some active +step, will be silence. Most probably they will not do anything, and +then we can afford to live down such reports as these. You can +understand, Lucius, that the matter is grievous enough to me; and I +am sure that for my sake you will not make it worse by a personal +quarrel with such a man as that."</p> + +<p>"I shall go to Mr. Furnival," said he, "and ask his advice."</p> + +<p>"I have done that already, Lucius. I thought it best to do so, when +first I heard that Mr. Dockwrath was moving in the matter. It was for +that that I went up to town."</p> + +<p>"And why did you not tell me?"</p> + +<p>"I then thought that you might be spared the pain of knowing anything +of the matter. I tell you now because I hear to-day in Hamworth that +people are talking on the subject. You might be annoyed, as I was +just now, if the first tidings had reached you from some stranger."</p> + +<p>He sat silent for a while, turning his pencil in his hand, and +looking as though he were going to settle the matter off hand by his +own thoughts. "I tell you what it is, mother; I shall not let the +burden of this fall on your shoulders. You carried on the battle +before, but I must do so now. If I can trace any word of scandal to +that fellow Dockwrath, I shall indict him for a libel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius!"</p> + +<p>"I shall, and no mistake!"</p> + +<p>What would he have said had he known that his mother had absolutely +proposed to Mr. Furnival to buy off Mr. Dockwrath's animosity, almost +at any price?</p> + + +<p><a name="c16" id="c16"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> +<h3>MR. DOCKWRATH IN BEDFORD ROW.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath, as he left Leeds and proceeded to join the bosom of +his family, was not discontented with what he had done. It might not +improbably have been the case that Mr. Mason would altogether refuse +to see him, and having seen him, Mr. Mason might altogether have +declined his assistance. He might have been forced as a witness to +disclose his secret, of which he could make so much better a profit +as a legal adviser. As it was, Mr. Mason had promised to pay him for +his services, and would no doubt be induced to go so far as to give +him a legal claim for payment. Mr. Mason had promised to come up to +town, and had instructed the Hamworth attorney to meet him there; and +under such circumstances the Hamworth attorney had but little doubt +that time would produce a considerable bill of costs in his favour.</p> + +<p>And then he thought that he saw his way to a great success. I should +be painting the Devil too black were I to say that revenge was his +chief incentive in that which he was doing. All our motives are +mixed; and his wicked desire to do evil to Lady Mason in return for +the evil which she had done to him was mingled with professional +energy, and an ambition to win a cause that ought to be +won—especially a cause which others had failed to win. He said to +himself, on finding those names and dates among old Mr. Usbech's +papers, that there was still an opportunity of doing something +considerable in this Orley Farm Case, and he had made up his mind to +do it. Professional energy, revenge, and money considerations would +work hand in hand in this matter; and therefore, as he left Leeds in +the second-class railway carriage for London, he thought over the +result of his visit with considerable satisfaction.</p> + +<p>He had left Leeds at ten, and Mr. Moulder had come down in the same +omnibus to the station, and was travelling in the same train in a +first-class carriage. Mr. Moulder was a man who despised the +second-class, and was not slow to say so before other commercials who +travelled at a cheaper rate than he did. "Hubbles and Grease," he +said, "allowed him respectably, in order that he might go about their +business respectable; and he wasn't going to give the firm a bad name +by being seen in a second-class carriage, although the difference +would go into his own pocket. That wasn't the way he had begun, and +that wasn't the way he was going to end." He said nothing to Mr. +Dockwrath in the morning, merely bowing in answer to that gentleman's +salutation. "Hope you were comfortable last night in the back +drawing-room," said Mr. Dockwrath; but Mr. Moulder in reply only +looked at him.</p> + +<p>At the Mansfield station, Mr. Kantwise, with his huge wooden boxes, +appeared on the platform, and he got into the same carriage with Mr. +Dockwrath. He had come on by a night train, and had been doing a +stroke of business that morning. "Well, Kantwise," Moulder holloaed +out from his warm, well-padded seat, "doing it cheap and nasty, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all nasty, Mr. Moulder," said the other. "And I find myself +among as respectable a class of society in the second-class as you do +in the first; quite so;—and perhaps a little better," Mr. Kantwise +added, as he took his seat immediately opposite to Mr. Dockwrath. "I +hope I have the pleasure of seeing you pretty bobbish this morning, +sir." And he shook hands cordially with the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Tidy, thank you," said Dockwrath. "My company last night did not do +me any harm; you may swear to that."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! I was so delighted that you got the better of Moulder; a +domineering party, isn't he? quite terrible! For myself, I can't put +up with him sometimes."</p> + +<p>"I didn't have to put up with him last night."</p> + +<p>"No, no; it was very good, wasn't it now? very capital, indeed. All +the same I wish you'd heard Busby give us 'Beautiful Venice, City of +Song!' A charming voice has Busby; quite charming." And there was a +pause for a minute or so, after which Mr. Kantwise resumed the +conversation. "You'll allow me to put you up one of those +drawing-room sets?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am afraid not. I don't think they are strong enough where +there are children."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear; dear, dear; to hear you say so, Mr. Dockwrath! Why, they +are made for strength. They are the very things for children, because +they don't break, you know."</p> + +<p>"But they'd bend terribly."</p> + +<p>"By no means. They're so elastic that they always recovers +themselves. I didn't show you that; but you might turn the backs of +them chairs nearly down to the ground, and they will come straight +again. You let me send you a set for your wife to look at. If she's +not charmed with them I'll—I'll—I'll eat them."</p> + +<p>"Women are charmed with anything," said Mr. Dockwrath. "A new bonnet +does that."</p> + +<p>"They know what they are about pretty well, as I dare say you have +found out. I'll send express to Sheffield and have a completely new +set put up for you."</p> + +<p>"For twelve seventeen six, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! dear no, Mr. Dockwrath. The lowest figure for ready money, +delivered free, is fifteen ten."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of paying more than Mrs. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but that was a damaged set; it was, indeed. And she merely +wanted it as a present for the curate's wife. The table was quite +sprung, and the music-stool wouldn't twist."</p> + +<p>"But you'll send them to me new?"</p> + +<p>"New from the manufactory; upon my word we will."</p> + +<p>"A table that you have never acted upon—have never shown off on; +standing in the middle, you know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; upon my honour. You shall have them direct from the workshop, +and sent at once; you shall find them in your drawing-room on Tuesday +next."</p> + +<p>"We'll say thirteen ten."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't do it, Mr. Dockwrath—" And so they went on, bargaining +half the way up to town, till at last they came to terms for fourteen +eleven. "And a very superior article your lady will find them," Mr. +Kantwise said as he shook hands with his new friend at parting.</p> + +<p>One day Mr. Dockwrath remained at home in the bosom of his family, +saying all manner of spiteful things against Lady Mason, and on the +next day he went up to town and called on Round and Crook. That one +day he waited in order that Mr. Mason might have time to write; but +Mr. Mason had written on the very day of the visit to Groby Park, and +Mr. Round junior was quite ready for Mr. Dockwrath when that +gentleman called.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath when at home had again cautioned his wife to have no +intercourse whatever "with that swindler at Orley Farm," wishing +thereby the more thoroughly to imbue poor Miriam with a conviction +that Lady Mason had committed some fraud with reference to the will. +"You had better say nothing about the matter anywhere; d'you hear? +People will talk; all the world will be talking about it before long. +But that is nothing to you. If people ask you, say that you believe +that I am engaged in the case professionally, but that you know +nothing further." As to all which Miriam of course promised the most +exact obedience. But Mr. Dockwrath, though he only remained one day +in Hamworth before he went to London, took care that the curiosity of +his neighbours should be sufficiently excited.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath felt some little trepidation at the heart as he walked +into the office of Messrs. Round and Crook in Bedford Row. Messrs. +Round and Crook stood high in the profession, and were men who in the +ordinary way of business would have had no personal dealings with +such a man as Mr. Dockwrath. Had any such intercourse become +necessary on commonplace subjects Messrs. Round and Crook's +confidential clerk might have seen Mr. Dockwrath, but even he would +have looked down upon the Hamworth attorney as from a great moral +height. But now, in the matter of the Orley Farm Case, Mr. Dockwrath +had determined that he would transact business only on equal terms +with the Bedford Row people. The secret was his—of his finding; he +knew the strength of his own position, and he would use it. But +nevertheless he did tremble inwardly as he asked whether Mr. Round +was within;—or if not Mr. Round, then Mr. Crook.</p> + +<p>There were at present three members in the firm, though the old name +remained unaltered. The Mr. Round and the Mr. Crook of former days +were still working partners;—the very Round and the very Crook who +had carried on the battle on the part of Mr. Mason of Groby twenty +years ago; but to them had been added another Mr. Round, a son of old +Round, who, though his name did not absolutely appear in the +nomenclature of the firm, was, as a working man, the most important +person in it. Old Mr. Round might now be said to be ornamental and +communicative. He was a hale man of nearly seventy, who thought a +great deal of his peaches up at Isleworth, who came to the office +five times a week—not doing very much hard work, and who took the +largest share in the profits. Mr. Round senior had enjoyed the +reputation of being a sound, honourable man, but was now considered +by some to be not quite sharp enough for the practice of the present +day.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crook had usually done the dirty work of the firm, having been +originally a managing clerk; and he still did the same—in a small +way. He had been the man to exact penalties, look after costs, and +attend to any criminal business, or business partly criminal in its +nature, which might chance find its way to them. But latterly in all +great matters Mr. Round junior, Mr. Matthew Round,—his father was +Richard,—was the member of the firm on whom the world in general +placed the greatest dependence. Mr. Mason's letter had in the +ordinary way of business come to him, although it had been addressed +to his father, and he had resolved on acting on it himself.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Dockwrath called Mr. Round senior was at Birmingham, Mr. +Crook was taking his annual holiday, and Mr. Round junior was +reigning alone in Bedford Row. Instructions had been given to the +clerks that if Mr. Dockwrath called he was to be shown in, and +therefore he found himself seated, with much less trouble than he had +expected, in the private room of Mr. Round junior. He had expected to +see an old man, and was therefore somewhat confused, not feeling +quite sure that he was in company with one of the principals; but +nevertheless, looking at the room, and especially at the arm-chair +and carpet, he was aware that the legal gentleman who motioned him to +a seat could be no ordinary clerk.</p> + +<p>The manner of this legal gentleman was not, as Mr. Dockwrath thought, +quite so ceremoniously civil as it might be, considering the +important nature of the business to be transacted between them. Mr. +Dockwrath intended to treat on equal terms, and so intending would +have been glad to have shaken hands with his new ally at the +commencement of their joint operations. But the man before him,—a +man younger than himself too,—did not even rise from his chair. "Ah! +Mr. Dockwrath," he said, taking up a letter from the table, "will you +have the goodness to sit down?" And Mr. Matthew Round wheeled his own +arm-chair towards the fire, stretching out his legs comfortably, and +pointing to a somewhat distant seat as that intended for the +accommodation of his visitor. Mr. Dockwrath seated himself in the +somewhat distant seat, and deposited his hat upon the floor, not +being as yet quite at home in his position; but he made up his mind +as he did so that he would be at home before he left the room.</p> + +<p>"I find that you have been down in Yorkshire with a client of ours, +Mr. Dockwrath," said Mr. Matthew Round.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," said he of Hamworth.</p> + +<p>"Ah! well—; you are in the profession yourself, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am an attorney."</p> + +<p>"Would it not have been well to have come to us first?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think not. I have not the pleasure of knowing your name, sir."</p> + +<p>"My name is Round—Matthew Round."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir; I did not know," said Mr. Dockwrath, bowing. +It was a satisfaction to him to learn that he was closeted with a Mr. +Round, even if it were not the Mr. Round. "No, Mr. Round, I can't say +that I should have thought of that. In the first place I didn't know +whether Mr. Mason employed any lawyer, and in the +<span class="nowrap">next—"</span></p> + +<p>"Well, well; it does not matter. It is usual among the profession; +but it does not in the least signify. Mr. Mason has written to us, +and he says that you have found out something about that Orley Farm +business."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I have found out something. At least, I rather think so."</p> + +<p>"Well, what is, it, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's the question. It's rather a ticklish business, Mr. Round; +a family affair, as I may say."</p> + +<p>"Whose family?"</p> + +<p>"To a certain extent my family, and to a certain extent Mr. Mason's +family. I don't know how far I should be justified in laying all the +facts before you—wonderful facts they are too—in an off-hand way +like that. These matters have to be considered a great deal. It is +not only the extent of the property. There is much more than that in +it, Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"If you don't tell me what there is in it, I don't see what we are to +do. I am sure you did not give yourself the trouble of coming up here +from Hamworth merely with the object of telling us that you are going +to hold your tongue."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"Then what did you come to say?"</p> + +<p>"May I ask you, Mr. Round, what Mr. Mason has told you with reference +to my interview with him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I will read you a part of his letter—'Mr. Dockwrath is of +opinion that the will under which the estate is now enjoyed is +absolutely a forgery.' I presume you mean the codicil, Mr. +Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! the codicil of course."</p> + +<p>"'And he has in his possession documents which I have not seen, but +which seem to me, as described, to go far to prove that this +certainly must have been the case.' And then he goes on with a +description of dates, although it is clear that he does not +understand the matter himself—indeed he says as much. Now of course +we must see these documents before we can give our client any +advice." A certain small portion of Mr. Mason's letter Mr. Round did +then read, but he did not read those portions in which Mr. Mason +expressed his firm determination to reopen the case against Lady +Mason, and even to prosecute her for forgery if it were found that he +had anything like a fair chance of success in doing so. "I know that +you were convinced," he had said, addressing himself personally to +Mr. Round senior, "that Lady Mason was acting in good faith. I was +always convinced of the contrary, and am more sure of it now than +ever." This last paragraph, Mr. Round junior had not thought it +necessary to read to Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"The documents to which I allude are in reference to my confidential +family matters; and I certainly shall not produce them without +knowing on what ground I am standing."</p> + +<p>"Of course you are aware, Mr. Dockwrath, that we could compel you."</p> + +<p>"There, Mr. Round, I must be allowed to differ."</p> + +<p>"It won't come to that, of course. If you have anything worth +showing, you'll show it; and if we make use of you as a witness, it +must be as a willing witness."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it probable that I shall be a witness in the matter at +all."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well; perhaps not. My own impression is that no case will be +made out; that there will be nothing to take before a jury."</p> + +<p>"There again, I must differ from you, Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course! I suppose the real fact is, that it is a matter of +money. You want to be paid for what information you have got. That is +about the long and the short of it; eh, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you call the long and the short of it, Mr. Round; +or what may be your way of doing business. As a professional man, of +course I expect to be paid for my work;—and I have no doubt that you +expect the same."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, Mr. Dockwrath; but—as you have made the comparison, I +hope you will excuse me for saying so—we always wait till our +clients come to us."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath drew himself up with some intention of becoming angry; +but he hardly knew how to carry it out; and then it might be a +question whether anger would serve his turn. "Do you mean to say, Mr. +Round, if you had found documents such as these, you would have done +nothing about them—that you would have passed them by as worthless?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say that till I know what the documents are. If I found +papers concerning the client of another firm, I should go to that +firm if I thought that they demanded attention."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know anything about the firm;—how was I to know?"</p> + +<p>"Well! you know now, Mr. Dockwrath. As I understand it, our client +has referred you to us. If you have anything to say, we are ready to +hear it. If you have anything to show, we are ready to look at it. If +you have nothing to say, and nothing to +<span class="nowrap">show—"</span></p> + +<p>"Ah, but I have; only—"</p> + +<p>"Only you want us to make it worth your while. We might as well have +the truth at once. Is not that about it?"</p> + +<p>"I want to see my way, of course."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And now, Mr. Dockwrath, I must make you understand that we +don't do business in that way."</p> + +<p>"Then I shall see Mr. Mason again myself."</p> + +<p>"That you can do. He will be in town next week, and, as I believe, +wishes to see you. As regards your expenses, if you can show us that +you have any communication to make that is worth our client's +attention, we will see that you are paid what you are out of pocket, +and some fair remuneration for the time you may have lost;—not as an +attorney, remember, for in that light we cannot regard you."</p> + +<p>"I am every bit as much an attorney as you are."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; but you are not Mr. Mason's attorney; and as long as it +suits him to honour us with his custom, you cannot be so regarded."</p> + +<p>"That's as he pleases."</p> + +<p>"No; it is not, Mr. Dockwrath. It is as he pleases whether he employs +you or us; but it is not as he pleases whether he employs both on +business of the same class. He may give us his confidence, or he may +withdraw it."</p> + +<p>"Looking at the way the matter was managed before, perhaps the latter +may be the better for him."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Mr. Dockwrath, for saying that that is a question I shall +not discuss with you."</p> + +<p>Upon this Mr. Dockwrath jumped from his chair, and took up his hat. +"Good morning to you, sir," said Mr. Round, without moving from his +chair; "I will tell Mr. Mason that you have declined making any +communication to us. He will probably know your address—if he should +want it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath paused. Was he not about to sacrifice substantial +advantage to momentary anger? Would it not be better that he should +carry this impudent young London lawyer with him if it were possible? +"Sir," said he, "I am quite willing to tell you all that I know of +this matter at present, if you will have the patience to hear it."</p> + +<p>"Patience, Mr. Dockwrath! Why I am made of patience. Sit down again, +Mr. Dockwrath, and think of it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath did sit down again, and did think of it; and it ended +in his telling to Mr. Round all that he had told to Mr. Mason. As he +did so, he looked closely at Mr. Round's face, but there he could +read nothing. "Exactly," said Mr. Round. "The fourteenth of July is +the date of both. I have taken a memorandum of that. A final deed for +closing partnership, was it? I have got that down. John Kenneby and +Bridget Bolster. I remember the names,—witnesses to both deeds, were +they? I understand; nothing about this other deed was brought up at +the trial? I see the point—such as it is. John Kenneby and Bridget +Bolster;—both believed to be living. Oh, you can give their address, +can you? Decline to do so now? Very well; it does not matter. I think +I understand it all now, Mr. Dockwrath; and when we want you again, +you shall hear from us. Samuel Dockwrath, is it? Thank you. Good +morning. If Mr. Mason wishes to see you, he will write, of course. +Good day, Mr. Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>And so Mr. Dockwrath went home, not quite contented with his day's +work.</p> + + +<p><a name="c17" id="c17"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> +<h3>VON BAUHR.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It will be remembered that Mr. Crabwitz was sent across from +Lincoln's Inn to Bedford Row to ascertain the present address of old +Mr. Round. "Mr. Round is at Birmingham," he said, coming back. "Every +one connected with the profession is at Birmingham, +<span class="nowrap">except—"</span></p> + +<p>"The more fools they," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"I am thinking of going down myself this evening," said Mr. Crabwitz. +"As you will be out of town, sir, I suppose I can be spared?"</p> + +<p>"You too!"</p> + +<p>"And why not me, Mr. Furnival? When all the profession is meeting +together, why should not I be there as well as another? I hope you do +not deny me my right to feel an interest in the great subjects which +are being discussed."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least, Mr. Crabwitz. I do not deny you your right to be +Lord Chief Justice, if you can accomplish it. But you cannot be Lord +Chief Justice and my clerk at the same time. Nor can you be in my +chambers if you are at Birmingham. I rather think I must trouble you +to remain here, as I cannot tell at what moment I may be in town +again."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, I'm afraid—" Mr. Crabwitz began his speech and then +faltered. He was going to tell Mr. Furnival that he must suit himself +with another clerk, when he remembered his fees, and paused. It would +be very pleasant to him to quit Mr. Furnival, but where could he get +such another place? He knew that he himself was invaluable, but then +he was invaluable only to Mr. Furnival. Mr. Furnival would be mad to +part with him, Mr. Crabwitz thought; but then would he not be almost +more mad to part with Mr. Furnival?</p> + +<p>"Eh; well?" said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Oh! of course; if you desire it, Mr. Furnival, I will remain. But I +must say I think it is rather hard."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Crabwitz; if you think my service is too hard upon +you, you had better leave it. But if you take upon yourself to tell +me so again, you must leave it. Remember that." Mr. Furnival +possessed the master mind of the two; and Mr. Crabwitz felt this as +he slunk back to his own room.</p> + +<p>So Mr. Round also was at Birmingham, and could be seen there. This +was so far well; and Mr. Furnival, having again with ruthless malice +sent Mr. Crabwitz for a cab, at once started for the Euston Square +Station. He could master Mr. Crabwitz, and felt a certain pleasure in +having done so; but could he master Mrs. F.? That lady had on one or +two late occasions shown her anger at the existing state of her +domestic affairs, and had once previously gone so far as to make her +lord understand that she was jealous of his proceedings with +reference to other goddesses. But she had never before done this in +the presence of other people;—she had never allowed any special +goddess to see that she was the special object of such jealousy. Now +she had not only committed herself in this way, but had also +committed him, making him feel himself to be ridiculous; and it was +highly necessary that some steps should be taken;—if he only knew +what step! All which kept his mind active as he journeyed in the cab.</p> + +<p>At the station he found three or four other lawyers, all bound for +Birmingham. Indeed, during this fortnight the whole line had been +alive with learned gentlemen going to and fro, discussing weighty +points as they rattled along the iron road, and shaking their +ponderous heads at the new ideas which were being ventilated. Mr. +Furnival, with many others—indeed, with most of those who were so +far advanced in the world as to be making bread by their +profession—was of opinion that all this palaver that was going on in +the various tongues of Babel would end as it began—in words. "Vox et +præterea nihil." To practical Englishmen most of these international +congresses seem to arrive at nothing else. Men will not be talked out +of the convictions of their lives. No living orator would convince a +grocer that coffee should be sold without chicory; and no amount of +eloquence will make an English lawyer think that loyalty to truth +should come before loyalty to his client. And therefore our own +pundits, though on this occasion they went to Birmingham, summoned by +the greatness of the occasion, by the dignity of foreign names, by +interest in the question, and by the influence of such men as Lord +Boanerges, went there without any doubt on their minds as to the +rectitude of their own practice, and fortified with strong resolves +to resist all idea of change.</p> + +<p>And indeed one cannot understand how the bent of any man's mind +should be altered by the sayings and doings of such a congress.</p> + +<p>"Well, Johnson, what have you all been doing to-day?" asked Mr. +Furnival of a special friend whom he chanced to meet at the club +which had been extemporized at Birmingham.</p> + +<p>"We have had a paper read by Von Bauhr. It lasted three hours."</p> + +<p>"Three hours! heavens! Von Bauhr is, I think, from Berlin."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he and Dr. Slotacher. Slotacher is to read his paper the day +after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Then I think I shall go to London again. But what did Von Bauhr say +to you during those three hours?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it was all in German, and I don't suppose that any one +understood him,—unless it was Boanerges. But I believe it was the +old story, going to show that the same man might be judge, advocate, +and jury."</p> + +<p>"No doubt;—if men were machines, and if you could find such machines +perfect at all points in their machinery."</p> + +<p>"And if the machines had no hearts?"</p> + +<p>"Machines don't have hearts," said Mr. Furnival; "especially those in +Germany. And what did Boanerges say? His answer did not take three +hours more, I hope."</p> + +<p>"About twenty minutes; but what he did say was lost on Von Bauhr, who +understands as much English as I do German. He said that the practice +of the Prussian courts had always been to him a subject of intense +interest, and that the general justice of their verdicts could not be +impugned."</p> + +<p>"Nor ought it, seeing that a single trial for murder will occupy a +court for three weeks. He should have asked Von Bauhr how much work +he usually got through in the course of a sessions. I don't seem to +have lost much by being away. By-the-by, do you happen to know +whether Round is here?"</p> + +<p>"What, old Round? I saw him in the hall to-day yawning as though he +would burst." And then Mr. Furnival strolled off to look for the +attorney among the various purlieus frequented by the learned +strangers.</p> + +<p>"Furnival," said another barrister, accosting him,—an elderly man, +small, with sharp eyes and bushy eyebrows, dirty in his attire and +poor in his general appearance, "have you seen Judge Staveley?" This +was Mr. Chaffanbrass, great at the Old Bailey, a man well able to +hold his own in spite of the meanness of his appearance. At such a +meeting as this the English bar generally could have had no better +representative than Mr. Chaffanbrass.</p> + +<p>"No; is he here?"</p> + +<p>"He must be here. He is the only man they could find who knows enough +Italian to understand what that fat fellow from Florence will say +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"We're to have the Italian to-morrow, are we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and Staveley afterwards. It's as good as a play; only, like all +plays, it's three times too long. I wonder whether anybody here +believes in it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Felix Graham does."</p> + +<p>"He believes everything—unless it is the Bible. He is one of those +young men who look for an instant millennium, and who regard +themselves not only as the prophets who foretell it, but as the +preachers who will produce it. For myself, I am too old for a new +gospel, with Felix Graham as an apostle."</p> + +<p>"They say that Boanerges thinks a great deal of him."</p> + +<p>"That can't be true, for Boanerges never thought much of any one but +himself. Well, I'm off to bed, for I find a day here ten times more +fatiguing than the Old Bailey in July."</p> + +<p>On the whole the meeting was rather dull, as such meetings usually +are. It must not be supposed that any lawyer could get up at will, as +the spirit moved him, and utter his own ideas; or that all members of +the congress could speak if only they could catch the speaker's eye. +Had this been so, a man might have been supported by the hope of +having some finger in the pie, sooner or later. But in such case the +congress would have lasted for ever. As it was, the names of those +who were invited to address the meeting were arranged, and of course +men from each country were selected who were best known in their own +special walks of their profession. But then these best-known men took +an unfair advantage of their position, and were ruthless in the +lengthy cruelty of their addresses. Von Bauhr at Berlin was no doubt +a great lawyer, but he should not have felt so confident that the +legal proceedings of England and of the civilised world in general +could be reformed by his reading that book of his from the rostrum in +the hall at Birmingham! The civilised world in general, as there +represented, had been disgusted, and it was surmised that poor Dr. +Slotacher would find but a meagre audience when his turn came.</p> + +<p>At last Mr. Furnival succeeded in hunting up Mr. Round, and found him +recruiting outraged nature with a glass of brandy and water and a +cigar. "Looking for me, have you? Well, here I am; that is to say, +what is left of me. Were you in the hall to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No; I was up in town."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that accounts for your being so fresh. I wish I had been there. +Do you ever do anything in this way?" and Mr. Round touched the +outside of his glass of toddy with his spoon. Mr. Furnival said that +he never did do anything in that way, which was true. Port wine was +his way, and it may be doubted whether on the whole it is not the +more dangerous way of the two. But Mr. Furnival, though he would not +drink brandy and water or smoke cigars, sat down opposite to Mr. +Round, and had soon broached the subject which was on his mind.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the attorney, "it is quite true that I had a letter on +the subject from Mr. Mason. The lady is not wrong in supposing that +some one is moving in the matter."</p> + +<p>"And your client wishes you to take up the case again?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt he does. He was not a man that I ever greatly liked, Mr. +Furnival, though I believe he means well. He thinks that he has been +ill used; and perhaps he was ill used—by his father."</p> + +<p>"But that can be no possible reason for badgering the life out of his +father's widow twenty years after his father's death!"</p> + +<p>"Of course he thinks that he has some new evidence. I can't say I +looked into the matter much myself. I did read the letter; but that +was all, and then I handed it to my son. As far as I remember, Mr. +Mason said that some attorney at Hamworth had been to him."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; a low fellow whom you would be ashamed to see in your +office! He fancies that young Mason has injured him; and though he +has received numberless benefits from Lady Mason, this is the way in +which he chooses to be revenged on her son."</p> + +<p>"We should have nothing to do with such a matter as that, you know. +It's not our line."</p> + +<p>"No, of course it is not; I am well aware of that. And I am equally +well aware that nothing Mr. Mason can do can shake Lady Mason's +title, or rather her son's title, to the property. But, Mr. Round, if +he be encouraged to gratify his +<span class="nowrap">malice—"</span></p> + +<p>"If who be encouraged?"</p> + +<p>"Your client, Mr. Mason of Groby;—there can be no doubt that he +might harass this unfortunate lady till he brought her nearly to the +grave."</p> + +<p>"That would be a pity, for I believe she's still an uncommon pretty +woman." And the attorney indulged in a little fat inward chuckle; for +in these days Mr. Furnival's taste with reference to strange +goddesses was beginning to be understood by the profession.</p> + +<p>"She is a very old friend of mine," said Mr. Furnival, gravely, "a +very old friend indeed; and if I were to desert her now, she would +have no one to whom she could look."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ah, yes; I'm sure you're very kind;" and Mr. Round altered his +face and tone, so that they might be in conformity with those of his +companion. "Anything I can do, of course I shall be very happy. I +should be slow, myself, to advise my client to try the matter again, +but to tell the truth anything of this kind would go to my son now. I +did read Mr. Mason's letter, but I immediately handed it to Matthew."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you how you can oblige me, Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"Do tell me; I am sure I shall be very happy."</p> + +<p>"Look into this matter yourself, and talk it over with Mr. Mason +before you allow anything to be done. It is not that I doubt your +son's discretion. Indeed we all know what an exceedingly good man of +business he is."</p> + +<p>"Matthew is sharp enough," said the prosperous father.</p> + +<p>"But then young men are apt to be too sharp. I don't know whether you +remember the case about that Orley Farm, Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"As well as if it were yesterday," said the attorney.</p> + +<p>"Then you must recollect how thoroughly you were convinced that your +client had not a leg to stand upon."</p> + +<p>"It was I that insisted that he should not carry it before the +Chancellor. Crook had the general management of those cases then, and +would have gone on; but I said, no. I would not see my client's money +wasted in such a wild-goose chase. In the first place the property +was not worth it; and in the next place there was nothing to impugn +the will. If I remember right it all turned on whether an old man who +had signed as witness was well enough to write his name."</p> + +<p>"That was the point."</p> + +<p>"And I think it was shown that he had himself signed a receipt on +that very day—or the day after, or the day before. It was something +of that kind."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; those were the facts. As regards the result of a new trial, +no sane man, I fancy, could have any doubt. You know as well as any +one living how great is the strength of twenty years of +<span class="nowrap">possession—"</span></p> + +<p>"It would be very strong on her side, certainly."</p> + +<p>"He would not have a chance; of course not. But, Mr. Round, he might +make that poor woman so wretched that death would be a relief to her. +Now it may be possible that something looking like fresh evidence may +have been discovered; something of this kind probably has been found, +or this man would not be moving; he would not have gone to the +expense of a journey to Yorkshire had he not got hold of some new +story."</p> + +<p>"He has something in his head; you may be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Don't let your son be run away with by this, or advise your client +to incur the terrible expense of a new trial, without knowing what +you are about. I tell you fairly that I do dread such a trial on this +poor lady's account. Reflect what it would be, Mr. Round, to any lady +of your own family."</p> + +<p>"I don't think Mrs. Round would mind it much; that is, if she were +sure of her case."</p> + +<p>"She is a strong-minded woman; but poor Lady +<span class="nowrap">Mason—."</span></p> + +<p>"She was strong-minded enough too, if I remember right, at the last +trial. I shall never forget how composed she was when old Bennett +tried to shake her evidence. Do you remember how bothered he was?"</p> + +<p>"He was an excellent lawyer,—was Bennett. There are few better men +at the bar now-a-days."</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't have found him down here, Mr. Furnival, listening to a +German lecture three hours long. I don't know how it is, but I think +we all used to work harder in those days than the young men do now." +And then these eulogists of past days went back to the memories of +their youths, declaring how in the old glorious years, now gone, no +congress such as this would have had a chance of success. Men had +men's work to do then, and were not wont to play the fool, first at +one provincial town and then at another, but stuck to their oars and +made their fortunes. "It seems to me, Mr. Furnival," said Mr. Round, +"that this is all child's play, and to tell the truth I am half +ashamed of myself for being here."</p> + +<p>"And you'll look into that matter yourself, Mr. Round?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will, certainly."</p> + +<p>"I shall take it as a great favour. Of course you will advise your +client in accordance with any new facts which may be brought before +you; but as I feel certain that no case against young Mason can have +any merits, I do hope that you will be able to suggest to Mr. Mason +of Groby that the matter should be allowed to rest." And then Mr. +Furnival took his leave, still thinking how far it might be possible +that the enemy's side of the question might be supported by real +merits. Mr. Round was a good-natured old fellow, and if the case +could be inveigled out of his son's hands and into his own, it might +be possible that even real merits should avail nothing.</p> + +<p>"I confess I am getting rather tired of it," said Felix Graham that +evening to his friend young Staveley, as he stood outside his bedroom +door at the top of a narrow flight of stairs in the back part of a +large hotel at Birmingham.</p> + +<p>"Tired of it! I should think you are too."</p> + +<p>"But nevertheless I am as sure as ever that good will come from it. I +am inclined to think that the same kind of thing must be endured +before any improvement is made in anything."</p> + +<p>"That all reformers have to undergo Von Bauhr?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all of them that do any good. Von Bauhr's words were very dry, +no doubt."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that you understood them?"</p> + +<p>"Not many of them. A few here and there, for the first half-hour, +came trembling home to my dull comprehension, and +<span class="nowrap">then—"</span></p> + +<p>"You went to sleep."</p> + +<p>"The sounds became too difficult for my ears; but dry and dull and +hard as they were, they will not absolutely fall to the ground. He +had a meaning in them, and that meaning will reproduce itself in some +shape."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid that it should ever do so in my presence! All the +iniquities of which the English bar may be guilty cannot be so +intolerable to humanity as Von Bauhr."</p> + +<p>"Well, good-night, old fellow; your governor is to give us his ideas +to-morrow, and perhaps he will be as bad to the Germans as your Von +Bauhr was to us."</p> + +<p>"Then I can only say that my governor will be very cruel to the +Germans." And so they two went to their dreams.</p> + +<p>In the mean time Von Bauhr was sitting alone looking back on the past +hours with ideas and views very different from those of the many +English lawyers who were at that time discussing his demerits. To him +the day had been one long triumph, for his voice had sounded sweet in +his own ears as, period after period, he had poured forth in full +flowing language the gathered wisdom and experience of his life. +Public men in England have so much to do that they cannot give time +to the preparation of speeches for such meetings as these, but Von +Bauhr had been at work on his pamphlet for months. Nay, taking it in +the whole, had he not been at work on it for years? And now a kind +Providence had given him the opportunity of pouring it forth before +the assembled pundits gathered from all the nations of the civilised +world.</p> + +<p>As he sat there, solitary in his bedroom, his hands dropped down by +his side, his pipe hung from his mouth on to his breast, and his +eyes, turned up to the ceiling, were lighted almost with inspiration. +Men there at the congress, Mr. Chaffanbrass, young Staveley, Felix +Graham, and others, had regarded him as an impersonation of dullness; +but through his mind and brain, as he sat there wrapped in his old +dressing-gown, there ran thoughts which seemed to lift him lightly +from the earth into an elysium of justice and mercy. And at the end +of this elysium, which was not wild in its beauty, but trim and +orderly in its gracefulness,—as might be a beer-garden at +Munich,—there stood among flowers and vases a pedestal, grand above +all other pedestals in that garden; and on this there was a bust with +an inscription:—"To Von Bauhr, who reformed the laws of nations."</p> + +<p>It was a grand thought; and though there was in it much of human +conceit, there was in it also much of human philanthropy. If a reign +of justice could be restored through his efforts—through those +efforts in which on this hallowed day he had been enabled to make so +great a progress—how beautiful would it be! And then as he sat +there, while the smoke still curled from his unconscious nostrils, he +felt that he loved all Germans, all Englishmen, even all Frenchmen, +in his very heart of hearts, and especially those who had travelled +wearily to this English town that they might listen to the results of +his wisdom. He said to himself, and said truly, that he loved the +world, and that he would willingly spend himself in these great +endeavours for the amelioration of its laws and the perfection of its +judicial proceedings. And then he betook himself to bed in a frame of +mind that was not unenviable.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill17" id="ill17"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill17.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill17-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Von Bauhr's Dream." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Von Bauhr's Dream.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill17.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>I am inclined, myself, to agree with Felix Graham that such efforts +are seldom absolutely wasted. A man who strives honestly to do good +will generally do good, though seldom perhaps as much as he has +himself anticipated. Let Von Bauhr have his pedestal among the +flowers, even though it be small and humble!</p> + + +<p><a name="c18" id="c18"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> +<h3>THE ENGLISH VON BAUHR.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the following morning, before breakfast, Felix Graham and Augustus +Staveley prepared themselves for the labours of the coming day by a +walk into the country; for even at Birmingham, by perseverance, a +walk into the country may be attained,—and very pretty country it is +when reached. These congress meetings did not begin before eleven, so +that for those who were active time for matutinal exercise was +allowed.</p> + +<p>Augustus Staveley was the only son of the judge who on that day was +to defend the laws of England from such attacks as might be made on +them by a very fat advocate from Florence. Of Judge Staveley himself +much need not be said now, except that he lived at Noningsby near +Alston, distant from The Cleeve about nine miles, and that at his +house Sophia Furnival had been invited to pass the coming Christmas. +His son was a handsome clever fellow, who had nearly succeeded in +getting the Newdegate, and was now a member of the Middle Temple. He +was destined to follow the steps of his father, and become a light at +the Common Law bar; but hitherto he had not made much essential +progress. The world had been too pleasant to him to allow of his +giving many of his hours to work. His father was one of the best men +in the world, revered on the bench, and loved by all men; but he had +not sufficient parental sternness to admit of his driving his son +well into harness. He himself had begun the world with little or +nothing, and had therefore succeeded; but his son was already +possessed of almost everything that he could want, and therefore his +success seemed doubtful. His chambers were luxuriously furnished, he +had his horse in Piccadilly, his father's house at Noningsby was +always open to him, and the society of London spread out for him all +its allurements. Under such circumstances how could it be expected +that he should work? Nevertheless he did talk of working, and had +some idea in his head of the manner in which he would do so. To a +certain extent he had worked, and he could talk fluently of the +little that he knew. The idea of a <i>far niente</i> life would have been +intolerable to him; but there were many among his friends who began +to think that such a life would nevertheless be his ultimate destiny. +Nor did it much matter, they said, for the judge was known to have +made money.</p> + +<p>But his friend Felix Graham was rowing in a very different boat; and +of him also many prophesied that he would hardly be able to push his +craft up against the strength of the stream. Not that he was an idle +man, but that he would not work at his oars in the only approved +method of making progress for his boat. He also had been at Oxford; +but he had done little there except talk at a debating society, and +make himself notorious by certain ideas on religious subjects which +were not popular at the University. He had left without taking a +degree, in consequence, as it was believed, of some such notions, and +had now been called to the bar with a fixed resolve to open the +oyster with such weapons, offensive and defensive, as nature had +given to him. But here, as at Oxford, he would not labour on the same +terms with other men, or make himself subject to the same +conventional rules; and therefore it seemed only too probable that he +might win no prize. He had ideas of his own that men should pursue +their labours without special conventional regulations, but should be +guided in their work by the general great rules of the world,—such +for instance as those given in the commandments:—Thou shalt not bear +false witness; Thou shalt not steal; and others. His notions no doubt +were great, and perhaps were good; but hitherto they had not led him +to much pecuniary success in his profession. A sort of a name he had +obtained, but it was not a name sweet in the ears of practising +attorneys.</p> + +<p>And yet it behoved Felix Graham to make money, for none was coming to +him ready made from any father. Father or mother he had none, nor +uncles and aunts likely to be of service to him. He had begun the +world with some small sum, which had grown smaller and smaller, till +now there was left to him hardly enough to create an infinitesimal +dividend. But he was not a man to become downhearted on that account. +A living of some kind he could pick up, and did now procure for +himself, from the press of the day. He wrote poetry for the +periodicals, and politics for the penny papers with considerable +success and sufficient pecuniary results. He would sooner do this, he +often boasted, than abandon his great ideas or descend into the arena +with other weapons than those which he regarded as fitting for an +honest man's hand.</p> + +<p>Augustus Staveley, who could be very prudent for his friend, declared +that marriage would set him right. If Felix would marry he would +quietly slip his neck into the collar and work along with the team, +as useful a horse as ever was put at the wheel of a coach. But Felix +did not seem inclined to marry. He had notions about that also, and +was believed by one or two who knew him intimately to cherish an +insane affection for some unknown damsel, whose parentage, education, +and future were not likely to assist his views in the outer world. +Some said that he was educating this damsel for his wife,—moulding +her, so that she might be made fit to suit his taste; but Augustus, +though he knew the secret of all this, was of opinion that it would +come right at last. "He'll meet some girl in the world with a hatful +of money, a pretty face, and a sharp tongue; then he'll bestow his +moulded bride on a neighbouring baker with two hundred pounds for her +fortune;—and everybody will be happy."</p> + +<p>Felix Graham was by no means a handsome man. He was tall and thin, +and his face had been slightly marked with the small-pox. He stooped +in his gait as he walked, and was often awkward with his hands and +legs. But he was full of enthusiasm, indomitable, as far as pluck +would make him so, in contests of all kinds, and when he talked on +subjects which were near his heart there was a radiance about him +which certainly might win the love of the pretty girl with the sharp +tongue and the hatful of money. Staveley, who really loved him, had +already selected the prize, and she was no other than our friend, +Sophia Furnival. The sharp tongue and the pretty face and the hatful +of money would all be there; but then Sophia Furnival was a girl who +might perhaps expect in return for these things more than an ugly +face which could occasionally become radiant with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The two men had got away from the thickness of the Birmingham smoke, +and were seated on the top rung of a gate leading into a stubble +field. So far they had gone with mutual consent, but further than +this Staveley refused to go. He was seated with a cigar in his mouth. +Graham also was smoking, but he was accommodated with a short pipe.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill18" id="ill18"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill18.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill18-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="The English Von Bauhr and his pupil." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">The English Von Bauhr and his pupil.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill18.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"A walk before breakfast is all very well," said Staveley, "but I am +not going on a pilgrimage. We are four miles from the inn this +minute."</p> + +<p>"And for your energies that is a good deal. Only think that you +should have been doing anything for two hours before you begin to +feed."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why matutinal labour should always be considered as so +meritorious. Merely, I take it, because it is disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"It proves that the man can make an effort."</p> + +<p>"Every prig who wishes to have it believed that he does more than his +neighbours either burns the midnight lamp or gets up at four in the +morning. Good wholesome work between breakfast and dinner never seems +to count for anything."</p> + +<p>"Have you ever tried?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am trying now, here at Birmingham."</p> + +<p>"Not you."</p> + +<p>"That's so like you, Graham. You don't believe that anybody is +attending to what is going on except yourself. I mean to-day to take +in the whole theory of Italian jurisprudence."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that you may do so with advantage. I do not suppose +that it is very good, but it must at any rate be better than our own. +Come, let us go back to the town; my pipe is finished."</p> + +<p>"Fill another, there's a good fellow. I can't afford to throw away my +cigar, and I hate walking and smoking. You mean to assert that our +whole system is bad, and rotten, and unjust?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to say that I think so."</p> + +<p>"And yet we consider ourselves the greatest people in the world,—or +at any rate the honestest."</p> + +<p>"I think we are; but laws and their management have nothing to do +with making people honest. Good laws won't make people honest, nor +bad laws dishonest."</p> + +<p>"But a people who are dishonest in one trade will probably be +dishonest in others. Now, you go so far as to say that all English +lawyers are rogues."</p> + +<p>"I have never said so. I believe your father to be as honest a man as +ever breathed."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," and Staveley lifted his hat.</p> + +<p>"And I would fain hope that I am an honest man myself."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you don't make money by it."</p> + +<p>"What I do mean is this, that from our love of precedent and ceremony +and old usages, we have retained a system which contains many of the +barbarities of the feudal times, and also many of its lies. We try +our culprit as we did in the old days of the ordeal. If luck will +carry him through the hot ploughshares, we let him escape though we +know him to be guilty. We give him the advantage of every +technicality, and teach him to lie in his own defence, if nature has +not sufficiently so taught him already."</p> + +<p>"You mean as to his plea of not guilty."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't; that is little or nothing. We ask him whether or no he +confesses his guilt in a foolish way, tending to induce him to deny +it; but that is not much. Guilt seldom will confess as long as a +chance remains. But we teach him to lie, or rather we lie for him +during the whole ceremony of his trial. We think it merciful to give +him chances of escape, and hunt him as we do a fox, in obedience to +certain laws framed for his protection."</p> + +<p>"And should he have no protection?"</p> + +<p>"None certainly, as a guilty man; none which may tend towards the +concealing of his guilt. Till that be ascertained, proclaimed, and +made apparent, every man's hand should be against him."</p> + +<p>"But if he is innocent?"</p> + +<p>"Therefore let him be tried with every possible care. I know you +understand what I mean, though you look as though you did not. For +the protection of his innocence let astute and good men work their +best, but for the concealing of his guilt let no astute or good man +work at all."</p> + +<p>"And you would leave the poor victim in the dock without defence?"</p> + +<p>"By no means. Let the poor victim, as you call him,—who in +ninety-nine cases out of a hundred is a rat who has been preying in +our granaries,—let him, I say, have his defender,—the defender of +his possible innocence, not the protector of his probable guilt. It, +all resolves itself into this. Let every lawyer go into court with a +mind resolved to make conspicuous to the light of day that which +seems to him to be the truth. A lawyer who does not do that—who does +the reverse of that, has in my mind undertaken work which is unfit +for a gentleman and impossible for an honest man."</p> + +<p>"What a pity it is that you should not have an opportunity of +rivalling Von Bauhr at the congress!"</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that Von Bauhr said a great deal of the same nature; +and what Von Bauhr said will not wholly be wasted, though it may not +yet have reached our sublime understandings."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he will vouchsafe to us a translation."</p> + +<p>"It would be useless at present, seeing that we cannot bring +ourselves to believe it possible that a foreigner should in any +respect be wiser than ourselves. If any such point out to us our +follies, we at once claim those follies as the special evidences of +our wisdom. We are so self-satisfied with our own customs, that we +hold up our hands with surprise at the fatuity of men who presume to +point out to us their defects. Those practices in which we most +widely depart from the broad and recognised morality of all civilised +ages and countries are to us the Palladiums of our jurisprudence. +Modes of proceeding which, if now first proposed to us, would be +thought to come direct from the devil, have been made so sacred by +time that they have lost all the horror of their falseness in the +holiness of their age. We cannot understand that other nations look +upon such doings as we regard the human sacrifices of the Brahmins; +but the fact is that we drive a Juggernaut's car through every assize +town in the country, three times a year, and allow it to be dragged +ruthlessly through the streets of the metropolis at all times and +seasons. Now come back to breakfast, for I won't wait here any +longer." Seeing that these were the ideas of Felix Graham, it is +hardly a matter of wonder that such men as Mr. Furnival and Mr. Round +should have regarded his success at the bar as doubtful.</p> + +<p>"Uncommon bad mutton chops these are," said Staveley, as they sat at +their meal in the coffee-room of the Imperial Hotel.</p> + +<p>"Are they?" said Graham. "They seem to me much the same as other +mutton chops."</p> + +<p>"They are uneatable. And look at this for coffee! Waiter, take this +away, and have some made fresh."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the waiter, striving to escape without further +comment.</p> + +<p>"And waiter—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir;" and the poor overdriven functionary returned.</p> + +<p>"Ask them from me whether they know how to make coffee. It does not +consist of an unlimited supply of lukewarm water poured over an +infinitesimal proportion of chicory. That process, time-honoured in +the hotel line, will not produce the beverage called coffee. Will you +have the goodness to explain that in the bar as coming from me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the waiter; and then he was allowed to disappear.</p> + +<p>"How can you give yourself so much trouble with no possible hope of +an advantageous result?" said Felix Graham.</p> + +<p>"That's what you weak men always say. Perseverance in such a course +will produce results. It is because we put up with bad things that +hotel-keepers continue to give them to us. Three or four Frenchmen +were dining with my father yesterday at the King's Head, and I had to +sit at the bottom of the table. I declare to you that I literally +blushed for my country; I did indeed. It was useless to say anything +then, but it was quite clear that there was nothing that one of them +could eat. At any hotel in France you'll get a good dinner; but we're +so proud that we are ashamed to take lessons." And thus Augustus +Staveley was quite as loud against his own country, and as laudatory +with regard to others, as Felix Graham had been before breakfast.</p> + +<p>And so the congress went on at Birmingham. The fat Italian from +Tuscany read his paper; but as he, though judge in his own country +and reformer here in England, was somewhat given to comedy, this +morning was not so dull as that which had been devoted to Von Bauhr. +After him Judge Staveley made a very elegant, and some said, a very +eloquent speech; and so that day was done. Many other days also wore +themselves away in this process; numerous addresses were read, and +answers made to them, and the newspapers for the time were full of +law. The defence of our own system, which was supposed to be the most +remarkable for its pertinacity, if not for its justice, came from Mr. +Furnival, who roused himself to a divine wrath for the occasion. And +then the famous congress at Birmingham was brought to a close, and +all the foreigners returned to their own countries.</p> + + +<p><a name="c19" id="c19"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> +<h3>THE STAVELEY FAMILY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The next two months passed by without any events which deserve our +special notice, unless it be that Mr. Joseph Mason and Mr. Dockwrath +had a meeting in the room of Mr. Matthew Round, in Bedford Row. Mr. +Dockwrath struggled hard to effect this without the presence of the +London attorney; but he struggled in vain. Mr. Round was not the man +to allow any stranger to tamper with his client, and Mr. Dockwrath +was forced to lower his flag before him. The result was that the +document or documents which had been discovered at Hamworth were +brought up to Bedford Row; and Dockwrath at last made up his mind +that as he could not supplant Matthew Round, he would consent to +fight under him as his lieutenant—or even as his sergeant or +corporal, if no higher position might be allowed to him.</p> + +<p>"There is something in it, certainly, Mr. Mason," said young Round; +"but I cannot undertake to say as yet that we are in a position to +prove the point."</p> + +<p>"It will be proved," said Mr. Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"I confess it seems to me very clear," said Mr. Mason, who by this +time had been made to understand the bearings of the question. "It is +evident that she chose that day for her date because those two +persons had then been called upon to act as witnesses to that other +deed."</p> + +<p>"That of course is our allegation. I only say that we may have some +difficulty in proving it."</p> + +<p>"The crafty, thieving swindler!" exclaimed Mr. Mason. "She has been +sharp enough if it is as we think," said Round, laughing; and then +there was nothing more done in the matter for some time, to the great +disgust both of Mr. Dockwrath and Mr. Mason. Old Mr. Round had kept +his promise to Mr. Furnival; or, at least, had done something towards +keeping it. He had not himself taken the matter into his own hands, +but he had begged his son to be cautious. "It's not the sort of +business that we care for, Mat," said he; "and as for that fellow +down in Yorkshire, I never liked him." To this Mat had answered that +neither did he like Mr. Mason; but as the case had about it some very +remarkable points, it was necessary to look into it; and then the +matter was allowed to stand over till after Christmas.</p> + +<p>We will now change the scene to Noningsby, the judge's country seat, +near Alston, at which a party was assembled for the Christmas +holidays. The judge was there of course,—without his wig; in which +guise I am inclined to think that judges spend the more comfortable +hours of their existence; and there also was Lady Staveley, her +presence at home being altogether a matter of course, inasmuch as she +had no other home than Noningsby. For many years past, ever since the +happy day on which Noningsby had been acquired, she had repudiated +London; and the poor judge, when called upon by his duties to reside +there, was compelled to live like a bachelor, in lodgings. Lady +Staveley was a good, motherly, warm-hearted woman, who thought a +great deal about her flowers and fruit, believing that no one else +had them so excellent,—much also about her butter and eggs, which in +other houses were, in her opinion, generally unfit to be eaten; she +thought also a great deal about her children, who were all +swans,—though, as she often observed with a happy sigh, those of her +neighbours were so uncommonly like geese. But she thought most of all +of her husband, who in her eyes was the perfection of all manly +virtues. She had made up her mind that the position of a puisne judge +in England was the highest which could fall to the lot of any mere +mortal. To become a Lord Chancellor, or a Lord Chief Justice, or a +Chief Baron, a man must dabble with Parliament, politics, and dirt; +but the bench-fellows of these politicians were selected for their +wisdom, high conduct, knowledge, and discretion. Of all such +selections, that made by the late king when he chose her husband, was +the one which had done most honour to England, and had been in all +its results most beneficial to Englishmen. Such was her creed with +reference to domestic matters.</p> + +<p>The Staveley young people at present were only two in number, +Augustus, namely, and his sister Madeline. The eldest daughter was +married, and therefore, though she spent these Christmas holidays at +Noningsby, must not be regarded as one of the Noningsby family. Of +Augustus we have said enough; but as I intend that Madeline Staveley +shall, to many of my readers, be the most interesting personage in +this story, I must pause to say something of her. I must say +something of her; and as, with all women, the outward and visible +signs of grace and beauty are those which are thought of the most, or +at any rate spoken of the oftenest, I will begin with her exterior +attributes. And that the muses may assist me in my endeavour, +teaching my rough hands to draw with some accuracy the delicate lines +of female beauty, I now make to them my humble but earnest prayer.</p> + +<p>Madeline Staveley was at this time about nineteen years of age. That +she was perfect in her beauty I cannot ask the muses to say, but that +she will some day become so, I think the goddesses may be requested +to prophesy. At present she was very slight, and appeared to be +almost too tall for her form. She was indeed above the average height +of women, and from her brother encountered some ridicule on this +head; but not the less were all her movements soft, graceful, and +fawnlike as should be those of a young girl. She was still at this +time a child in heart and spirit, and could have played as a child +had not the instinct of a woman taught to her the expediency of a +staid demeanour. There is nothing among the wonders of womanhood more +wonderful than this, that the young mind and young heart,—hearts and +minds young as youth can make them, and in their natures as gay,—can +assume the gravity and discretion of threescore years and maintain it +successfully before all comers. And this is done, not as a lesson +that has been taught, but as the result of an instinct implanted from +the birth. Let us remember the mirth of our sisters in our homes, and +their altered demeanours when those homes were opened to strangers; +and remember also that this change had come from the inward working +of their own feminine natures!</p> + +<p>But I am altogether departing from Madeline Staveley's external +graces. It was a pity almost that she should ever have become grave, +because with her it was her smile that was so lovely. She smiled with +her whole face. There was at such moments a peculiar laughing light +in her gray eyes, which inspired one with an earnest desire to be in +her confidence; she smiled with her soft cheek, the light tints of +which would become a shade more pink from the excitement, as they +softly rippled into dimples; she smiled with her forehead which would +catch the light from her eyes and arch itself in its glory; but above +all she smiled with her mouth, just showing, but hardly showing, the +beauty of the pearls within. I never saw the face of a woman whose +mouth was equal in pure beauty, in beauty that was expressive of +feeling, to that of Madeline Staveley. Many have I seen with a richer +lip, with a more luxurious curve, much more tempting as baits to the +villainy and rudeness of man; but never one that told so much by its +own mute eloquence of a woman's happy heart and a woman's happy +beauty. It was lovely as I have said in its mirth, but if possible it +was still more lovely in its woe; for then the lips would separate, +and the breath would come, and in the emotion of her suffering the +life of her beauty would be unrestrained.</p> + +<p>Her face was oval, and some might say that it was almost too thin; +they might say so till they knew it well, but would never say so when +they did so know it. Her complexion was not clear, though it would be +wrong to call her a brunette. Her face and forehead were never brown, +but yet she could not boast the pure pink and the pearly white which +go to the formation of a clear complexion. For myself I am not sure +that I love a clear complexion. Pink and white alone will not give +that hue which seems best to denote light and life, and to tell of a +mind that thinks and of a heart that feels. I can name no colour in +describing the soft changing tints of Madeline Staveley's face, but I +will make bold to say that no man ever found it insipid or +inexpressive.</p> + +<p>And now what remains for me to tell? Her nose was Grecian, but +perhaps a little too wide at the nostril to be considered perfect in +its chiselling. Her hair was soft and brown,—that dark brown which +by some lights is almost black; but she was not a girl whose +loveliness depended much upon her hair. With some women it is their +great charm,—Neæras who love to sit half sleeping in the shade,—but +it is a charm that possesses no powerful eloquence. All beauty of a +high order should speak, and Madeline's beauty was ever speaking. And +now that I have said that, I believe that I have told all that may be +necessary to place her outward form before the inward eyes of my +readers.</p> + +<p>In commencing this description I said that I would begin with her +exterior; but it seems to me now that in speaking of these I have +sufficiently noted also that which was within. Of her actual thoughts +and deeds up to this period it is not necessary for our purposes that +anything should be told; but of that which she might probably think +or might possibly do, a fair guess may, I hope, be made from that +which has been already written.</p> + +<p>Such was the Staveley family. Those of their guests whom it is +necessary that I should now name, have been already introduced to us. +Miss Furnival was there, as was also her father. He had not intended +to make any prolonged stay at Noningsby,—at least so he had said in +his own drawing-room; but nevertheless he had now been there for a +week, and it seemed probable that he might stay over Christmas-day. +And Felix Graham was there. He had been asked with a special purpose +by his friend Augustus, as we already have heard; in order, namely, +that he might fall in love with Sophia Furnival, and by the aid of +her supposed hatful of money avoid the evils which would otherwise so +probably be the consequence of his highly impracticable turn of mind. +The judge was not averse to Felix Graham; but as he himself was a man +essentially practical in all his views, it often occurred that, in +his mild kindly way, he ridiculed the young barrister. And Sir +Peregrine Orme was there, being absent from home as on a very rare +occasion; and with him of course were Mrs. Orme and his grandson. +Young Perry was making, or was prepared to make, somewhat of a +prolonged stay at Noningsby. He had a horse there with him for the +hunting, which was changed now and again; his groom going backwards +and forwards between that place and The Cleeve. Sir Peregrine, +however, intended to return before Christmas, and Mrs. Orme would go +with him. He had come for four days, which for him had been a long +absence from home, and at the end of the four days he would be gone.</p> + +<p>They were all sitting in the dining-room round the luncheon-table on +a hopelessly wet morning, listening to a lecture from the judge on +the abomination of eating meat in the middle of the day, when a +servant came behind young Orme's chair and told him that Mr. Mason +was in the breakfast-parlour and wished to see him.</p> + +<p>"Who wishes to see you?" said the baronet in a tone of surprise. He +had caught the name, and thought at the moment that it was the owner +of Groby Park.</p> + +<p>"Lucius Mason," said Peregrine, getting up. "I wonder what he can +want me for?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius Mason," said the grandfather. Since the discourse about +agriculture he was not personally much attached even to Lucius; but +for his mother's sake he could be forgiven.</p> + +<p>"Pray ask him into lunch," said Lady Staveley. Something had been +said about Lady Mason since the Ormes had been at Noningsby, and the +Staveley family were prepared to regard her with sympathy, and if +necessary with the right hand of fellowship.</p> + +<p>"He is the great agriculturist, is he not?" said Augustus. "Bring him +in by all means; there is no knowing how much we may not learn before +dinner on such a day as this."</p> + +<p>"He is an ally of mine; and you must not laugh at him," said Miss +Furnival, who was sitting next to Augustus.</p> + +<p>But Lucius Mason did not come in. Young Orme remained with him for +about a quarter of an hour, and then returned to the room, declaring +with rather a serious face, that he must ride to Hamworth and back +before dinner.</p> + +<p>"Are you going with young Mason?" asked his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; he wishes me to do something for him at Hamworth, and I +cannot well refuse him."</p> + +<p>"You are not going to fight a duel!" said Lady Staveley, holding up +her hands in horror as the idea came across her brain.</p> + +<p>"A duel!" screamed Mrs. Orme. "Oh, Peregrine!"</p> + +<p>"There can be nothing of the sort," said the judge. "I should think +that young Mason is not so foolish; and I am sure that Peregrine Orme +is not."</p> + +<p>"I have not heard of anything of the kind," said Peregrine, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Promise me, Peregrine," said his mother. "Say that you promise me."</p> + +<p>"My dearest mother, I have no more thought of it than you +have;—indeed I may say not so much."</p> + +<p>"You will be back to dinner?" said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, certainly."</p> + +<p>"And tell Mr. Mason," said the judge, "that if he will return with +you we shall be delighted to see him."</p> + +<p>The errand which took Peregrine Orme off to Hamworth will be +explained in the next chapter, but his going led to a discussion +among the gentlemen after dinner as to the position in which Lady +Mason was now placed. There was no longer any possibility of keeping +the matter secret, seeing that Mr. Dockwrath had taken great care +that every one in Hamworth should hear of it. He had openly declared +that evidence would now be adduced to prove that Sir Joseph Mason's +widow had herself forged the will, and had said to many people that +Mr. Mason of Groby had determined to indict her for forgery. This had +gone so far that Lucius had declared as openly that he would +prosecute the attorney for a libel, and Dockwrath had sent him word +that he was quite welcome to do so if he pleased.</p> + +<p>"It is a scandalous state of things," said Sir Peregrine, speaking +with much enthusiasm, and no little temper, on the subject. "Here is +a question which was settled twenty years ago to the satisfaction of +every one who knew anything of the case, and now it is brought up +again that two men may wreak their vengeance on a poor widow. They +are not men; they are brutes."</p> + +<p>"But why does she not bring an action against this attorney?" said +young Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Such actions do not easily lie," said his father. "It may be quite +true that Dockwrath may have said all manner of evil things against +this lady, and yet it may be very difficult to obtain evidence of a +libel. It seems to me from what I have heard that the man himself +wishes such an action to be brought."</p> + +<p>"And think of the state of poor Lady Mason!" said Mr. Furnival. +"Conceive the misery which it would occasion her if she were dragged +forward to give evidence on such a matter!"</p> + +<p>"I believe it would kill her," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"The best means of assisting her would be to give her some +countenance," said the judge; "and from all that I can hear of her, +she deserves it."</p> + +<p>"She does deserve it," said Sir Peregrine, "and she shall have it. +The people at Hamworth shall see at any rate that my daughter regards +her as a fit associate. I am happy to say that she is coming to The +Cleeve on my return home, and that she will remain there till after +Christmas."</p> + +<p>"It is a very singular case," said Felix Graham, who had been +thinking over the position of the lady hitherto in silence.</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is," said the judge; "and it shows how careful men should +be in all matters relating to their wills. The will and the codicil, +as it appears, are both in the handwriting of the widow, who acted as +an amanuensis not only for her husband but for the attorney. That +fact does not in my mind produce suspicion; but I do not doubt that +it has produced all this suspicion in the mind of the claimant. The +attorney who advised Sir Joseph should have known better."</p> + +<p>"It is one of those cases," continued Graham, "in which the sufferer +should be protected by the very fact of her own innocence. No lawyer +should consent to take up the cudgels against her."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that she will not escape persecution from any such +professional chivalry," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"All that is moonshine," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"And moonshine is a very pretty thing if you were not too much afraid +of the night air to go and look at it. If the matter be as you all +say, I do think that any gentleman would disgrace himself by lending +a hand against her."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, sir, I fully agree with you," said Sir Peregrine, +bowing to Felix Graham over his glass.</p> + +<p>"I will take permission to think, Sir Peregrine," said Mr. Furnival, +"that you would not agree with Mr. Graham if you had given to the +matter much deep consideration."</p> + +<p>"I have not had the advantage of a professional education," said Sir +Peregrine, again bowing, and on this occasion addressing himself to +the lawyer; "but I cannot see how any amount of learning should alter +my views on such a subject."</p> + +<p>"Truth and honour cannot be altered by any professional +arrangements," said Graham; and then the conversation turned away +from Lady Mason, and directed itself to those great corrections of +legal reform which had been debated during the past autumn.</p> + +<p>The Orley Farm Case, though in other forms and different language, +was being discussed also in the drawing-room. "I have not seen much +of her," said Sophia Furnival, who by some art had usurped the most +prominent part in the conversation, "but what I did see I liked much. +She was at The Cleeve when I was staying there, if you remember, Mrs. +Orme." Mrs. Orme said that she did remember.</p> + +<p>"And we went over to Orley Farm. Poor lady! I think everybody ought +to notice her under such circumstances. Papa, I know, would move +heaven and earth for her if he could."</p> + +<p>"I cannot move the heaven or the earth either," said Lady Staveley; +"but if I thought that my calling on her would be any satisfaction to +<span class="nowrap">her—"</span></p> + +<p>"It would, Lady Staveley," said Mrs. Orme. "It would be a great +satisfaction to her. I cannot tell you how warmly I regard her, nor +how perfectly Sir Peregrine esteems her."</p> + +<p>"We will drive over there next week, Madeline."</p> + +<p>"Do, mamma. Everybody says that she is very nice."</p> + +<p>"It will be so kind of you, Lady Staveley," said Sophia Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Next week she will be staying with us," said Mrs. Orme. "And that +would save you three miles, you know, and we should be so glad to see +you."</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley declared that she would do both. She would call at The +Cleeve, and again at Orley Farm after Lady Mason's return home. She +well understood, though she could not herself then say so, that the +greater part of the advantage to be received from her kindness would +be derived from its being known at Hamworth that the Staveley +carriage had been driven up to Lady Mason's door.</p> + +<p>"Her son is very clever, is he not?" said Madeline, addressing +herself to Miss Furnival.</p> + +<p>Sophia shrugged her shoulders and put her head on one side with a +pretty grace. "Yes, I believe so. People say so. But who is to tell +whether a young man be clever or no?"</p> + +<p>"But some are so much more clever than others. Don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, as some girls are so much prettier than others. But if Mr. +Mason were to talk Greek to you, you would not think him clever."</p> + +<p>"I should not understand him, you know."</p> + +<p>"Of course not; but you would understand that he was a blockhead to +show off his learning in that way. You don't want him to be clever, +you see; you only want him to be agreeable."</p> + +<p>"I don't know that I want either the one or the other."</p> + +<p>"Do you not? I know I do. I think that young men in society are bound +to be agreeable, and that they should not be there if they do not +know how to talk pleasantly, and to give something in return for all +the trouble we take for them."</p> + +<p>"I don't take any trouble for them," said Madeline laughing.</p> + +<p>"Surely you must, if you only think of it. All ladies do, and so they +ought. But if in return for that a man merely talks Greek to me, I, +for my part, do not think that the bargain is fairly carried out."</p> + +<p>"I declare you will make me quite afraid of Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he never talks Greek;—at least he never has to me. I rather +like him. But what I mean is this, that I do not think a man a bit +more likely to be agreeable because he has the reputation of being +very clever. For my part I rather think that I like stupid young +men."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you? Then now I shall know what you think of Augustus. We +think he is very clever; but I do not know any man who makes himself +more popular with young ladies."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then he is a gay deceiver."</p> + +<p>"He is gay enough, but I am sure he is no deceiver. A man may make +himself nice to young ladies without deceiving any of them; may he +not?"</p> + +<p>"You must not take me 'au pied de la lettre,' Miss Staveley, or I +shall be lost. Of course he may. But when young gentlemen are so very +nice, young ladies are so apt +<span class="nowrap">to—"</span></p> + +<p>"To what?"</p> + +<p>"Not to fall in love with them exactly, but to be ready to be fallen +in love with, and then if a man does do it he is a deceiver. I +declare it seems to me that we don't allow them a chance of going +right."</p> + +<p>"I think that Augustus manages to steer through such difficulties +very cleverly."</p> + +<p>"He sails about in the open sea, touching at all the most lovely +capes and promontories, and is never driven on shore by stress of +weather! What a happy sailor he must be!"</p> + +<p>"I think he is happy, and that he makes others so."</p> + +<p>"He ought to be made an admiral at once But we shall hear some day of +his coming to a terrible shipwreck."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not!"</p> + +<p>"He will return home in desperate plight, with only two planks left +together, with all his glory and beauty broken and crumpled to pieces +against some rock that he has despised in his pride."</p> + +<p>"Why do you prophesy such terrible things for him?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that he will get married."</p> + +<p>"Get married! of course he will. That's just what we all want. You +don't call that a shipwreck; do you?"</p> + +<p>"It's the sort of shipwreck that these very gallant barks have to +encounter."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that he'll marry a disagreeable wife!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; not in the least. I only mean to say that like other sons of +Adam, he will have to strike his colours. I dare say, if the truth +were known, he has done so already."</p> + +<p>"I am sure he has not."</p> + +<p>"I don't at all ask to know his secrets, and I should look upon you +as a very bad sister if you told them."</p> + +<p>"But I am sure he has not got any,—of that kind."</p> + +<p>"Would he tell you if he had?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope so; any serious secret. I am sure he ought, for I am +always thinking about him."</p> + +<p>"And would you tell him your secrets?"</p> + +<p>"I have none."</p> + +<p>"But when you have, will you do so?"</p> + +<p>"Will I? Well, yes; I think so. But a girl has no such secret," she +continued to say, after pausing for a moment. "None, generally, at +least, which she tells, even to herself, till the time comes in which +she tells it to all whom she really loves." And then there was +another pause for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I am not quite so sure of that," said Miss Furnival. After which the +gentlemen came into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Augustus Staveley had gone to work in a manner which he conceived to +be quite systematic, having before him the praiseworthy object of +making a match between Felix Graham and Sophia Furnival. "By George, +Graham," he had said, "the finest girl in London is coming down to +Noningsby; upon my word I think she is."</p> + +<p>"And brought there expressly for your delectation, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not at all; indeed, she is not exactly in my style; she is +too,—too,—too—in point of fact, too much of a girl for me. She has +lots of money, and is very clever, and all that kind of thing."</p> + +<p>"I never knew you so humble before."</p> + +<p>"I am not joking at all. She is a daughter of old Furnival's, whom +by-the-by I hate as I do poison. Why my governor has him down at +Noningsby I can't guess. But I tell you what, old fellow, he can give +his daughter five-and-twenty thousand pounds. Think of that, Master +Brook." But Felix Graham was a man who could not bring himself to +think much of such things on the spur of the moment, and when he was +introduced to Sophia, he did not seem to be taken with her in any +wonderful way.</p> + +<p>Augustus had asked his mother to help him, but she had laughed at +him. "It would be a splendid arrangement," he had said with energy. +"Nonsense, Gus," she had answered. "You should always let those +things take their chance. All I will ask of you is that you don't +fall in love with her yourself; I don't think her family would be +nice enough for you."</p> + +<p>But Felix Graham certainly was ungrateful for the friendship spent +upon him, and so his friend felt it. Augustus had contrived to +whisper into the lady's ear that Mr. Graham was the cleverest young +man now rising at the bar, and as far as she was concerned, some +amount of intimacy might at any rate have been produced; but he, +Graham himself, would not put himself forward. "I will pique him into +it," said Augustus to himself, and therefore when on this occasion +they came into the drawing-room, Staveley immediately took a vacant +seat beside Miss Furnival, with the very friendly object which he had +proposed to himself.</p> + +<p>There was great danger in this, for Miss Furnival was certainly +handsome, and Augustus Staveley was very susceptible. But what will +not a man go through for his friend? "I hope we are to have the +honour of your company as far as Monkton Grange the day we meet +there," he said. The hounds were to meet at Monkton Grange, some +seven miles from Noningsby, and all the sportsmen from the house were +to be there.</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted," said Sophia, "that is to say if a seat in the +carriage can be spared for me."</p> + +<p>"But we'll mount you. I know that you are a horsewoman." In answer to +which Miss Furnival confessed that she was a horsewoman, and owned +also to having brought a habit and hat with her.</p> + +<p>"That will be delightful. Madeline will ride also, and you will meet +the Miss Tristrams. They are the famous horsewomen of this part of +the country."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that they go after the dogs, across the hedges."</p> + +<p>"Indeed they do."</p> + +<p>"And does Miss Staveley do that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—Madeline is not good at a five-barred gate, and would make +but a very bad hand at a double ditch. If you are inclined to remain +among the tame people, she will be true to your side."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly be one of the tame people, Mr. Staveley."</p> + +<p>"I rather think I shall be with you myself; I have only one horse +that will jump well, and Graham will ride him. By-the-by, Miss +Furnival, what do you think of my friend Graham?"</p> + +<p>"Think of him! Am I bound to have thought anything about him by this +time?"</p> + +<p>"Of course you are;—or at any rate of course you have. I have no +doubt that you have composed in your own mind an essay on the +character of everybody here. People who think at all always do."</p> + +<p>"Do they? My essay upon him then is a very short one."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps not the less correct on that account. You must allow me +to read it."</p> + +<p>"Like all my other essays of that kind, Mr. Staveley, it has been +composed solely for my own use, and will be kept quite private."</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry for that, for I intended to propose a bargain to you. +If you would have shown me some of your essays, I would have been +equally liberal with some of mine." And in this way, before the +evening was over, Augustus Staveley and Miss Furnival became very +good friends.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word she is a very clever girl," he said afterwards, as +young Orme and Graham were sitting with him in an outside room which +had been fitted up for smoking.</p> + +<p>"And uncommonly handsome," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"And they say she'll have lots of money," said Graham. "After all, +Staveley, perhaps you could not do better."</p> + +<p>"She's not my style at all," said he. "But of course a man is obliged +to be civil to girls in his own house." And then they all went to +bed.</p> + + +<p><a name="c20" id="c20"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> +<h3>MR. DOCKWRATH IN HIS OWN OFFICE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>In the conversation which had taken place after dinner at Noningsby +with regard to the Masons Peregrine Orme took no part, but his +silence had not arisen from any want of interest on the subject. He +had been over to Hamworth that day on a very special mission +regarding it, and as he was not inclined to speak of what he had then +seen and done, he held his tongue altogether.</p> + +<p>"I want you to do me a great favour," Lucius had said to him, when +the two were together in the breakfast-parlour at Noningsby; "but I +am afraid it will give you some trouble."</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't mind that," said Peregrine, "if that's all."</p> + +<p>"You have heard of this row about Joseph Mason and my mother? It has +been so talked of that I fear you must have heard it."</p> + +<p>"About the lawsuit? Oh yes. It has certainly been spoken of at The +Cleeve."</p> + +<p>"Of course it has. All the world is talking of it. Now there is a man +named Dockwrath in Hamworth—;" and then he went on to explain how it +had reached him from various quarters that Mr. Dockwrath was accusing +his mother of the crime of forgery; how he had endeavoured to +persuade his mother to indict the man for libel; how his mother had +pleaded to him with tears in her eyes that she found it impossible to +go through such an ordeal; and how he, therefore, had resolved to go +himself to Mr. Dockwrath. "But," said he, "I must have some one with +me, some gentleman whom I can trust, and therefore I have ridden over +to ask you to accompany me as far as Hamworth."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he is not a man that you can kick," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid not," said Lucius; "he's over forty years old, and has +dozens of children."</p> + +<p>"And then he is such a low beast," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"I have no idea of kicking him, but I think it would be wrong to +allow him to go on saying these frightful things of my mother, +without showing him that we are not afraid of him." Upon this the two +young men got on horseback, and riding into Hamworth, put their +horses up at the inn.</p> + +<p>"And now I suppose we might as well go at once," said Peregrine, with +a very serious face.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other; "there's nothing to delay us. I cannot tell +you how much obliged I am to you for coming with me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't say anything about that; of course I'm only too happy." +But all the same he felt that his heart was beating, and that he was +a little nervous. Had he been called upon to go in and thrash +somebody, he would have been quite at home; but he did not feel at +his ease in making an inimical visit to an attorney's office.</p> + +<p>It would have been wise, perhaps, if in this matter Lucius had +submitted himself to Lady Mason's wishes. On the previous evening +they had talked the matter over with much serious energy. Lucius had +been told in the streets of Hamworth by an intermeddling little +busybody of an apothecary that it behoved him to do something, as Mr. +Dockwrath was making grievous accusations against his mother. Lucius +had replied haughtily, that he and his mother would know how to +protect themselves, and the apothecary had retreated, resolving to +spread the report everywhere. Lucius on his return home had declared +to the unfortunate lady that she had now no alternative left to her. +She must bring an action against the man, or at any rate put the +matter into the hands of a lawyer with a view of ascertaining whether +she could do so with any chance of success. If she could not, she +must then make known her reason for remaining quiet. In answer to +this, Lady Mason had begun by praying her son to allow the matter to +pass by.</p> + +<p>"But it will not pass by," Lucius had said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dearest, if we leave it, it will,—in a month or two. We can do +nothing by interference. Remember the old saying, You cannot touch +pitch without being defiled."</p> + +<p>But Lucius had replied, almost with anger, that the pitch had already +touched him, and that he was defiled. "I cannot consent to hold the +property," he had said, "unless something be done." And then his +mother had bowed her head as she sat, and had covered her face with +her hands.</p> + +<p>"I shall go to the man myself," Lucius had declared with energy.</p> + +<p>"As your mother, Lucius, I implore you not to do so," she had said to +him through her tears.</p> + +<p>"I must either do that or leave the country. It is impossible that I +should live here, hearing such things said of you, and doing nothing +to clear your name." To this she had made no actual reply, and now he +was standing at the attorney's door about to do that which he had +threatened.</p> + +<p>They found Mr. Dockwrath sitting at his desk at the other side of +which was seated his clerk. He had not yet promoted himself to the +dignity of a private office, but generally used his parlour as such +when he was desirous of seeing his clients without disturbance. On +this occasion, however, when he saw young Mason enter, he made no +offer to withdraw. His hat was on his head as he sat on his stool, +and he did not even take it off as he returned the stiff salutation +of his visitor. "Keep your hat on your head, Mr. Orme," he said, as +Peregrine was about to take his off. "Well, gentlemen, what can I do +for you?"</p> + +<p>Lucius looked at the clerk, and felt that there would be great +difficulty in talking about his mother before such a witness. "We +wish to see you in private, Mr. Dockwrath, for a few minutes—if it +be convenient."</p> + +<p>"Is not this private enough?" said Dockwrath. "There is no one here +but my confidential clerk."</p> + +<p>"If you could make it convenient—" began Lucius.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Mr. Mason, I cannot make it convenient, and there is the +long and the short of it. You have brought Mr. Orme with you to hear +what you've got to say, and I choose that my clerk shall remain by to +hear it also. Seeing the position in which you stand there is no +knowing what may come of such an interview as this."</p> + +<p>"In what position do I stand, sir?"</p> + +<p>"If you don't know, Mr. Mason, I am not going to tell you. I feel for +you, I do upon my word. I feel for you, and I pity you." Mr. +Dockwrath as he thus expressed his commiseration was sitting with his +high chair tilted back, with his knees against the edge of his desk, +with his hat almost down upon his nose as he looked at his visitors +from under it, and he amused himself by cutting up a quill pen into +small pieces with his penknife. It was not pleasant to be pitied by +such a man as that, and so Peregrine Orme conceived.</p> + +<p>"Sir, that is nonsense," said Lucius. "I require no pity from you or +from any man."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there is one in all Hamworth that does not feel for +you," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"He means to be impudent," said Peregrine. "You had better come to +the point with him at once."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't mean to be impudent, young gentleman. A man may speak +his own mind in his own house I suppose without any impudence. You +wouldn't stand cap in hand to me if I were to go down to you at The +Cleeve."</p> + +<p>"I have come here to ask of you," said Lucius, "whether it be true +that you are spreading these reports about the town with reference to +Lady Mason. If you are a man you will tell me the truth."</p> + +<p>"Well; I rather think I am a man."</p> + +<p>"It is necessary that Lady Mason should be protected from such +infamous falsehoods, and it may be necessary to bring the matter into +a court of <span class="nowrap">law—"</span></p> + +<p>"You may be quite easy about that, Mr. Mason. It will be necessary."</p> + +<p>"As it may be necessary, I wish to know whether you will acknowledge +that these reports have come from you?"</p> + +<p>"You want me to give evidence against myself. Well, for once in a way +I don't mind if I do. The reports have come from me. Now, is that +manly?" And Mr. Dockwrath, as he spoke, pushed his hat somewhat off +his nose, and looked steadily across into the face of his opponent.</p> + +<p>Lucius Mason was too young for the task which he had undertaken, and +allowed himself to be disconcerted. He had expected that the lawyer +would deny the charge, and was prepared for what he would say and do +in such a case; but now he was not prepared.</p> + +<p>"How on earth could you bring yourself to be guilty of such +villainy?" said young Orme.</p> + +<p>"Highty-tighty! What are you talking about, young man? The fact is, +you do not know what you are talking about. But as I have a respect +for your grandfather and for your mother I will give you and them a +piece of advice, gratis. Don't let them be too thick with Lady Mason +till they see how this matter goes."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath," said Lucius, "you are a mean, low, vile scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir. Adams, just take a note of that. Don't mind what Mr. +Orme said. I can easily excuse him. He'll know the truth before long, +and then he'll beg my pardon."</p> + +<p>"I'll take my oath I look upon you as the greatest miscreant that +ever I met," said Peregrine, who was of course bound to support his +friend.</p> + +<p>"You'll change your mind, Mr. Orme, before long, and then you'll find +that you have met a worse miscreant than I am. Did you put down those +words, Adams?"</p> + +<p>"Them as Mr. Mason spoke? Yes; I've got them down."</p> + +<p>"Read them," said the master.</p> + +<p>And the clerk read them, "Mr. Dockwrath, you are a mean, low, vile +scoundrel."</p> + +<p>"And now, young gentlemen, if you have got nothing else to observe, +as I am rather busy, perhaps you will allow me to wish you good +morning."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Mr. Dockwrath," said Mason; "you may be sure that you +will hear further from me."</p> + +<p>"We shall be sure to hear of each other. There is no doubt in the +world about that," said the attorney. And then the two young men +withdrew with an unexpressed feeling in the mind of each of them, +that they had not so completely got the better of their antagonist as +the justice of their case demanded.</p> + +<p>They then remounted their horses, and Orme accompanied his friend as +far as Orley Farm, from whence he got into the Alston road through +The Cleeve grounds. "And what do you intend to do now?" said +Peregrine as soon as they were mounted.</p> + +<p>"I shall employ a lawyer," said he, "on my own footing; not my +mother's lawyer, but some one else. Then I suppose I shall be guided +by his advice." Had he done this before he made his visit to Mr. +Dockwrath, perhaps it might have been better. All this sat very +heavily on poor Peregrine's mind; and therefore as the company were +talking about Lady Mason after dinner, he remained silent, listening, +but not joining in the conversation.</p> + +<p>The whole of that evening Lucius and his mother sat together, saying +nothing. There was not absolutely any quarrel between them, but on +this terrible subject there was an utter want of accordance, and +almost of sympathy. It was not that Lucius had ever for a moment +suspected his mother of aught that was wrong. Had he done so he might +perhaps have been more gentle towards her in his thoughts and words. +He not only fully trusted her, but he was quite fixed in his +confidence that nothing could shake either her or him in their +rights. But under these circumstances he could not understand how she +could consent to endure without resistance the indignities which were +put upon her. "She should combat them for my sake, if not for her +own," he said to himself over and over again. And he had said so also +to her, but his words had had no effect.</p> + +<p>She, on the other hand, felt that he was cruel to her. She was +weighed down almost to the ground by these sufferings which had +fallen on her, and yet he would not be gentle and soft to her. She +could have borne it all, she thought, if he would have borne with +her. She still hoped that if she remained quiet no further trial +would take place. At any rate this might be so. That it would be so +she had the assurance of Mr. Furnival. And yet all this evil which +she dreaded worse than death was to be precipitated on her by her +son! So they sat through the long evening, speechless; each seated +with the pretence of reading, but neither of them capable of the +attention which a book requires.</p> + +<p>He did not tell her then that he had been with Mr. Dockwrath, but she +knew by his manner that he had taken some terrible step. She waited +patiently the whole evening, hoping that he would tell her, but when +the hour came for her to go up to her room he had told her nothing. +If he now were to turn against her, that would be worse than all! She +went up to her room and sat herself down to think. All that passed +through her brain on that night I may not now tell; but the grief +which pressed on her at this moment with peculiar weight was the +self-will and obstinacy of her boy. She said to herself that she +would be willing now to die,—to give back her life at once, if such +might be God's pleasure; but that her son should bring down her hairs +with shame and sorrow to the +<span class="nowrap">grave—!</span> In that thought there was a +bitterness of agony which she knew not how to endure!</p> + +<p>The next morning at breakfast he still remained silent, and his brow +was still black. "Lucius," she said, "did you do anything in that +matter yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother; I saw Mr. Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I took Peregrine Orme with me that I might have a witness, and I +then asked him whether he had spread these reports. He acknowledged +that he had done so, and I told him that he was a villain."</p> + +<p>Upon hearing this she uttered a long, low sigh, but she said nothing. +What use could there now be in her saying aught? Her look of agony +went to the young man's heart, but he still thought that he had been +right. "Mother," he continued to say, "I am very sorry to grieve you +in this way;—very sorry. But I could not hold up my head in +Hamworth,—I could not hold up my head anywhere, if I heard these +things said of you and did not resent it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Lucius, if you knew the weakness of a woman!"</p> + +<p>"And therefore you should let me bear it all. There is nothing I +would not suffer; no cost I would not undergo rather than you should +endure all this. If you would only say that you would leave it to +me!"</p> + +<p>"But it cannot be left to you. I have gone to a lawyer, to Mr. +Furnival. Why will you not permit that I should act in it as he +thinks best? Can you not believe that that will be the best for both +of us?"</p> + +<p>"If you wish it, I will see Mr. Furnival."</p> + +<p>Lady Mason did not wish that, but she was obliged so far to yield as +to say that he might do so if he would. Her wish was that he should +bear it all and say nothing. It was not that she was indifferent to +good repute among her neighbours, or that she was careless as to what +the apothecaries and attorneys said of her; but it was easier for her +to bear the evil than to combat it. The Ormes and the Furnivals would +support her. They and such-like persons would acknowledge her +weakness, and would know that from her would not be expected such +loud outbursting indignation as might be expected from a man. She had +calculated the strength of her own weakness, and thought that she +might still be supported by that,—if only her son would so permit.</p> + +<p>It was two days after this that Lucius was allowed the honour of a +conference by appointment with the great lawyer; and at the +expiration of an hour's delay he was shown into the room by Mr. +Crabwitz. "And, Crabwitz," said the barrister, before he addressed +himself to his young friend, "just run your eye over those papers, +and let Mr. Bideawhile have them to-morrow morning; and, +<span class="nowrap">Crabwitz—."</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"That opinion of Sir Richard's in the Ahatualpaca Mining Company—I +have not seen it, have I?"</p> + +<p>"It's all ready, Mr. Furnival."</p> + +<p>"I will look at it in five minutes. And now, my young friend, what +can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>It was quite clear from Mr. Furnival's tone and manner that he did +not mean to devote much time to Lucius Mason, and that he was not +generally anxious to hold any conversation with him on the subject in +question. Such, indeed, was the case. Mr. Furnival was determined to +pull Lady Mason out of the sea of trouble into which she had fallen, +let the effort cost him what it might, but he did not wish to do so +by the instrumentality, or even with the aid, of her son.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival," began Mason, "I want to ask your advice about these +dreadful reports which are being spread on every side in Hamworth +about my mother."</p> + +<p>"If you will allow me then to say so, I think that the course which +you should pursue is very simple. Indeed there is, I think, only one +course which you can pursue with proper deference to your mother's +feelings."</p> + +<p>"And what is that, Mr. Furnival?"</p> + +<p>"Do nothing, and say nothing. I fear from what I have heard that you +have already done and said much more than was prudent."</p> + +<p>"But how am I to hear such things as these spoken of my own mother?"</p> + +<p>"That depends on the people by whom the things are spoken. In this +world, if we meet a chimney-sweep in the path we do not hustle with +him for the right of way. Your mother is going next week to The +Cleeve. It was only yesterday that I heard that the Noningsby people +are going to call on her. You can hardly, I suppose, desire for your +mother better friends than such as these. And can you not understand +why such people gather to her at this moment? If you can understand +it you will not trouble yourself to interfere much more with Mr. +Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>There was a rebuke in this which Lucius Mason was forced to endure; +but nevertheless as he retreated disconcerted from the barrister's +chambers, he could not bring himself to think it right that such +calumny should be borne without resistance. He knew but little as yet +of the ordinary life of gentlemen in England; but he did know,—so at +least he thought,—that it was the duty of a son to shield his mother +from insult and libel.</p> + + +<p><a name="c21" id="c21"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> +<h3>CHRISTMAS IN HARLEY STREET.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It seems singular to me myself, considering the idea which I have in +my own mind of the character of Lady Staveley, that I should be +driven to declare that about this time she committed an unpardonable +offence, not only against good nature, but also against the domestic +proprieties. But I am driven so to say, although she herself was of +all women the most good-natured and most domestic; for she asked Mr. +Furnival to pass his Christmas-day at Noningsby, and I find it +impossible to forgive her that offence against the poor wife whom in +that case he must leave alone by her desolate hearth. She knew that +he was a married man as well as I do. Sophia, who had a proper regard +for the domestic peace of her parents, and who could have been happy +at Noningsby without a father's care, not unfrequently spoke of her, +so that her existence in Harley Street might not be forgotten by the +Staveleys—explaining, however, as she did so, that her dear mother +never left her own fireside in winter, so that no suspicion might be +entertained that an invitation was desired for her also; +nevertheless, in spite of all this, on two separate occasions did +Lady Staveley say to Mr. Furnival that he might as well prolong his +visit over Christmas.</p> + +<p>And yet Lady Staveley was not attached to Mr. Furnival with any +peculiar warmth of friendship; but she was one of those women whose +foolish hearts will not allow themselves to be controlled in the +exercise of their hospitality. Her nature demanded of her that she +should ask a guest to stay. She would not have allowed a dog to +depart from her house at this season of the year, without suggesting +to him that he had better take his Christmas bone in her yard. It was +for Mr. Furnival to adjust all matters between himself and his wife. +He was not bound to accept the invitation because she gave it; but +she, finding him there, already present in the house, did feel +herself bound to give it;—for which offence, as I have said before, +I cannot bring myself to forgive her.</p> + +<p>At his sin in staying away from home, or rather—as far as the story +has yet carried us—in thinking that he would do so, I am by no means +so much surprised. An angry ill-pleased wife is no pleasant companion +for a gentleman on a long evening. For those who have managed that +things shall run smoothly over the domestic rug there is no happier +time of life than these long candlelight hours of home and silence. +No spoken content or uttered satisfaction is necessary. The fact that +is felt is enough for peace. But when the fact is not felt; when the +fact is by no means there; when the thoughts are running in a +direction altogether different; when bitter grievances from one to +the other fill the heart, rather than memories of mutual kindness; +then, I say, those long candlelight hours of home and silence are not +easy of endurance. Mr. Furnival was a man who chose to be the master +of his own destiny, so at least to himself he boasted; and therefore +when he found himself encountered by black looks and occasionally by +sullen words, he declared to himself that he was ill-used and that he +would not bear it. Since the domestic rose would no longer yield him +honey, he would seek his sweets from the stray honeysuckle on which +there grew no thorns.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival was no coward. He was not one of those men who wrong +their wives by their absence, and then prolong their absence because +they are afraid to meet their wives. His resolve was to be free +himself, and to be free without complaint from her. He would have it +so, that he might remain out of his own house for a month at the time +and then return to it for a week—at any rate without outward +bickerings. I have known other men who have dreamed of such a state +of things, but at this moment I can remember none who have brought +their dream to bear.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival had written to his wife,—not from Noningsby, but from +some provincial town, probably situated among the Essex +marshes,—saying various things, and among others that he should not, +as he thought, be at home at Christmas-day. Mrs. Furnival had +remarked about a fortnight since that Christmas-day was nothing to +her now; and the base man, for it was base, had hung upon this poor, +sore-hearted word an excuse for remaining away from home. "There are +lawyers of repute staying at Noningsby," he had said, "with whom it +is very expedient that I should remain at this present crisis."—When +yet has there been no crisis present to a man who has wanted an +excuse?—"And therefore I may probably stay,"—and so on. Who does +not know the false mixture of excuse and defiance which such a letter +is sure to maintain; the crafty words which may be taken as adequate +reason if the receiver be timid enough so to receive them, or as a +noisy gauntlet thrown to the ground if there be spirit there for the +picking of it up? Such letter from his little borough in the Essex +marshes did Mr. Furnival write to the partner of his cares, and there +was still sufficient spirit left for the picking up of the gauntlet. +"I shall be home to-morrow," the letter had gone on to say, "but I +will not keep you waiting for dinner, as my hours are always so +uncertain. I shall be at my chambers till late, and will be with you +before tea. I will then return to Alston on the following morning." +There was at any rate good courage in this on the part of Mr. +Furnival;—great courage; but with it coldness of heart, dishonesty +of purpose, and black ingratitude. Had she not given everything to +him?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival when she got the letter was not alone. "There," said +she; throwing it over to a lady who sat on the other side of the +fireplace handling a loose sprawling mass of not very clean +crochet-work. "I knew he would stay away on Christmas-day. I told you +so."</p> + +<p>"I didn't think it possible," said Miss Biggs, rolling up the big +ball of soiled cotton, that she might read Mr. Furnival's letter at +her leisure. "I didn't really think it possible—on Christmas-day! +Surely, Mrs. Furnival, he can't mean Christmas-day? Dear, dear, dear! +and then to throw it in your face in that way that you said you +didn't care about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course I said so," answered Mrs. Furnival. "I was not going to +ask him to come home as a favour."</p> + +<p>"Not to make a favour of it, of course not." This was Miss Biggs from +<span class="nowrap">——.</span> I am afraid if +I tell the truth I must say that she came from +Red Lion Square! And yet nothing could be more respectable than Miss +Biggs. Her father had been a partner with an uncle of Mrs. +Furnival's; and when Kitty Blacker had given herself and her young +prettinesses to the hardworking lawyer, Martha Biggs had stood at the +altar with her, then just seventeen years of age, and had promised to +her all manner of success for her coming life. Martha Biggs had +never, not even then, been pretty; but she had been very faithful. +She had not been a favourite with Mr. Furnival, having neither wit +nor grace to recommend her, and therefore in the old happy days of +Keppel Street she had been kept in the background; but now, in this +present time of her adversity, Mrs. Furnival found the benefit of +having a trusty friend.</p> + +<p>"If he likes better to be with these people down at Alston, I am sure +it is the same to me," said the injured wife.</p> + +<p>"But there's nobody special at Alston, is there?" asked Miss Biggs, +whose soul sighed for a tale more piquant than one of mere general +neglect. She knew that her friend had dreadful suspicions, but Mrs. +Furnival had never as yet committed herself by uttering the name of +any woman as her rival. Miss Biggs thought that a time had now come +in which the strength of their mutual confidence demanded that such +name should be uttered. It could not be expected that she should +sympathise with generalities for ever. She longed to hate, to +reprobate, and to shudder at the actual name of the wretch who had +robbed her friend of a husband's heart. And therefore she asked the +question, "There's nobody special at Alston, is there?"</p> + +<p>Now Mrs. Furnival knew to a furlong the distance from Noningsby to +Orley Farm, and knew also that the station at Hamworth was only +twenty-five minutes from that at Alston. She gave no immediate +answer, but threw up her head and shook her nostrils, as though she +were preparing for war; and then Miss Martha Biggs knew that there +was somebody special at Alston. Between such old friends why should +not the name be mentioned?</p> + +<p>On the following day the two ladies dined at six, and then waited tea +patiently till ten. Had the thirst of a desert been raging within +that drawing-room, and had tea been within immediate call, those +ladies would have died ere they would have asked for it before his +return. He had said he would be home to tea, and they would have +waited for him, had it been till four o'clock in the morning! Let the +female married victim ever make the most of such positive wrongs as +Providence may vouchsafe to her. Had Mrs. Furnival ordered tea on +this evening before her husband's return, she would have been a woman +blind to the advantages of her own position. At ten the wheels of Mr. +Furnival's cab were heard, and the faces of both the ladies prepared +themselves for the encounter.</p> + +<p>"Well, Kitty, how are you?" said Mr. Furnival, entering the room with +his arms prepared for a premeditated embrace. "What, Miss Biggs with +you? I did not know. How do you do, Miss Biggs?" and Mr. Furnival +extended his hand to the lady. They both looked at him, and they +could tell from the brightness of his eye and from the colour of his +nose that he had been dining at his club, and that the bin with the +precious cork had been visited on his behalf.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, it's rather lonely being here in this big room all by +oneself so long; so I asked Martha Biggs to come over to me. I +suppose there's no harm in that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I'm in the way," began Miss Biggs, "or if Mr. Furnival is +going to stay at home for <span class="nowrap">long—"</span></p> + +<p>"You are not in the way, and I am not going to stay at home for +long," said Mr. Furnival, speaking with a voice that was perhaps a +little thick,—only a very little thick. No wife on good terms with +her husband would have deigned to notice, even in her own mind, an +amount of thickness of voice which was so very inconsiderable. But +Mrs. Furnival at the present moment did notice it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I did not know," said Miss Biggs.</p> + +<p>"You know now," said Mr. Furnival, whose ear at once appreciated the +hostility of tone which had been assumed.</p> + +<p>"You need not be rude to my friend after she has been waiting tea for +you till near eleven o'clock," said Mrs. Furnival. "It is nothing to +me, but you should remember that she is not used to it."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't rude to your friend, and who asked you to wait tea till +near eleven o'clock? It is only just ten now, if that signifies."</p> + +<p>"You expressly desired me to wait tea, Mr. Furnival. I have got your +letter, and will show it you if you wish it."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense; I just said I should be home—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you just said you would be home, and so we waited; and +it's not nonsense; and I +<span class="nowrap">declare—!</span> Never mind, Martha, don't mind +me, there's a good creature. I shall get over it soon;" and then fat, +solid, good-humoured Mrs. Furnival burst out into an hysterical fit +of sobbing. There was a welcome for a man on his return to his home +after a day's labour!</p> + +<p>Miss Biggs immediately got up and came round behind the drawing-room +table to her friend's head. "Be calm, Mrs. Furnival," she said; "do +be calm, and then you will be better soon. Here is the hartshorn."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter, Martha: never mind: leave me alone," sobbed the +poor woman.</p> + +<p>"May I be excused for asking what is really the matter?" said Mr. +Furnival, "for I'll be whipped if I know." Miss Biggs looked at him +as if she thought that he ought to be whipped.</p> + +<p>"I wonder you ever come near the place at all, I do," said Mrs. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>"What place?" asked Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"This house in which I am obliged to live by myself, without a soul +to speak to, unless when Martha Biggs comes here."</p> + +<p>"Which would be much more frequent, only that I know I am not welcome +by everybody."</p> + +<p>"I know that you hate it. How can I help knowing it?—and you hate me +too; I know you do;—and I believe you would be glad if you need +never come back here at all; I do. Don't, Martha; leave me alone. I +don't want all that fuss. There; I can bear it now, whatever it is. +Do you choose to have your tea, Mr. Furnival? or do you wish to keep +the servants waiting out of their beds all night?"</p> + +<p>"D—— the servants," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Oh laws!" exclaimed Miss Biggs, jumping up out of her chair with her +hands and fingers outstretched, as though never, never in her life +before, had her ears been wounded by such wicked words as those.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival, I am ashamed of you," said his wife with gathered +calmness of stern reproach.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival was very wrong to swear; doubly wrong to swear before +his wife; trebly wrong to swear before a lady visitor; but it must be +confessed that there was provocation. That he was at this present +period of his life behaving badly to his wife must be allowed, but on +this special evening he had intended to behave well. The woman had +sought a ground of quarrel against him, and had driven him on till he +had forgotten himself in his present after-dinner humour. When a man +is maintaining a whole household on his own shoulders, and working +hard to maintain it well, it is not right that he should be brought +to book because he keeps the servants up half an hour later than +usual to wash the tea-things. It is very proper that the idle members +of the establishment should conform to hours, but these hours must +give way to his requirements. In those old days of which we have +spoken so often he might have had his tea at twelve, one, two, or +three without a murmur. Though their staff of servants then was +scanty enough, there was never a difficulty then in supplying any +such want for him. If no other pair of hands could boil the kettle, +there was one pair of hands there which no amount of such work on his +behalf could tire. But now, because he had come in for his tea at ten +o'clock, he was asked if he intended to keep the servants out of +their beds all night!</p> + +<p>"Oh laws!" said Miss Biggs, jumping up from her chair as though she +had been electrified.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival did not think it consistent with his dignity to keep up +any dispute in the presence of Miss Biggs, and therefore sat himself +down in his accustomed chair without further speech. "Would you wish +to have tea now, Mr. Furnival?" asked his wife again, putting +considerable stress upon the word now.</p> + +<p>"I don't care about it," said he.</p> + +<p>"And I am sure I don't at this late hour," said Miss Biggs. "But so +tired as you are, <span class="nowrap">dear—"</span></p> + +<p>"Never mind me, Martha; as for myself, I shall take nothing now." And +then they all sat without a word for the space of some five minutes. +"If you like to go, Martha," said Mrs. Furnival, "don't mind waiting +for me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," and then Miss Biggs took her bedcandle and left the +room. Was it not hard upon her that she should be forced to absent +herself at this moment, when the excitement of the battle was about +to begin in earnest? Her footsteps lingered as she slowly retreated +from the drawing-room door, and for one instant she absolutely +paused, standing still with eager ears. It was but for an instant, +and then she went on up stairs, out of hearing, and sitting herself +down by her bedside allowed the battle to rage in her imagination.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival would have sat there silent till his wife had gone also, +and so the matter would have terminated for that evening,—had she so +willed it. But she had been thinking of her miseries; and, having +come to some sort of resolution to speak of them openly, what time +could she find more appropriate for doing so than the present? "Tom," +she said,—and as she spoke there was still a twinkle of the old love +in her eye, "we are not going on together as well as we should +do,—not lately. Would it not be well to make a change before it is +too late?"</p> + +<p>"What change?" he asked; not exactly in an ill humour, but with a +husky, thick voice. He would have preferred now that she should have +followed her friend to bed.</p> + +<p>"I do not want to dictate to you, Tom, but—! Oh Tom, if you knew how +wretched I am!"</p> + +<p>"What makes you wretched?"</p> + +<p>"Because you leave me all alone; because you care more for other +people than you do for me; because you never like to be at home, +never if you can possibly help it. You know you don't. You are always +away now upon some excuse or other; you know you are. I don't have +you home to dinner not one day in the week through the year. That +can't be right, and you know it is not. Oh Tom! you are breaking my +heart, and deceiving me,—you are. Why did I go down and find that +woman in your chamber with you, when you were ashamed to own to me +that she was coming to see you? If it had been in the proper way of +law business, you wouldn't have been ashamed. Oh, Tom!"</p> + +<p>The poor woman had begun her plaint in a manner that was not +altogether devoid of a discreet eloquence. If only she could have +maintained that tone, if she could have confined her words to the +tale of her own grievances, and have been contented to declare that +she was unhappy, only because he was not with her, it might have been +well. She might have touched his heart, or at any rate his +conscience, and there might have been some enduring result for good. +But her feelings had been too many for her, and as her wrongs came to +her mind, and the words heaped themselves upon her tongue, she could +not keep herself from the one subject which she should have left +untouched. Mr. Furnival was not the man to bear any interference such +as this, or to permit the privacy of Lincoln's Inn to be invaded even +by his wife. His brow grew very black, and his eyes became almost +bloodshot. The port wine which might have worked him to softness, now +worked him to anger, and he thus burst forth with words of marital +vigour:</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you once for ever, Kitty, that I will admit of no +interference with what I do, or the people whom I may choose to see +in my chambers in Lincoln's Inn. If you are such an infatuated +simpleton as to <span class="nowrap">believe—"</span></p> + +<p>"Yes; of course I am a simpleton; of course I am a fool; women always +are."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, yes; it's my business to listen. Would you like that I +should give this house up for her, and go into lodgings somewhere? I +shall have very little objection as matters are going now. Oh dear, +oh dear, that things should ever have come to this!"</p> + +<p>"Come to what?"</p> + +<p>"Tom, I could put up with a great deal,—more I think than most +women; I could slave for you like a drudge, and think nothing about +it. And now that you have got among grand people, I could see you go +out by yourself without thinking much about that either. I am very +lonely sometimes,—very; but I could bear that. Nobody has longed to +see you rise in the world half so anxious as I have done. But, Tom, +when I know what your goings on are with a nasty, sly, false woman +like that, I won't bear it; and there's an end." In saying which +final words Mrs. Furnival rose from her seat, and thrice struck her +hand by no means lightly on the loo table in the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>"I did not think it possible that you should be so silly. I did not +indeed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, silly! very well. Women always are silly when they mind +that kind of thing. Have you got anything else to say, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have; I have this to say, that I will not endure this sort of +usage."</p> + +<p>"Nor I won't," said Mrs. Furnival; "so you may as well understand it +at once. As long as there was nothing absolutely wrong, I would put +up with it for the sake of appearances, and because of Sophia. For +myself I don't mind what loneliness I may have to bear. If you had +been called on to go out to the East Indies or even to China, I could +have put up with it. But this sort of thing I won't put up with;—nor +I won't be blind to what I can't help seeing. So now, Mr. Furnival, +you may know that I have made up my mind." And then, without waiting +further parley, having wisked herself in her energy near to the door, +she stalked out, and went up with hurried steps to her own room.</p> + +<p>Occurrences of a nature such as this are in all respects unpleasant +in a household. Let the master be ever so much master, what is he to +do? Say that his wife is wrong from the beginning to the end of the +quarrel,—that in no way improves the matter. His anxiety is that the +world abroad shall not know he has ought amiss at home; but she, with +her hot sense of injury, and her loud revolt against supposed wrongs, +cares not who hears it. "Hold your tongue, madam," the husband says. +But the wife, bound though she be by an oath of obedience, will not +obey him, but only screams the louder.</p> + +<p>All which, as Mr. Furnival sat there thinking of it, disturbed his +mind much. That Martha Biggs would spread the tale through all +Bloomsbury and St. Pancras of course he was aware. "If she drives me +to it, it must be so," he said to himself at last. And then he also +betook himself to his rest. And so it was that preparations for +Christmas were made in Harley Street.</p> + + +<p><a name="c22" id="c22"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> +<h3>CHRISTMAS AT NONINGSBY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The house at Noningsby on Christmas-day was quite full, and yet it +was by no means a small house. Mrs. Arbuthnot, the judge's married +daughter, was there, with her three children; and Mr. Furnival was +there, having got over those domestic difficulties in which we lately +saw him as best he might; and Lucius Mason was there, having been +especially asked by Lady Staveley when she heard that his mother was +to be at The Cleeve. There could be no more comfortable country-house +than Noningsby; and it was, in its own way, pretty, though +essentially different in all respects from The Cleeve. It was a new +house from the cellar to the ceiling, and as a house was no doubt the +better for being so. All the rooms were of the proper proportion, and +all the newest appliances for comfort had been attached to it. But +nevertheless it lacked that something, in appearance rather than in +fact, which age alone can give to the residence of a gentleman in the +country. The gardens also were new, and the grounds around them trim, +and square, and orderly. Noningsby was a delightful house; no one +with money and taste at command could have created for himself one +more delightful; but then there are delights which cannot be created +even by money and taste.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant sight to see, the long, broad, well-filled +breakfast table, with all that company round it. There were some +eighteen or twenty gathered now at the table, among whom the judge +sat pre-eminent, looming large in an arm-chair and having a double +space allotted to him;—some eighteen or twenty, children included. +At the bottom of the table sat Lady Staveley, who still chose to +preside among her own tea cups as a lady should do; and close to her, +assisting in the toils of that presidency, sat her daughter Madeline. +Nearest to them were gathered the children, and the rest had formed +themselves into little parties, each of which already well knew its +own place at the board. In how very short a time will come upon one +that pleasant custom of sitting in an accustomed place! But here, at +these Noningsby breakfasts, among other customs already established, +there was one by which Augustus Staveley was always privileged to sit +by the side of Sophia Furnival. No doubt his original object was +still unchanged. A match between that lady and his friend Graham was +still desirable, and by perseverance he might pique Felix Graham to +arouse himself. But hitherto Felix Graham had not aroused himself in +that direction, and one or two people among the party were inclined +to mistake young Staveley's intentions.</p> + +<p>"Gus," his sister had said to him the night before, "I declare I +think you are going to make love to Sophia Furnival."</p> + +<p>"Do you?" he had replied. "As a rule I do not think there is any one +in the world for whose discernment I have so much respect as I have +for yours. But in this respect even you are wrong."</p> + +<p>"Ah, of course you say so."</p> + +<p>"If you won't believe me, ask her. What more can I say?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly sha'n't ask her, for I don't know her well enough."</p> + +<p>"She's a very clever girl; let me tell you that, whoever falls in +love with her."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she is, and she is handsome too, very; but for all that she +is not good enough for our Gus."</p> + +<p>"Of course she is not, and therefore I am not thinking of her. And +now go to bed and dream that you have got the Queen of the Fortunate +Islands for your sister-in-law."</p> + +<p>But although Staveley was himself perfectly indifferent to all the +charms of Miss Furnival, nevertheless he could hardly restrain his +dislike to Lucius Mason, who, as he thought, was disposed to admire +the lady in question. In talking of Lucius to his own family and to +his special friend Graham, he had called him conceited, pedantic, +uncouth, unenglish, and detestable. His own family, that is, his +mother and sister, rarely contradicted him in anything; but Graham +was by no means so cautious, and usually contradicted him in +everything. Indeed, there was no sign of sterling worth so plainly +marked in Staveley's character as the full conviction which he +entertained of the superiority of his friend Felix.</p> + +<p>"You are quite wrong about him," Felix had said. "He has not been at +an English school, or English university, and therefore is not like +other young men that you know; but he is, I think, well educated and +clever. As for conceit, what man will do any good who is not +conceited? Nobody holds a good opinion of a man who has a low opinion +of himself."</p> + +<p>"All the same, my dear fellow, I do not like Lucius Mason."</p> + +<p>"And some one else, if you remember, did not like Dr. Fell."</p> + +<p>"And now, good people, what are you all going to do about church?" +said Staveley, while they were still engaged with their rolls and +eggs.</p> + +<p>"I shall walk," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"And I shall go in the carriage," said the judge's wife.</p> + +<p>"That disposes of two; and now it will take half an hour to settle +for the rest. Miss. Furnival, you no doubt will accompany my mother. +As I shall be among the walkers you will see how much I sacrifice by +the suggestion."</p> + +<p>It was a mile to the church, and Miss Furnival knew the advantage of +appearing in her seat unfatigued and without subjection to wind, mud, +or rain. "I must confess," she said, "that under all the +circumstances, I shall prefer your mother's company to yours;" +whereupon Staveley, in the completion of his arrangements, assigned +the other places in the carriage to the married ladies of the +company.</p> + +<p>"But I have taken your sister Madeline's seat in the carriage," +protested Sophia with great dismay.</p> + +<p>"My sister Madeline generally walks."</p> + +<p>"Then of course I shall walk with her;" but when the time came Miss +Furnival did go in the carriage whereas Miss Staveley went on foot.</p> + +<p>It so fell out, as they started, that Graham found himself walking at +Miss Staveley's side, to the great disgust, no doubt, of half a dozen +other aspirants for that honour. "I cannot help thinking," he said, +as they stepped briskly over the crisp white frost, "that this +Christmas-day of ours is a great mistake."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham!" she exclaimed</p> + +<p>"You need not regard me with horror,—at least not with any special +horror on this occasion."</p> + +<p>"But what you say is very horrid."</p> + +<p>"That, I flatter myself, seems so only because I have not yet said +it. That part of our Christmas-day which is made to be in any degree +sacred is by no means a mistake."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you think that."</p> + +<p>"Or rather, it is not a mistake in as far as it is in any degree made +sacred. But the peculiar conviviality of the day is so ponderous! Its +roast-beefiness oppresses one so thoroughly from the first moment of +one's waking, to the last ineffectual effort at a bit of fried +pudding for supper!"</p> + +<p>"But you need not eat fried pudding for supper. Indeed, here, I am +afraid, you will not have any supper offered you at all."</p> + +<p>"No; not to me individually, under that name. I might also manage to +guard my own self under any such offers. But there is always the +flavour of the sweetmeat, in the air,—of all the sweetmeats edible +and non-edible."</p> + +<p>"You begrudge the children their snap-dragon. That's what it all +means, Mr. Graham."</p> + +<p>"No; I deny it; unpremeditated snap-dragon is dear to my soul; and I +could expend myself in blindman's buff."</p> + +<p>"You shall then, after dinner; for of course you know that we all +dine early."</p> + +<p>"But blindman's buff at three, with snap-dragon at a quarter to +four—charades at five, with wine and sweet cake at half-past six, is +ponderous. And that's our mistake. The big turkey would be very +good;—capital fun to see a turkey twice as big as it ought to be! +But the big turkey, and the mountain of beef, and the pudding +weighing a hundredweight, oppress one's spirits by their combined +gravity. And then they impart a memory of indigestion, a halo as it +were of apoplexy, even to the church services."</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with you the least in the world."</p> + +<p>"I ask you to answer me fairly. Is not additional eating an ordinary +Englishman's ordinary idea of Christmas-day?"</p> + +<p>"I am only an ordinary Englishwoman and therefore cannot say. It is +not my idea."</p> + +<p>"I believe that the ceremony, as kept by us, is perpetuated by the +butchers and beersellers, with a helping hand from the grocers. It is +essentially a material festival; and I would not object to it even on +that account if it were not so grievously overdone. How the sun is +moistening the frost on the ground. As we come back the road will be +quite wet."</p> + +<p>"We shall be going home then and it will not signify. Remember, Mr. +Graham, I shall expect you to come forward in great strength for +blindman's buff." As he gave her the required promise, he thought +that even the sports of Christmas-day would be bearable, if she also +were to make one of the sportsmen; and then they entered the church.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill22a" id="ill22a"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill22a.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill22a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Christmas at Noningsby—Morning." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Christmas at Noningsby—Morning.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill22a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>I do not know of anything more pleasant to the eye than a pretty +country church, decorated for Christmas-day. The effect in a city is +altogether different. I will not say that churches there should not +be decorated, but comparatively it is a matter of indifference. No +one knows who does it. The peculiar munificence of the squire who has +sacrificed his holly bushes is not appreciated. The work of the +fingers that have been employed is not recognised. The efforts made +for hanging the pendent wreaths to each capital have been of no +special interest to any large number of the worshippers. It has been +done by contract, probably, and even if well done has none of the +grace of association. But here at Noningsby church, the winter +flowers had been cut by Madeline and the gardener, and the red +berries had been grouped by her own hands. She and the vicar's wife +had stood together with perilous audacity on the top of the clerk's +desk while they fixed the branches beneath the cushion of the +old-fashioned turret, from which the sermons were preached. And all +this had of course been talked about at the house; and some of the +party had gone over to see, including Sophia Furnival, who had +declared that nothing could be so delightful, though she had omitted +to endanger her fingers by any participation in the work. And the +children had regarded the operation as a triumph of all that was +wonderful in decoration; and thus many of them had been made happy.</p> + +<p>On their return from church, Miss Furnival insisted on walking, in +order, as she said, that Miss Staveley might not have all the +fatigue; but Miss Staveley would walk also, and the carriage, after a +certain amount of expostulation and delay, went off with its load +incomplete.</p> + +<p>"And now for the plum-pudding part of the arrangement," said Felix +Graham.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Graham," said Madeline, "now for the plum-pudding—and the +blindman's buff."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see anything more perfect than the church, Mr. Mason?" +said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"Anything more perfect? no; in that sort of way, perhaps, never. I +have seen the choir of Cologne."</p> + +<p>"Come, come; that's not fair," said Graham. "Don't import Cologne in +order to crush us here down in our little English villages. You never +saw the choir of Cologne bright with holly berries."</p> + +<p>"No; but I have with cardinal's stockings, and bishop's robes."</p> + +<p>"I think I should prefer the holly," said Miss Furnival. "And why +should not our churches always look like that, only changing the +flowers and the foliage with the season? It would make the service so +attractive."</p> + +<p>"It would hardly do at Lent," said Madeline, in a serious tone.</p> + +<p>"No, perhaps not at Lent exactly."</p> + +<p>Peregrine and Augustus Staveley were walking on in front, not perhaps +as well satisfied with the day as the rest of the party. Augustus, on +leaving the church, had made a little effort to assume his place as +usual by Miss Furnival's side, but by some accident of war, Mason was +there before him. He had not cared to make one of a party of three, +and therefore had gone on in advance with young Orme. Nor was +Peregrine himself much more happy. He did not know why, but he felt +within his breast a growing aversion to Felix Graham. Graham was a +puppy, he thought, and a fellow that talked too much; and then he was +such a confoundedly ugly dog, and—and—and—Peregrine Orme did not +like him. He was not a man to analyze his own feelings in such +matters. He did not ask himself why he should have been rejoiced to +hear that instant business had taken Felix Graham off to Hong Kong; +but he knew that he would have rejoiced. He knew also that Madeline +Staveley <span class="nowrap">was—.</span> No; he did not +know what she was; but when he was +alone, he carried on with her all manner of imaginary conversations, +though when he was in her company he had hardly a word to say to her. +Under these circumstances he fraternized with her brother; but even +in that he could not receive much satisfaction, seeing that he could +not abuse Graham to Graham's special friend, nor could he breathe a +sigh as to Madeline's perfections into the ear of Madeline's brother.</p> + +<p>The children,—and there were three or four assembled there besides +those belonging to Mrs. Arbuthnot, were by no means inclined to agree +with Mr. Graham's strictures as to the amusements of Christmas-day. +To them it appeared that they could not hurry fast enough into the +vortex of its dissipations. The dinner was a serious consideration, +especially with reference to certain illuminated mince-pies which +were the crowning glory of that banquet; but time for these was +almost begrudged in order that the fast handkerchief might be tied +over the eyes of the first blindman.</p> + +<p>"And now we'll go into the schoolroom," said Marian Arbuthnot, +jumping up and leading the way. "Come along, Mr. Felix," and Felix +Graham followed her.</p> + +<p>Madeline had declared that Felix Graham should be blinded first, and +such was his doom. "Now mind you catch me, Mr. Felix; pray do," said +Marian, when she had got him seated in a corner of the room. She was +a beautiful fair little thing, with long, soft curls, and lips red as +a rose, and large, bright blue eyes, all soft and happy and laughing, +loving the friends of her childhood with passionate love, and fully +expecting an equal devotion from them. It is of such children that +our wives and sweethearts should be made.</p> + +<p>"But how am I to find you when my eyes are blinded?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can feel, you know. You can put your hand on the top of my +head. I mustn't speak, you know; but I'm sure I shall laugh; and then +you must guess that it's Marian." That was her idea of playing +blindman's buff according to the strict rigour of the game.</p> + +<p>"And you'll give me a big kiss?" said Felix.</p> + +<p>"Yes, when we've done playing," she promised with great seriousness.</p> + +<p>And then a huge white silk handkerchief, as big as a small sail, was +brought down from grandpapa's dressing-room, so that nobody should +see the least bit "in the world," as Marian had observed with great +energy; and the work of blinding was commenced. "I ain't big enough +to reach round," said Marian, who had made an effort, but in vain. +"You do it, aunt Mad," and she tendered the handkerchief to Miss +Staveley, who, however, did not appear very eager to undertake the +task.</p> + +<p>"I'll be the executioner," said grandmamma, "the more especially as I +shall not take any other share in the ceremony. This shall be the +chair of doom. Come here, Mr. Graham, and submit yourself to me." And +so the first victim was blinded. "Mind you remember," said Marian, +whispering into his ear as he was led away. "Green spirits and white; +blue spirits and gray—," and then he was twirled round in the room +and left to commence his search as best he might.</p> + +<p>Marian Arbuthnot was not the only soft little laughing darling that +wished to be caught, and blinded, so that there was great pulling at +the blindman's tails, and much grasping at his outstretched arms +before the desired object was attained. And he wandered round the +room skilfully, as though a thought were in his mind false to his +treaty with Marian,—as though he imagined for a moment that some +other prize might be caught. But if so, the other prize evaded him +carefully, and in due progress of play, Marian's soft curls were +within his grasp. "I'm sure I didn't speak, or say a word," said she, +as she ran up to her grandmother to have the handkerchief put over +her eyes. "Did I, grandmamma?"</p> + +<p>"There are more ways of speaking than one," said Lady Staveley. "You +and Mr. Graham understand each other, I think."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was caught quite fairly," said Marian—"and now lead me round +and round." To her at any rate the festivities of Christmas-day were +not too ponderous for real enjoyment.</p> + +<p>And then, at last, somebody caught the judge. I rather think it was +Madeline; but his time in truth was come, and he had no chance of +escape. The whole room was set upon his capture, and though he +barricaded himself with chairs and children, he was duly apprehended +and named. "That's papa; I know by his watch-chain, for I made it."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, my dears," said the judge. "I will do no such thing. I +should never catch anybody, and should remain blind for ever."</p> + +<p>"But grandpapa must," said Marian. "It's the game that he should be +blinded when he's caught."</p> + +<p>"Suppose the game was that we should be whipped when we are caught, +and I was to catch you," said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"But I would not play that game," said Marian.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, you must," said Madeline. "Do—and you shall catch Mr. +Furnival."</p> + +<p>"That would be a temptation," said the judge. "I've never been able +to do that yet, though I've been trying it for some years."</p> + +<p>"Justice is blind," said Graham. "Why should a judge be ashamed to +follow the example of his own goddess?" And so at last the owner of +the ermine submitted, and the stern magistrate of the bench was led +round with the due incantation of the spirits, and dismissed into +chaos to seek for a new victim.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill22b" id="ill22b"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill22b.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill22b-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Christmas at Noningsby—Evening." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Christmas at Noningsby—Evening.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill22b.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>One of the rules of blindman's buff at Noningsby was this, that it +should not be played by candlelight,—a rule that is in every way +judicious, as thereby an end is secured for that which might +otherwise be unending. And therefore when it became so dark in the +schoolroom that there was not much difference between the blind man +and the others, the handkerchief was smuggled away, and the game was +at an end.</p> + +<p>"And now for snap-dragon," said Marian.</p> + +<p>"Exactly as you predicted, Mr. Graham," said Madeline: "blindman's +buff at a quarter past three, and snap-dragon at five."</p> + +<p>"I revoke every word that I uttered, for I was never more amused in +my life."</p> + +<p>"And you will be prepared to endure the wine and sweet cake when they +come."</p> + +<p>"Prepared to endure anything, and go through everything. We shall be +allowed candles now, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, by no means. Snap-dragon by candlelight! who ever heard of +such a thing? It would wash all the dragon out of it, and leave +nothing but the snap. It is a necessity of the game that it should be +played in the dark,—or rather by its own lurid light."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there is a lurid light; is there?"</p> + +<p>"You shall see;" and then she turned away to make her preparations.</p> + +<p>To the game of snap-dragon, as played at Noningsby, a ghost was +always necessary, and aunt Madeline had played the ghost ever since +she had been an aunt, and there had been any necessity for such a +part. But in previous years the spectators had been fewer in number +and more closely connected with the family. "I think we must drop the +ghost on this occasion," she said, coming up to her brother.</p> + +<p>"You'll disgust them all dreadfully if you do," said he. "The young +Sebrights have come specially to see the ghost."</p> + +<p>"Well, you can do ghost for them."</p> + +<p>"I! no; I can't act a ghost. Miss Furnival, you'd make a lovely +ghost."</p> + +<p>"I shall be most happy to be useful," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"Oh, aunt Mad, you must be ghost," said Marian, following her.</p> + +<p>"You foolish little thing, you; we are going to have a beautiful +ghost—a divine ghost," said uncle Gus.</p> + +<p>"But we want Madeline to be the ghost," said a big Miss Sebright, ten +or eleven years old.</p> + +<p>"She's always ghost," said Marian.</p> + +<p>"To be sure; it will be much better," said Miss Furnival. "I only +offered my poor services hoping to be useful. No Banquo that ever +lived could leave a worse ghost behind him than I should prove."</p> + +<p>It ended in there being two ghosts. It had become quite impossible to +rob Miss Furnival of her promised part, and Madeline could not refuse +to solve the difficulty in this way without making more of the matter +than it deserved. The idea of two ghosts was delightful to the +children, more especially as it entailed two large dishes full of +raisins, and two blue fires blazing up from burnt brandy. So the +girls went out, not without proffered assistance from the gentlemen, +and after a painfully long interval of some fifteen or twenty +minutes,—for Miss Furnival's back hair would not come down and +adjust itself into ghostlike lengths with as much readiness as that +of her friend,—they returned bearing the dishes before them on large +trays. In each of them the spirit was lighted as they entered the +schoolroom door, and thus, as they walked in, they were illuminated +by the dark-blue flames which they carried.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it not grand?" said Marian, appealing to Felix Graham.</p> + +<p>"Uncommonly grand," he replied.</p> + +<p>"And which ghost do you think is the grandest? I'll tell you which +ghost I like the best,—in a secret, you know; I like aunt Mad the +best, and I think she's the grandest too."</p> + +<p>"And I'll tell you in a secret that I think the same. To my mind she +is the grandest ghost I ever saw in my life."</p> + +<p>"Is she indeed?" asked Marian, solemnly, thinking probably that her +new friend's experience in ghosts must be extensive. However that +might be, he thought that as far as his experience in women went, he +had never seen anything more lovely than Madeline Staveley dressed in +a long white sheet, with a long bit of white cambric pinned round her +face.</p> + +<p>And it may be presumed that the dress altogether is not unbecoming +when accompanied by blue flames, for Augustus Staveley and Lucius +Mason thought the same thing of Miss Furnival, whereas Peregrine Orme +did not know whether he was standing on his head or his feet as he +looked at Miss Staveley. Miss Furnival may possibly have had some +inkling of this when she offered to undertake the task, but I protest +that such was not the case with Madeline. There was no second thought +in her mind when she first declined the ghosting, and afterwards +undertook the part. No wish to look beautiful in the eyes of Felix +Graham had come to her—at any rate as yet; and as to Peregrine Orme, +she had hardly thought of his existence. "By heavens!" said Peregrine +to himself, "she is the most beautiful creature that I ever saw;" and +then he began to speculate within his own mind how the idea might be +received at The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>But there was no such realised idea with Felix Graham. He saw that +Madeline Staveley was very beautiful, and he felt in an unconscious +manner that her character was very sweet. He may have thought that he +might have loved such a girl, had such love been a thing permitted to +him. But this was far from being the case. Felix Graham's lot in this +life, as regarded that share which his heart might have in it, was +already marked out for him;—marked out for himself and by himself. +The future wife of his bosom had already been selected, and was now +in course of preparation for the duties of her future life. He was +one of those few wise men who have determined not to take a partner +in life at hazard, but to mould a young mind and character to those +pursuits and modes of thought which may best fit a woman for the +duties she will have to perform. What little it may be necessary to +know of the earlier years of Mary Snow shall be told hereafter. Here +it will be only necessary to say that she was an orphan, that as yet +she was little more than a child, and that she owed her maintenance +and the advantage of her education to the charity and love of her +destined husband. Therefore, as I have said, it was manifest that +Felix Graham could not think of falling in love with Miss Staveley, +even had not his very low position, in reference to worldly affairs, +made any such passion on his part quite hopeless. But with Peregrine +Orme the matter was different. There could be no possible reason why +Peregrine Orme should not win and wear the beautiful girl whom he so +much admired.</p> + +<p>But the ghosts are kept standing over their flames, the spirit is +becoming exhausted, and the raisins will be burnt. At snap-dragon, +too, the ghosts here had something to do. The law of the game is +this—a law on which Marian would have insisted had not the flames +been so very hot—that the raisins shall become the prey of those +audacious marauders only who dare to face the presence of the ghost, +and to plunge their hands into the burning dish. As a rule the boys +do this, clawing out the raisins, while the girls pick them up and +eat them. But here at Noningsby the boys were too little to act thus +as pioneers in the face of the enemy, and the raisins might have +remained till the flames were burnt out, had not the beneficent ghost +scattered abroad the richness of her own treasures.</p> + +<p>"Now, Marian," said Felix Graham, bringing her up in his arms.</p> + +<p>"But it will burn, Mr. Felix. Look there; see; there are a great many +at that end. You do it."</p> + +<p>"I must have another kiss then."</p> + +<p>"Very well, yes; if you get five." And then Felix dashed his hand in +among the flames and brought forth a fistful of fruit, which imparted +to his fingers and wristband a smell of brandy for the rest of the +evening.</p> + +<p>"If you take so many at a time I shall rap your knuckles with the +spoon," said the ghost, as she stirred up the flames to keep them +alive.</p> + +<p>"But the ghost shouldn't speak," said Marian, who was evidently +unacquainted with the best ghosts of tragedy.</p> + +<p>"But the ghost must speak when such large hands invade the caldron;" +and then another raid was effected, and the threatened blow was +given. Had any one told her in the morning that she would that day +have rapped Mr. Graham's knuckles with a kitchen spoon, she would not +have believed that person; but it is thus that hearts are lost and +won.</p> + +<p>And Peregrine Orme looked on from a distance, thinking of it all. +That he should have been stricken dumb by the beauty of any girl was +surprising even to himself; for though young and almost boyish in his +manners, he had never yet feared to speak out in any presence. The +tutor at his college had thought him insolent beyond parallel; and +his grandfather, though he loved him for his open face and plain +outspoken words, found them sometimes almost too much for him. But +now he stood there looking and longing, and could not summon courage +to go up and address a few words to this young girl even in the midst +of their sports. Twice or thrice during the last few days he had +essayed to speak to her, but his words had been dull and vapid, and +to himself they had appeared childish. He was quite conscious of his +own weakness. More than once, during that period of the snap-dragon, +did he say to himself that he would descend into the lists and break +a lance in that tourney; but still he did not descend, and his lance +remained inglorious in its rest.</p> + +<p>At the other end of the long table the ghost also had two attendant +knights, and neither of them refrained from the battle. Augustus +Staveley, if he thought it worth his while to keep the lists at all, +would not be allowed to ride through them unopposed from any +backwardness on the part of his rival. Lucius Mason was not likely to +become a timid, silent, longing lover. To him it was not possible +that he should fear the girl whom he loved. He could not worship that +which he wished to obtain for himself. It may be doubted whether he +had much faculty of worshipping anything in the truest meaning of +that word. One worships that which one feels, through the inner and +unexpressed conviction of the mind, to be greater, better, higher +than oneself; but it was not probable that Lucius Mason should so +think of any woman that he might meet.</p> + +<p>Nor, to give him his due, was it probable that he should be in any +way afraid of any man that he might encounter. He would fear neither +the talent, nor the rank, nor the money influence, nor the dexterity +of any such rival. In any attempt that he might make on a woman's +heart he would regard his own chance as good against that of any +other possible he. Augustus Staveley was master here at Noningsby, +and was a clever, dashing, handsome, fashionable young fellow; but +Lucius Mason never dreamed of retreating before such forces as those. +He had words with which to speak as fair as those of any man, and +flattered himself that he as well knew how to use them.</p> + +<p>It was pretty to see with what admirable tact and judicious +management of her smiles Sophia received the homage of the two young +men, answering the compliments of both with ease, and so conducting +herself that neither could fairly accuse her of undue favour to the +other. But unfairly, in his own mind, Augustus did so accuse her. And +why should he have been so venomous, seeing that he entertained no +regard for the lady himself? His object was still plain +enough,—that, namely, of making a match between his needy friend and +the heiress.</p> + +<p>His needy friend in the mean time played on through the long evening +in thoughtless happiness; and Peregrine Orme, looking at the game +from a distance, saw that rap given to the favoured knuckles with a +bitterness of heart and an inner groaning of the spirit that will not +be incomprehensible to many.</p> + +<p>"I do so love that Mr. Felix!" said Marian, as her aunt Madeline +kissed her in her little bed on wishing her good night. "Don't you, +aunt <span class="nowrap">Mad—?"</span></p> + +<p>And so it was that Christmas-day was passed at Noningsby.</p> + + +<p><a name="c23" id="c23"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> +<h3>CHRISTMAS AT GROBY PARK.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Christmas-day was always a time of very great trial to Mrs. Mason of +Groby Park. It behoved her, as the wife of an old English country +gentleman, to spread her board plenteously at that season, and in +some sort to make an open house of it. But she could not bring +herself to spread any board with plenty, and the idea of an open +house would almost break her heart. Unlimited eating! There was +something in the very sounds of such words which was appalling to the +inner woman.</p> + +<p>And on this Christmas-day she was doomed to go through an ordeal of +very peculiar severity. It so happened that the cure of souls in the +parish of Groby had been intrusted for the last two or three years to +a young, energetic, but not very opulent curate. Why the rector of +Groby should be altogether absent, leaving the work in the hands of a +curate, whom he paid by the lease of a cottage and garden and +fifty-five pounds a year,—thereby behaving as he imagined with +extensive liberality,—it is unnecessary here to inquire. Such was +the case, and the Rev. Adolphus Green, with Mrs. A. Green and the +four children, managed to live with some difficulty on the produce of +the garden and the allotted stipend; but could not probably have +lived at all in that position had not Mrs. Adolphus Green been +blessed with some small fortune.</p> + +<p>It had so happened that Mrs. Adolphus Green had been instrumental in +imparting some knowledge of singing to two of the Miss Masons, and +had continued her instructions over the last three years. This had +not been done in any preconcerted way, but the lessons had grown by +chance. Mrs. Mason the while had looked on with a satisfied eye at an +arrangement that was so much to her taste.</p> + +<p>"There are no regular lessons you know," she had said to her husband, +when he suggested that some reward for so much work would be +expedient. "Mrs. Green finds it convenient to have the use of my +drawing-room, and would never see an instrument from year's end to +year's end if she were not allowed to come up here. Depend upon it +she gets a great deal more than she gives."</p> + +<p>But after two years of tuition Mr. Mason had spoken a second time. +"My dear," he said, "I cannot allow the girls to accept so great a +favour from Mrs. Green without making her some compensation."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that it is at all necessary," Mrs. Mason had answered; +"but if you think so, we could send her down a hamper of +apples,—that is, a basketful." Now it happened that apples were very +plentiful that year, and that the curate and his wife were blessed +with as many as they could judiciously consume.</p> + +<p>"Apples! nonsense!" said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"If you mean money, my dear, I couldn't do it. I wouldn't so offend a +lady for all the world."</p> + +<p>"You could buy them something handsome, in the way of furniture. That +little room of theirs that they call the drawing-room has nothing in +it at all. Get Jones from Leeds to send them some things that will do +for them." And hence, after many inner misgivings, had arisen that +purchase of a drawing-room set from Mr. Kantwise,—that set of +metallic "Louey Catorse furniture," containing three tables, eight +chairs, &c., &c., as to which it may be remembered that Mrs. Mason +made such an undoubted bargain, getting them for less than cost +price. That they had been "strained," as Mr. Kantwise himself +admitted in discoursing on the subject to Mr. Dockwrath, was not +matter of much moment. They would do extremely well for a curate's +wife.</p> + +<p>And now on this Christmas-day the present was to be made over to the +happy lady. Mr. and Mrs. Green were to dine at Groby Park,—leaving +their more fortunate children to the fuller festivities of the +cottage; and the intention was that before dinner the whole +drawing-room set should be made over. It was with grievous pangs of +heart that Mrs. Mason looked forward to such an operation. Her own +house was plenteously furnished from the kitchens to the attics, but +still she would have loved to keep that metallic set of painted +trumpery. She knew that the table would not screw on; she knew that +the pivot of the music stool was bent; she knew that there was no +place in the house in which they could stand; she must have known +that in no possible way could they be of use to her or hers,—and yet +she could not part with them without an agony. Her husband was +infatuated in this matter of compensation for the use of Mrs. Green's +idle hours; no compensation could be necessary;—and then she paid +another visit to the metallic furniture. She knew in her heart of +hearts that they could never be of use to anybody, and yet she made +up her mind to keep back two out of the eight chairs. Six chairs +would be quite enough for Mrs. Green's small room.</p> + +<p>As there was to be feasting at five, real roast beef, plum-pudding +and mince-pies;—"Mince-pies and plum-pudding together are vulgar, my +dear," Mrs. Mason had said to her husband; but in spite of the +vulgarity he had insisted;—the breakfast was of course scanty. Mr. +Mason liked a slice of cold meat in the morning, or the leg of a +fowl, or a couple of fresh eggs as well as any man; but the matter +was not worth a continual fight. "As we are to dine an hour earlier +to-day I did not think you would eat meat," his wife said to him. +"Then there would be less expense in putting it on the table," he had +answered; and after that there was nothing more said about it. He +always put off till some future day that great contest which he +intended to wage and to win, and by which he hoped to bring it about +that plenty should henceforward be the law of the land at Groby Park. +And then they all went to church. Mrs. Mason would not on any account +have missed church on Christmas-day or a Sunday. It was a cheap duty, +and therefore rigidly performed. As she walked from her carriage up +to the church-door she encountered Mrs. Green, and smiled sweetly as +she wished that lady all the compliments of the season.</p> + +<p>"We shall see you immediately after church," said Mrs. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, certainly," said Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Green with you?"</p> + +<p>"He intends to do himself the pleasure," said the curate's wife.</p> + +<p>"Mind he comes, because we have a little ceremony to go through +before we sit down to dinner," and Mrs. Mason smiled again ever so +graciously. Did she think, or did she not think, that she was going +to do a kindness to her neighbour? Most women would have sunk into +their shoes as the hour grew nigh at which they were to show +themselves guilty of so much meanness.</p> + +<p>She stayed for the sacrament, and it may here be remarked that on +that afternoon she rated both the footman and housemaid because they +omitted to do so. She thought, we must presume, that she was doing +her duty, and must imagine her to have been ignorant that she was +cheating her husband and cheating her friend. She took the sacrament +with admirable propriety of demeanour, and then, on her return home, +withdrew another chair from the set. There would still be six, +including the rocking chair, and six would be quite enough for that +little hole of a room.</p> + +<p>There was a large chamber up stairs at Groby Park which had been used +for the children's lessons, but which now was generally deserted. +There was in it an old worn-out pianoforte,—and though Mrs. Mason +had talked somewhat grandly of the use of her drawing-room, it was +here that the singing had been taught. Into this room the metallic +furniture had been brought, and up to that Christmas morning it had +remained here packed in its original boxes. Hither immediately after +breakfast Mrs. Mason had taken herself, and had spent an hour in her +efforts to set the things forth to view. Two of the chairs she then +put aside into a cupboard, and a third she added to her private store +on her return to her work after church.</p> + +<p>But, alas, alas! let her do what she would, she could not get the top +on to the table. "It's all smashed, ma'am," said the girl whom she at +last summoned to her aid. "Nonsense, you simpleton; how can it be +smashed when it's new," said the mistress. And then she tried again, +and again, declaring as she did do, that she would have the law of +the rogue who had sold her a damaged article. Nevertheless she had +known that it was damaged, and had bought it cheap on that account, +insisting in very urgent language that the table was in fact worth +nothing because of its injuries.</p> + +<p>At about four Mr. and Mrs. Green walked up to the house and were +shown into the drawing-room. Here was Mrs. Mason supported by +Penelope and Creusa. As Diana was not musical, and therefore under no +compliment to Mrs. Green, she kept out of the way. Mr. Mason also was +absent. He knew that something very mean was about to be done, and +would not show his face till it was over. He ought to have taken the +matter in hand himself, and would have done so had not his mind been +full of other things. He himself was a man terribly wronged and +wickedly injured, and could not therefore in these present months +interfere much in the active doing of kindnesses. His hours were +spent in thinking how he might best obtain justice,—how he might +secure his pound of flesh. He only wanted his own, but that he would +have;—his own, with due punishment on those who had for so many +years robbed him of it. He therefore did not attend at the +presentation of the furniture.</p> + +<p>"And now we'll go up stairs, if you please," said Mrs. Mason, with +that gracious smile for which she was so famous. "Mr. Green, you must +come too. Dear Mrs. Green has been so very kind to my two girls; and +now I have got a few articles,—they are of the very newest fashion, +and I do hope that Mrs. Green will like them." And so they all went +up into the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>"There's a new fashion come up lately," said Mrs. Mason as she walked +along the corridor, "quite new:—of metallic furniture. I don't know +whether you have seen any." Mrs. Green said she had not seen any as +yet.</p> + +<p>"The Patent Steel Furniture Company makes it, and it has got very +greatly into vogue for small rooms. I thought that perhaps you would +allow me to present you with a set for your drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it is very kind of you to think of it," said Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"Uncommonly so," said Mr. Green. But both Mr. Green and Mrs. Green +knew the lady, and their hopes did not run high.</p> + +<p>And then the door was opened and there stood the furniture to view. +There stood the furniture, except the three subtracted chairs, and +the loo table. The claw and leg of the table indeed were standing +there, but the top was folded up and lying on the floor beside it. "I +hope you'll like the pattern," began Mrs. Mason. "I'm told that it is +the prettiest that has yet been brought out. There has been some +little accident about the screw of the table, but the smith in the +village will put that to rights in five minutes. He lives so close to +you that I didn't think it worth while to have him up here."</p> + +<p>"It's very nice," said Mrs. Green, looking round her almost in +dismay.</p> + +<p>"Very nice indeed," said Mr. Green, wondering in his mind for what +purpose such utter trash could have been manufactured, and +endeavouring to make up his mind as to what they might possibly do +with it. Mr. Green knew what chairs and tables should be, and was +well aware that the things before him were absolutely useless for any +of the ordinary purposes of furniture.</p> + +<p>"And they are the most convenient things in the world," said Mrs. +Mason, "for when you are going to change house you pack them all up +again in those boxes. Wooden furniture takes up so much room, and is +so lumbersome."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is," said Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"I'll have them all put up again and sent down in the cart +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; that will be very kind," said Mr. Green, and then the +ceremony of the presentation was over. On the following day the boxes +were sent down, and Mrs. Mason might have abstracted even another +chair without detection, for the cases lay unheeded from month to +month in the curate's still unfurnished room. "The fact is they +cannot afford a carpet," Mrs. Mason afterwards said to one of her +daughters, "and with such things as those they are quite right to +keep them up till they can be used with advantage. I always gave Mrs. +Green credit for a good deal of prudence."</p> + +<p>And then, when the show was over, they descended again into the +drawing-room,—Mr. Green and Mrs. Mason went first, and Creusa +followed. Penelope was thus so far behind as to be able to speak to +her friend without being heard by the others.</p> + +<p>"You know mamma," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders and a look +of scorn in her eye.</p> + +<p>"The things are very nice."</p> + +<p>"No, they are not, and you know they are not. They are worthless; +perfectly worthless."</p> + +<p>"But we don't want anything."</p> + +<p>"No; and if there had been no pretence of a gift it would all have +been very well. What will Mr. Green think?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think he likes iron chairs;" and then they were in the +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason did not appear till dinner-time, and came in only just in +time to give his arm to Mrs. Green. He had had letters to write,—a +letter to Messrs. Round and Crook, very determined in its tone; and a +letter also to Mr. Dockwrath, for the little attorney had so crept on +in the affair that he was now corresponding with the principal. "I'll +teach those fellows in Bedford Row to know who I am," he had said to +himself more than once, sitting on his high stool at Hamworth.</p> + +<p>And then came the Groby Park Christmas dinner. To speak the truth Mr. +Mason had himself gone to the neighbouring butcher, and ordered the +surloin of beef, knowing that it would be useless to trust to orders +conveyed through his wife. He had seen the piece of meat put on one +side for him, and had afterwards traced it on to the kitchen dresser. +But nevertheless when it appeared at table it had been sadly +mutilated. A steak had been cut off the full breadth of it—a +monstrous cantle from out its fair proportions. The lady had seen the +jovial, thick, ample size of the goodly joint, and her heart had been +unable to spare it. She had made an effort and turned away, saying to +herself that the responsibility was all with him. But it was of no +use. There was that within her which could not do it. "Your master +will never be able to carve such a mountain of meat as that," she had +said, turning back to the cook. "Deed, an' it's he that will, ma'am," +said the Irish mistress of the spit; for Irish cooks are cheaper than +those bred and born in England. But nevertheless the thing was done, +and it was by her own fair hands that the envious knife was used. "I +couldn't do it, ma'am," the cook had said; "I couldn't railly."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason's face became very black when he saw the raid that had been +effected, and when he looked up across the table his wife's eye was +on him. She knew what she had to expect, and she knew also that it +would not come now. Her eye steadily looked at his, quivering with +fear; for Mr. Mason could be savage enough in his anger. And what had +she gained? One may as well ask what does the miser gain who hides +away his gold in an old pot, or what does that other madman gain who +is locked up for long long years because he fancies himself the +grandmother of the Queen of England?</p> + +<p>But there was still enough beef on the table for all of them to eat, +and as Mrs. Mason was not intrusted with the carving of it, their +plates were filled. As far as a sufficiency of beef can make a good +dinner Mr. and Mrs. Green did have a good dinner on that +Christmas-day. Beyond that their comfort was limited, for no one was +in a humour for happy conversation.</p> + +<p>And over and beyond the beef there was a plum-pudding and three +mince-pies. Four mince-pies had originally graced the dish, but +before dinner one had been conveyed away to some up stairs receptacle +for such spoils. The pudding also was small, nor was it black and +rich, and laden with good things as a Christmas pudding should be +laden. Let us hope that what the guests so lost was made up to them +on the following day, by an absence of those ill effects which +sometimes attend upon the consumption of rich viands.</p> + +<p>"And now, my dear, we'll have a bit of bread and cheese and a glass +of beer," Mr. Green said when he arrived at his own cottage. And so +it was that Christmas-day was passed at Groby Park.</p> + + +<p><a name="c24" id="c24"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> +<h3>CHRISTMAS IN GREAT ST. HELENS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>We will now look in for a moment at the Christmas doings of our fat +friend, Mr. Moulder. Mr. Moulder was a married man living in lodgings +over a wine-merchant's vaults in Great St. Helens. He was blessed—or +troubled, with no children, and prided himself greatly on the +material comfort with which his humble home was surrounded. "His +wife," he often boasted, "never wanted for plenty of the best of +eating; and for linen and silks and such-like, she could show her +drawers and her wardrobes with many a great lady from Russell Square, +and not be ashamed, neither!" And then, as for drink,—"tipple," as +Mr. Moulder sportively was accustomed to name it among his friends, +he opined that he was not altogether behind the mark in that respect. +"He had got some brandy—he didn't care what anybody might say about +Cognac and eau de vie; but the brandy which he had got from Betts' +private establishment seventeen years ago, for richness of flavour +and fullness of strength, would beat any French article that anybody +in the city could show. That at least was his idea. If anybody didn't +like it, they needn't take it. There was whisky that would make your +hair stand on end." So said Mr. Moulder, and I can believe him; for +it has made my hair stand on end merely to see other people drinking +it.</p> + +<p>And if comforts of apparel, comforts of eating and drinking, and +comforts of the feather-bed and easy-chair kind can make a woman +happy, Mrs. Moulder was no doubt a happy woman. She had quite fallen +in to the mode of life laid out for her. She had a little bit of hot +kidney for breakfast at about ten; she dined at three, having seen +herself to the accurate cooking of her roast fowl, or her bit of +sweetbread, and always had her pint of Scotch ale. She turned over +all her clothes almost every day. In the evening she read Reynolds's +Miscellany, had her tea and buttered muffins, took a thimbleful of +brandy and water at nine, and then went to bed. The work of her life +consisted in sewing buttons on to Moulder's shirts, and seeing that +his things were properly got up when he was at home. No doubt she +would have done better as to the duties of the world, had the world's +duties come to her. As it was, very few such had come in her +direction. Her husband was away from home three-fourths of the year, +and she had no children that required attention. As for society, some +four or five times a year she would drink tea with Mrs. Hubbles at +Clapham. Mrs. Hubbles was the wife of the senior partner in the firm, +and on such occasions Mrs. Moulder dressed herself in her best, and +having travelled to Clapham in an omnibus, spent the evening in dull +propriety on one corner of Mrs. Hubbles's sofa. When I have added to +this that Moulder every year took her to Broadstairs for a fortnight, +I think that I have described with sufficient accuracy the course of +Mrs. Moulder's life.</p> + +<p>On the occasion of this present Christmas-day Mr. Moulder entertained +a small party. And he delighted in such occasional entertainments, +taking extraordinary pains that the eatables should be of the very +best; and he would maintain an hospitable good humour to the +last,—unless anything went wrong in the cookery, in which case he +could make himself extremely unpleasant to Mrs. M. Indeed, proper +cooking for Mr. M. and the proper starching of the bands of his +shirts were almost the only trials that Mrs. Moulder was doomed to +suffer. "What the <span class="nowrap">d——</span> +are you for?" he would say, almost throwing +the displeasing viands at her head across the table, or tearing the +rough linen from off his throat. "It ain't much I ask of you in +return for your keep;" and then he would scowl at her with bloodshot +eyes till she shook in her shoes. But this did not happen often, as +experiences had made her careful.</p> + +<p>But on this present Christmas festival all went swimmingly to the +end. "Now, bear a hand, old girl," was the harshest word he said to +her; and he enjoyed himself like Duncan, shut up in measureless +content. He had three guests with him on this auspicious day. There +was his old friend Snengkeld, who had dined with him on every +Christmas since his marriage; there was his wife's brother, of whom +we will say a word or two just now;—and there was our old friend, +Mr. Kantwise. Mr. Kantwise was not exactly the man whom Moulder would +have chosen as his guest, for they were opposed to each other in all +their modes of thought and action; but he had come across the +travelling agent of the Patent Metallic Steel Furniture Company on +the previous day, and finding that he was to be alone in London on +this general holiday, he had asked him out of sheer good nature. +Moulder could be very good natured, and full of pity when the sorrow +to be pitied arose from some such source as the want of a Christmas +dinner. So Mr. Kantwise had been asked, and precisely at four o'clock +he made his appearance at Great St. Helens.</p> + +<p>But now, as to this brother-in-law. He was no other than that John +Kenneby whom Miriam Usbech did not marry,—whom Miriam Usbech might, +perhaps, have done well to marry. John Kenneby, after one or two +attempts in other spheres of life, had at last got into the house of +Hubbles and Grease, and had risen to be their book-keeper. He had +once been tried by them as a traveller, but in that line he had +failed. He did not possess that rough, ready, self-confident tone of +mind which is almost necessary for a man who is destined to move +about quickly from one circle of persons to another. After a six +months' trial he had given that up, but during the time, Mr. Moulder, +the senior traveller of the house, had married his sister. John +Kenneby was a good, honest, painstaking fellow, and was believed by +his friends to have put a few pounds together in spite of the +timidity of his character.</p> + +<p>When Snengkeld and Kenneby were shown up into the room, they found +nobody there but Kantwise. That Mrs. Moulder should be down stairs +looking after the roast turkey was no more than natural; but why +should not Moulder himself be there to receive his guests? He soon +appeared, however, coming up without his coat.</p> + +<p>"Well, Snengkeld, how are you, old fellow; many happy returns, and +all that; the same to you, John. I'll tell you what, my lads; it's a +prime 'un. I never saw such a bird in all my days."</p> + +<p>"What, the turkey?" said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"You didn't think it'd be a ostrich, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Snengkeld. "No, I didn't expect nothing but a +turkey here on Christmas-day."</p> + +<p>"And nothing but a turkey you'll have, my boys. Can you eat turkey, +Kantwise?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Kantwise declared that his only passion in the way of eating was +for a turkey.</p> + +<p>"As for John, I'm sure of him. I've seen him at the work before." +Whereupon John grinned but said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I never see such a bird in my life, certainly."</p> + +<p>"From Norfolk, I suppose," said Snengkeld, with a great appearance of +interest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you may swear to that. It weighed twenty-four pounds, for I put +it into the scales myself, and old Gibbetts let me have it for a +guinea. The price marked on it was five-and-twenty, for I saw it. +He's had it hanging for a fortnight, and I've been to see it wiped +down with vinegar regular every morning. And now, my boys, it's done +to a turn. I've been in the kitchen most of the time myself; and +either I or Mrs. M. has never left it for a single moment."</p> + +<p>"How did you manage about divine service?" said Kantwise; and then, +when he had spoken, closed his eyes and sucked his lips.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moulder looked at him for a minute, and then said, "Gammon."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Snengkeld. And then Mrs. Moulder appeared, +bringing the turkey with her; for she would trust it to no hands less +careful than her own.</p> + +<p>"By George, it is a bird," said Snengkeld, standing over it and +eyeing it minutely.</p> + +<p>"Uncommon nice it looks," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"All the same, I wouldn't eat none, if I were you," said Moulder, +"seeing what sinners have been a basting it." And then they all sat +down to dinner, Moulder having first resumed his coat.</p> + +<p>For the next three or four minutes Moulder did not speak a word. The +turkey was on his mind, with the stuffing, the gravy, the liver, the +breast, the wings, and the legs. He stood up to carve it, and while +he was at the work he looked at it as though his two eyes were hardly +sufficient. He did not help first one person and then another, so +ending by himself; but he cut up artistically as much as might +probably be consumed, and located the fragments in small heaps or +shares in the hot gravy; and then, having made a partition of the +spoils, he served it out with unerring impartiality. To have robbed +any one of his or her fair slice of the breast would, in his mind, +have been gross dishonesty. In his heart he did not love Kantwise, +but he dealt by him with the utmost justice in the great affair of +the turkey's breast. When he had done all this, and his own plate was +laden, he gave a long sigh. "I shall never cut up such another bird +as that, the longest day that I have to live," he said; and then he +took out his large red silk handkerchief and wiped the perspiration +from his brow.</p> + +<p>"Deary me, M.; don't think of that now," said the wife.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" said Snengkeld. "Care killed a cat."</p> + +<p>"And perhaps you may," said John Kenneby, trying to comfort him; "who +knows?"</p> + +<p>"It's all in the hands of Providence," said Kantwise, "and we should +look to him."</p> + +<p>"And how does it taste?" asked Moulder, shaking the gloomy thoughts +from his mind.</p> + +<p>"Uncommon," said Snengkeld, with his mouth quite full. "I never eat +such a turkey in all my life."</p> + +<p>"Like melted diamonds," said Mrs. Moulder, who was not without a +touch of poetry.</p> + +<p>"Ah, there's nothing like hanging of 'em long enough, and watching of +'em well. It's that vinegar as done it;" and then they went seriously +to work, and there was nothing more said of any importance until the +eating was nearly over.</p> + +<p>And now Mrs. M. had taken away the cloth, and they were sitting +cozily over their port wine. The very apple of the eye of the evening +had not arrived even yet. That would not come till the pipes were +brought out, and the brandy was put on the table, and the whisky was +there that made the people's hair stand on end. It was then that the +floodgates of convivial eloquence would be unloosed. In the mean time +it was necessary to sacrifice something to gentility, and therefore +they sat over their port wine.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring that letter with you, John?" said his sister. John +replied that he had done so, and that he had also received another +letter that morning from another party on the same subject.</p> + +<p>"Do show it to Moulder, and ask him," said Mrs. M.</p> + +<p>"I've got 'em both on purpose," said John; and then he brought forth +two letters, and handed one of them to his brother-in-law. It +contained a request, very civilly worded, from Messrs. Round and +Crook, begging him to call at their office in Bedford Row on the +earliest possible day, in order that they might have some +conversation with him regarding the will of the late Sir Joseph +Mason, who died in <span class="nowrap">18—.</span></p> + +<p>"Why, this is law business," said Moulder, who liked no business of +that description. "Don't you go near them, John, if you ain't +obliged."</p> + +<p>And then Kenneby gave his explanation on the matter, telling how in +former years,—many years ago, he had been a witness in a lawsuit. +And then as he told it he sighed, remembering Miriam Usbech, for +whose sake he had remained unmarried even to this day. And he went on +to narrate how he had been bullied in the court, though he had +valiantly striven to tell the truth with exactness; and as he spoke, +an opinion of his became manifest that old Usbech had not signed the +document in his presence. "The girl signed it certainly," said he, +"for I handed her the pen. I recollect it, as though it were +yesterday."</p> + +<p>"They are the very people we were talking of at Leeds," said Moulder, +turning to Kantwise. "Mason and Martock; don't you remember how you +went out to Groby Park to sell some of them iron gimcracks? That was +old Mason's son. They are the same people."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I shouldn't wonder," said Kantwise, who was listening all the +while. He never allowed intelligence of this kind to pass by him +idly.</p> + +<p>"And who's the other letter from?" asked Moulder. "But, dash my wigs, +it's past six o'clock. Come, old girl, why don't you give us the +tobacco and stuff?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't far to fetch," said Mrs. Moulder. And then she put the +tobacco and "stuff" upon the table.</p> + +<p>"The other letter is from an enemy of mine," said John Kenneby, +speaking very solemnly; "an enemy of mine, named Dockwrath, who lives +at Hamworth. He's an attorney too."</p> + +<p>"Dockwrath!" said Moulder.</p> + +<p>Mr. Kantwise said nothing, but he looked round over his shoulder at +Kenneby, and then shut his eyes.</p> + +<p>"That was the name of the man whom we left in the commercial room at +the Bull," said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"He went out to Mason's at Groby Park that same day," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Then it's the same man," said Kenneby; and there was as much +solemnity in the tone of his voice as though the unravelment of all +the mysteries of the iron mask was now about to take place. Mr. +Kantwise still said nothing, but he also perceived that it was the +same man.</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you, John Kenneby," said Moulder, with the air of one +who understood well the subject that he was discussing, "if they two +be the same man, then the man who wrote that letter to you is as big +a blackguard as there is from this to hisself." And Mr. Moulder in +the excitement of the moment puffed hard at his pipe, took a long +pull at his drink, and dragged open his waistcoat. "I don't know +whether Kantwise has anything to say upon that subject," added +Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Not a word at present," said Kantwise. Mr. Kantwise was a very +careful man, and usually calculated with accuracy the value which he +might extract from any circumstances with reference to his own main +chance. Mr. Dockwrath had not as yet paid him for the set of metallic +furniture, and therefore he also might well have joined in that +sweeping accusation; but it might be that by a judicious use of what +he now heard he might obtain the payment of that little bill,—and +perhaps other collateral advantages.</p> + +<p>And then the letter from Dockwrath to Kenneby was brought forth and +read. "My dear John," it began,—for the two had known each other +when they were lads together,—and it went on to request Kenneby's +attendance at Hamworth for the short space of a few hours,—"I want +to have a little conversation with you about a matter of considerable +interest to both of us; and as I cannot expect you to undertake +expense I enclose a money order for thirty shillings."</p> + +<p>"He's in earnest at any rate," said Mr. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"No mistake about that," said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Kantwise spoke never a word.</p> + +<p>It was at last decided that John Kenneby should go both to Hamworth +and to Bedford Row, but that he should go to Hamworth first. Moulder +would have counselled him to have gone to neither, but Snengkeld +remarked that there were too many at work to let the matter sleep, +and John himself observed that "anyways he hadn't done anything to be +ashamed of."</p> + +<p>"Then go," said Moulder at last, "only don't say more than you are +obliged to."</p> + +<p>"I does not like these business talkings on Christmas night," said +Mrs. Moulder, when the matter was arranged.</p> + +<p>"What can one do?" asked Moulder.</p> + +<p>"It's a tempting of Providence in my mind," said Kantwise, as he +replenished his glass, and turned his eyes up to the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Now that's gammon," said Moulder. And then there arose among them a +long and animated discussion on matters theological.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what my idea of death is," said Moulder, after a +while. "I ain't a bit afeard of it. My father was an honest man as +did his duty by his employers, and he died with a bottom of brandy +before him and a pipe in his mouth. I sha'n't live long +<span class="nowrap">myself—"</span></p> + +<p>"Gracious, Moulder, don't!" said Mrs. M.</p> + +<p>"No, more I sha'n't, 'cause I'm fat as he was; and I hope I may die +as he did. I've been honest to Hubbles and Grease. They've made +thousands of pounds along of me, and have never lost none. Who can +say more than that? When I took to the old girl there, I insured my +life, so that she shouldn't want her wittles and +<span class="nowrap">drink—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, M., don't!"</p> + +<p>"And I ain't afeard to die. Snengkeld, my old pal, hand us the +brandy."</p> + +<p>Such is the modern philosophy of the Moulders, pigs out of the sty of +Epicurus. And so it was they passed Christmas-day in Great St. +Helens.</p> + + +<p><a name="c25" id="c25"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> +<h3>MR. FURNIVAL AGAIN AT HIS CHAMBERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The Christmas doings at The Cleeve were not very gay. There was no +visitor there, except Lady Mason, and it was known that she was in +trouble. It must not, however, be supposed that she constantly +bewailed herself while there, or made her friends miserable by a +succession of hysterical tears. By no means. She made an effort to be +serene, and the effort was successful—as such efforts usually are. +On the morning of Christmas-day they duly attended church, and Lady +Mason was seen by all Hamworth sitting in The Cleeve pew. In no way +could the baronet's friendship have been shown more plainly than in +this, nor could a more significant mark of intimacy have been +given;—all which Sir Peregrine well understood. The people of +Hamworth had chosen to talk scandal about Lady Mason, but he at any +rate would show how little attention he paid to the falsehoods that +there were circulated. So he stood by her at the pew door as she +entered, with as much deference as though she had been a duchess; and +the people of Hamworth, looking on, wondered which would be right, +Mr. Dockwrath or Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>After dinner Sir Peregrine gave a toast. "Lady Mason, we will drink +the health of the absent boys. God bless them! I hope they are +enjoying themselves."</p> + +<p>"God bless them!" said Mrs. Orme, putting her handkerchief to her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"God bless them both!" said Lady Mason, also putting her handkerchief +to her eyes. Then the ladies left the room, and that was the extent +of their special festivity. "Robert," said Sir Peregrine immediately +afterwards to his butler, "let them have what port wine they want in +the servants' hall—within measure."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"And Robert, I shall not want you again."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>From all which it may be imagined that the Christmas doings at The +Cleeve were chiefly maintained below stairs.</p> + +<p>"I do hope they are happy," said Mrs. Orme, when the two ladies were +together in the drawing-room. "They have a very nice party at +Noningsby."</p> + +<p>"Your boy will be happy, I'm sure," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"And why not Lucius also?"</p> + +<p>It was sweet in Lady Mason's ear to hear her son called by his +Christian name. All these increasing signs of interest and intimacy +were sweet, but especially any which signified some favour shown to +her son. "This trouble weighs heavy on him," she replied. "It is only +natural that he should feel it."</p> + +<p>"Papa does not seem to think much of it," said Mrs. Orme. "If I were +you, I would strive to forget it."</p> + +<p>"I do strive," said the other; and then she took the hand which Mrs. +Orme had stretched out to her, and that lady got up and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Dearest friend," said Mrs. Orme, "if we can comfort you we will." +And then they sobbed in each other's arms.</p> + +<p>In the mean time Sir Peregrine was sitting alone, thinking. He sat +thinking, with his glass of claret untouched by his side, and with +the biscuit which he had taken lying untouched upon the table. As he +sat he had raised one leg upon the other, placing his foot on his +knee, and he held it there with his hand upon his instep. And so he +sat without moving for some quarter of an hour, trying to use all his +mind on the subject which occupied it. At last he roused himself, +almost with a start, and leaving his chair, walked three or four +times the length of the room. "Why should I not?" at last he said to +himself, stopping suddenly and placing his hand upon the table. "Why +should I not, if it pleases me? It shall not injure him—nor her." +And then he walked again. "But I will ask Edith," he said, still +speaking to himself. "If she says that she disapproves of it, I will +not do it." And then he left the room, while the wine still remained +untasted on the table.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill22c" id="ill22c"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill22c.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill22c-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Why should I not?"' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Why should I not?"<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill22c.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>On the day following Christmas Mr. Furnival went up to town, and Mr. +Round junior,—Mat Round, as he was called in the profession,—came +to him at his chambers. A promise had been made to the barrister by +Round and Crook that no active steps should be taken against Lady +Mason on the part of Joseph Mason of Groby, without notice being +given to Mr. Furnival. And this visit by appointment was made in +consequence of that promise.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Matthew Round, when that visit was nearly brought to +a close, "that we are pressed very hard to go on with this, and if we +do not, somebody else will."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, if I were you, I should decline," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"You're looking to your client, not to ours, sir," said the attorney. +"The fact is that the whole case is very queer. It was proved on the +last trial that Bolster and Kenneby were witnesses to a deed on the +14th of July, and that was all that was proved. Now we can prove that +they were on that day witnesses to another deed. Were they witnesses +to two?"</p> + +<p>"Why should they not be?"</p> + +<p>"That is for us to see. We have written to them both to come up to +us, and in order that we might be quite on the square I thought it +right to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; yes; I cannot complain of you. And what form do you think +that your proceedings will take?"</p> + +<p>"Joseph Mason talks of indicting her for—forgery," said the +attorney, pausing a moment before he dared to pronounce the dread +word.</p> + +<p>"Indict her for forgery!" said Furnival, with a start. And yet the +idea was one which had been for some days present to his mind's eye.</p> + +<p>"I do not say so," said Round. "I have as yet seen none of the +witnesses myself. If they are prepared to prove that they did sign +two separate documents on that day, the thing must pass off." It was +clear to Mr. Furnival that even Mr. Round junior would be glad that +it should pass off. And then he also sat thinking. Might it not be +probable that, with a little judicious exercise of their memory, +those two witnesses would remember that they had signed two +documents; or at any rate, looking to the lapse of the time, that +they might be induced to forget altogether whether they had signed +one, two, or three? Or even if they could be mystified so that +nothing could be proved, it would still be well with his client. +Indeed no magistrate would commit such a person as Lady Mason, +especially after so long an interval, and no grand jury would find a +bill against her, except upon evidence that was clear, well defined, +and almost indubitable. If any point of doubt could be shown, she +might be brought off without a trial, if only she would be true to +herself. At the former trial there was the existing codicil, and the +fact also that the two surviving reputed witnesses would not deny +their signatures. These signatures—if they were genuine +signatures—had been attached with all proper formality, and the form +used went to state that the testator had signed the instrument in the +presence of them all, they all being present together at the same +time. The survivors had both asserted that when they did affix their +names the three were then present, as was also Sir Joseph; but there +had been a terrible doubt even then as to the identity of the +document; and a doubt also as to there having been any signature made +by one of the reputed witnesses—by that one, namely, who at the time +of that trial was dead. Now another document was forthcoming, +purporting to have been witnessed, on the same day, by these two +surviving witnesses! If that document were genuine, and if these two +survivors should be clear that they had written their names but once +on that 14th of July, in such case could it be possible to quash +further public inquiry? The criminal prosecution might not be +possible as a first proceeding, but if the estate were recovered at +common law, would not the criminal prosecution follow as a matter of +course? And then Mr. Furnival thought it all over again and again.</p> + +<p>If this document were genuine,—this new document which the man +Dockwrath stated that he had found,—this deed of separation of +partnership which purported to have been executed on that 14th of +July! That was now the one important question. If it were genuine! +And why should there not be as strong a question of the honesty of +that document as of the other? Mr. Furnival well knew that no +fraudulent deed would be forged and produced without a motive; and +that if he impugned this deed he must show the motive. Motive enough +there was, no doubt. Mason might have had it forged in order to get +the property, or Dockwrath to gratify his revenge. But in such case +it would be a forgery of the present day. There could have been no +motive for such a forgery twenty years ago. The paper, the writing, +the attested signature of Martock, the other party to it, would prove +that it had not been got up and manufactured now. Dockwrath would not +dare to bring forward such a forgery as that. There was no hope of +any such result.</p> + +<p>But might not he, Furnival, if the matter were pushed before a jury, +make them think that the two documents stood balanced against each +other? and that Lady Mason's respectability, her long possession, +together with the vile malignity of her antagonists, gave the greater +probability of honesty to the disputed codicil? Mr. Furnival did +think that he might induce a jury to acquit her; but he terribly +feared that he might not be able to induce the world to acquit her +also. As he thought of all the case, he seemed to put himself apart +from the world at large. He did not question himself as to his own +belief, but seemed to feel that it would suffice for him if he could +so bring it about that her other friends should think her innocent. +It would by no means suffice for him to secure for her son the +property, and for her a simple acquittal. It was not that he dreaded +the idea of thinking her guilty himself; perhaps he did so think her +now—he half thought her so, at any rate; but he greatly dreaded the +idea of others thinking so. It might be well to buy up Dockwrath, if +it were possible. If it were possible! But then it was not possible +that he himself could have a hand in such a matter. Could Crabwitz do +it? No; he thought not. And then, at this moment, he was not certain +that he could depend on Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>And why should he trouble himself in this way? Mr. Furnival was a man +loyal to his friends at heart. Had Lady Mason been a man, and had he +pulled that man through great difficulties in early life, he would +have been loyally desirous of carrying him through the same or +similar difficulties at any after period. In that cause which he had +once battled he was always ready to do battle, without reference to +any professional consideration of triumph or profit. It was to this +feeling of loyalty that he had owed much of his success in life. And +in such a case as this it may be supposed that that feeling would be +strong. But then such a feeling presumed a case in which he could +sympathise—in which he could believe. Would it be well that he +should allow himself to feel the same interest in this case, to +maintain respecting it the same personal anxiety, if he ceased to +believe in it? He did ask himself the question, and he finally +answered it in the affirmative. He had beaten Joseph Mason once in a +good stand-up fight; and having done so, having thus made the matter +his own, it was necessary to his comfort that he should beat him +again, if another fight were to be fought. Lady Mason was his client, +and all the associations of his life taught him to be true to her as +such.</p> + +<p>And as we are thus searching into his innermost heart we must say +more than this. Mrs. Furnival perhaps had no sufficient grounds for +those terrible fears of hers; but nevertheless the mistress of Orley +Farm was very comely in the eyes of the lawyer. Her eyes, when full +of tears, were very bright, and her hand, as it lay in his, was very +soft. He laid out for himself no scheme of wickedness with reference +to her; he purposely entertained no thoughts which he knew to be +wrong; but, nevertheless, he did feel that he liked to have her by +him, that he liked to be her adviser and friend, that he liked to +wipe the tears from those eyes—not by a material handkerchief from +his pocket, but by immaterial manly sympathy from his bosom; and that +he liked also to feel the pressure of that hand. Mrs. Furnival had +become solid, and heavy, and red; and though he himself was solid, +and heavy, and red also—more so, indeed, in proportion than his poor +wife, for his redness, as I have said before, had almost reached a +purple hue; nevertheless his eye loved to look upon the beauty of a +lovely woman, his ear loved to hear the tone of her voice, and his +hand loved to meet the soft ripeness of her touch. It was very wrong +that it should have been so, but the case is not without a parallel.</p> + +<p>And therefore he made up his mind that he would not desert Lady +Mason. He would not desert her; but how would he set about the +fighting that would be necessary in her behalf? He was well aware of +this, that if he fought at all, he must fight now. It would not do to +let the matter go on till she should be summoned to defend herself. +Steps which might now be available would be altogether unavailable in +two or three months' time—would be so, perhaps, if he allowed two or +three weeks to pass idly by him. Mr. Round, luckily, was not disposed +to hurry his proceedings; nor, as far as he was concerned, was there +any bitterness of antagonism. But with both Mason and Dockwrath there +would be hot haste, and hotter malice. From those who were really her +enemies she could expect no quarter.</p> + +<p>He was to return on that evening to Noningsby, and on the following +day he would go over to The Cleeve. He knew that Lady Mason was +staying there; but his object in making that visit would not be +merely that he might see her, but also that he might speak to Sir +Peregrine, and learn how far the baronet was inclined to support his +neighbour in her coming tribulation. He would soon be able to +ascertain what Sir Peregrine really thought—whether he suspected the +possibility of any guilt; and he would ascertain also what was the +general feeling in the neighbourhood of Hamworth. It would be a great +thing if he could spread abroad a conviction that she was an injured +woman. It would be a great thing even if he could make it known that +the great people of the neighbourhood so thought. The jurymen of +Alston would be mortal men; and it might be possible that they should +be imbued with a favourable bias on the subject before they assembled +in their box for its consideration.</p> + +<p>He wished that he knew the truth in the matter; or rather he wished +he could know whether or no she were innocent, without knowing +whether or no she were guilty. The fight in his hands would be +conducted on terms so much more glorious if he could feel sure of her +innocence. But then if he attempted that, and she were not innocent, +all might be sacrificed by the audacity of his proceedings. He could +not venture that, unless he were sure of his ground. For a moment or +two he thought that he would ask her the question. He said to himself +that he could forgive the fault. That it had been repented ere this +he did not doubt, and it would be sweet to say to her that it was +very grievous, but that yet it might be forgiven. It would be sweet +to feel that she was in his hands, and that he would treat her with +mercy and kindness. But then a hundred other thoughts forbade him to +think more of this. If she had been, guilty,—if she declared her +guilt to him,—would not restitution be necessary? In that case her +son must know it, and all the world must know it. Such a confession +would be incompatible with that innocence before the world which it +was necessary that she should maintain. Moreover, he must be able to +proclaim aloud his belief in her innocence; and how could he do that, +knowing her to be guilty—knowing that she also knew that he had such +knowledge? It was impossible that he should ask any such question, or +admit of any such confidence.</p> + +<p>It would be necessary, if the case did come to a trial, that she +should employ some attorney. The matter must come into the +barrister's hands in the usual way, through a solicitor's house, and +it would be well that the person employed should have a firm faith in +his client. What could he say—he, as a barrister—if the attorney +suggested to him that the lady might possibly be guilty? As he +thought of all these things he almost dreaded the difficulties before +him.</p> + +<p>He rang the bell for Crabwitz,—the peculiar bell which Crabwitz was +bound to answer,—having first of all gone through a little ceremony +with his cheque-book. Crabwitz entered, still sulky in his demeanour, +for as yet the old anger had not been appeased, and it was still a +doubtful matter in the clerk's mind whether or no it might not be +better for him to seek a master who would better appreciate his +services. A more lucrative position it might be difficult for him to +find; but money is not everything, as Crabwitz said to himself more +than once.</p> + +<p>"Crabwitz," said Mr. Furnival, looking with a pleasant face at his +clerk, "I am leaving town this evening, and I shall be absent for the +next ten days. If you like you can go away for a holiday."</p> + +<p>"It's rather late in the season now, sir," said Crabwitz, gloomily, +as though he were determined not to be pleased.</p> + +<p>"It is a little late, as you say; but I really could not manage it +earlier. Come, Crabwitz, you and I should not quarrel. Your work has +been a little hard, but then so has mine also."</p> + +<p>"I fancy you like it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! Like it, indeed! But so do you like it—in its way. Come, +Crabwitz, you have been an excellent servant to me; and I don't think +that, on the whole, I have been a bad master to you."</p> + +<p>"I am making no complaint, sir."</p> + +<p>"But you're cross because I've kept you in town a little too long. +Come, Crabwitz, you must forget all that. You have worked very hard +this year past. Here is a cheque for fifty pounds. Get out of town +for a fortnight or so, and amuse yourself."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very much obliged, sir," said Crabwitz, putting out his +hand and taking the cheque. He felt that his master had got the +better of him, and he was still a little melancholy on that account. +He would have valued his grievance at that moment almost more than +the fifty pounds, especially as by the acceptance of it he +surrendered all right to complain for some considerable time to come.</p> + +<p>"By-the-by, Crabwitz," said Mr. Furnival, as the clerk was about to +leave the room.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>"You have never chanced to hear of an attorney named Dockwrath, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"What! in London, Mr. Furnival?"</p> + +<p>"No; I fancy he has no place of business in town. He lives I know at +Hamworth."</p> + +<p>"It's he you mean, sir, that is meddling in this affair of Lady +Mason's."</p> + +<p>"What! you have heard of that; have you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, sir. It's being a good deal talked about in the profession. +Messrs. Round and Crook's leading young man was up here with me the +other day, and he did say a good deal about it. He's a very decent +young man, considering his position, is Smart."</p> + +<p>"And he knows Dockwrath, does he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I can't say that he knows much of the man; but Dockwrath +has been at their place of business pretty constant of late, and he +and Mr. Matthew seem thick enough together."</p> + +<p>"Oh! they do; do they?"</p> + +<p>"So Smart tells me. I don't know how it is myself, sir. I don't +suppose this Dockwrath is a +<span class="nowrap">very—"</span></p> + +<p>"No, no; exactly. I dare say not. You've never seen him yourself, +Crabwitz?"</p> + +<p>"Who, sir? I, sir? No, sir, I've never set eyes on the man, sir. From +all I hear it's not very likely he should come here; and I'm sure it +is not at all likely that I should go to him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival sat thinking awhile, and the clerk stood waiting +opposite to him, leaning with both his hands upon the table. "You +don't know any one in the neighbourhood of Hamworth, I suppose?" Mr. +Furnival said at last.</p> + +<p>"Who, sir? I, sir? Not a soul, sir. I never was there in my life."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why I ask. I strongly suspect that that man Dockwrath +is at some very foul play." And then he told to his clerk so much of +the whole story of Lady Mason and her affairs as he chose that he +should know. "It is plain enough that he may give Lady Mason a great +deal of annoyance," he ended by saying.</p> + +<p>"There's no doubting that, sir," said Crabwitz. "And, to tell the +truth, I believe his mind is made up to do it."</p> + +<p>"You don't think that anything could be done by seeing him? Of course +Lady Mason has got nothing to compromise. Her son's estate is as safe +as my hat; <span class="nowrap">but—"</span></p> + +<p>"The people at Round's think it isn't quite so safe, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then the people at Round's know nothing about it. But Lady Mason is +so averse to legal proceedings that it would be worth her while to +have matters settled. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I understand. Would not an attorney be the best person, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not just at present, Crabwitz. Lady Mason is a very dear friend of +<span class="nowrap">mine—"</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; we know that," said Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>"If you could make any pretence for running down to Hamworth—change +of air, you know, for a week or so. It's a beautiful country; just +the place you like. And you might find out whether anything could be +done, eh?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crabwitz was well aware, from the first, that he did not get +fifty pounds for nothing.</p> + + +<p><a name="c26" id="c26"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> +<h3>WHY SHOULD I NOT?<br /> </h3> + + +<p>A day or two after his conversation with Crabwitz, as described in +the last chapter, Mr. Furnival was driven up to the door of Sir +Peregrine Orme's house in a Hamworth fly. He had come over by train +from Alston on purpose to see the baronet, whom he found seated in +his library. At that very moment he was again asking himself those +questions which he had before asked as he was walking up and down his +own dining-room. "Why should I not?" he said to himself,—"unless, +indeed, it will make her unhappy." And then the barrister was shown +into his room, muffled up to his eyes in his winter clothing.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine and Mr. Furnival were well known to each other, and had +always met as friends. They had been interested on the same side in +the first Orley Farm Case, and possessed a topic of sympathy in their +mutual dislike to Joseph Mason of Groby Park. Sir Peregrine therefore +was courteous, and when he learned the subject on which he was to be +consulted he became almost more than courteous.</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes; she's staying here, Mr. Furnival. Would you like to see +her?"</p> + +<p>"Before I leave I shall be glad to see her, Sir Peregrine; but if I +am justified in regarding you as specially her friend, it may perhaps +be well that I should first have some conversation with you." Sir +Peregrine in answer to this declared that Mr. Furnival certainly +would be so justified; that he did regard himself as Lady Mason's +special friend, and that he was ready to hear anything that the +barrister might have to say to him.</p> + +<p>Many of the points of this case have already been named so often, and +will, I fear, be necessarily named so often again that I will spare +the repetition when it is possible. Mr. Furnival on this occasion +told Sir Peregrine—not all that he had heard, but all that he +thought it necessary to tell, and soon became fully aware that in the +baronet's mind there was not the slightest shadow of suspicion that +Lady Mason could have been in any way to blame. He, the baronet, was +thoroughly convinced that Mr. Mason was the great sinner in this +matter, and that he was prepared to harass an innocent and excellent +lady from motives of disappointed cupidity and long-sustained malice, +which made him seem in Sir Peregrine's eyes a being almost too vile +for humanity. And of Dockwrath he thought almost as badly—only that +Dockwrath was below the level of his thinking. Of Lady Mason he spoke +as an excellent and beautiful woman driven to misery by unworthy +persecution; and so spoke with an enthusiasm that was surprising to +Mr. Furnival. It was very manifest that she would not want for +friendly countenance, if friendly countenance could carry her through +her difficulties.</p> + +<p>There was no suspicion against Lady Mason in the mind of Sir +Peregrine, and Mr. Furnival was careful not to arouse any such +feeling. When he found that the baronet spoke of her as being +altogether pure and good, he also spoke of her in the same tone; but +in doing so his game was very difficult. "Let him do his worst, Mr. +Furnival," said Sir Peregrine; "and let her remain tranquil; that is +my advice to Lady Mason. It is not possible that he can really injure +her."</p> + +<p>"It is possible that he can do nothing—very probable that he can do +nothing; but nevertheless, Sir +<span class="nowrap">Peregrine—"</span></p> + +<p>"I would have no dealing with him or his. I would utterly disregard +them. If he, or they, or any of them choose to take steps to annoy +her, let her attorney manage that in the usual way. I am no lawyer +myself, Mr. Furnival, but that I think is the manner in which things +of this kind should be arranged. I do not know whether they have +still the power of disputing the will, but if so, let them do it."</p> + +<p>Gradually, by very slow degrees, Mr. Furnival made Sir Peregrine +understand that the legal doings now threatened were not of that +nature;—that Mr. Mason did not now talk of proceeding at law for the +recovery of the property, but for the punishment of his father's +widow as a criminal; and at last the dreadful word "forgery" dropped +from his lips.</p> + +<p>"Who dares to make such a charge as that?" demanded the baronet, +while fire literally flashed from his eyes in his anger. And when he +was told that Mr. Mason did make such a charge he called him "a mean, +unmanly dastard." "I do not believe that he would dare to make it +against a man," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>But there was the fact of the charge—the fact that it had been +placed in the hands of respectable attorneys, with instructions to +them to press it on—and the fact also that the evidence by which +that charge was to be supported possessed at any rate a <i>primâ facie</i> +appearance of strength. All that it was necessary to explain to Sir +Peregrine, as it would also be necessary to explain it to Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Am I to understand, then, that you also think—?" began Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"You are not to understand that I think anything injurious to the +lady; but I do fear that she is in a position of much jeopardy, and +that great care will be necessary."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! Do you mean to say that an innocent person can under +such circumstances be in danger in this country?"</p> + +<p>"An innocent person, Sir Peregrine, may be in danger of very great +annoyance, and also of very great delay in proving that innocence. +Innocent people have died under the weight of such charges. We must +remember that she is a woman, and therefore weaker than you or I."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; but still—. You do not say that you think she can be in +any real danger?" It seemed, from the tone of the old man's voice, as +though he were almost angry with Mr. Furnival for supposing that such +could be the case. "And you intend to tell her all this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I fear that, as her friend, neither you nor I will be warranted in +keeping her altogether in the dark. Think what her feelings would be +if she were summoned before a magistrate without any preparation!"</p> + +<p>"No magistrate would listen to such a charge," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"In that he must be guided by the evidence."</p> + +<p>"I would sooner throw up my commission than lend myself in any way to +a proceeding so iniquitous."</p> + +<p>This was all very well, and the existence of such a feeling showed +great generosity, and perhaps also poetic chivalry on the part of Sir +Peregrine Orme; but it was not the way of the world, and so Mr. +Furnival was obliged to explain. Magistrates would listen to the +charge—would be forced to listen to the charge,—if the evidence +were apparently sound. A refusal on the part of a magistrate to do so +would not be an act of friendship to Lady Mason, as Mr. Furnival +endeavoured to explain. "And you wish to see her?" Sir Peregrine +asked at last.</p> + +<p>"I think she should be told; but as she is in your house, I will, of +course, do nothing in which you do not concur." Upon which Sir +Peregrine rang the bell and desired the servant to take his +compliments to Lady Mason and beg her attendance in the library if it +were quite convenient. "Tell her," said Sir Peregrine, "that Mr. +Furnival is here."</p> + +<p>When the message was given to her she was seated with Mrs. Orme, and +at the moment she summoned strength to say that she would obey the +invitation, without displaying any special emotion while the servant +was in the room; but when the door was shut, her friend looked at her +and saw that she was as pale as death. She was pale and her limbs +quivered, and that look of agony, which now so often marked her face, +was settled on her brow. Mrs. Orme had never yet seen her with such +manifest signs of suffering as she wore at this instant.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must go to them," she said, slowly rising from her seat; +and it seemed to Mrs. Orme that she was forced to hold by the table +to support herself.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival is a friend, is he not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! a kind friend, but—"</p> + +<p>"They shall come in here if you like it better, dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I will go to them. It would not do that I should seem so +weak. What must you think of me to see me so?"</p> + +<p>"I do not wonder at it, dear," said Mrs. Orme, coming round to her; +"such cruelty would kill me. I wonder at your strength rather than +your weakness." And then she kissed her. What was there about the +woman that had made all those fond of her that came near her?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme walked with her across the hall, and left her only at the +library door. There she pressed her hand and again kissed her, and +then Lady Mason turned the handle of the door and entered the room. +Mr. Furnival, when he looked at her, was startled by the pallor of +her face, but nevertheless he thought that she had never looked so +beautiful. "Dear Lady Mason," said he, "I hope you are well."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine advanced to her and handed her over to his own +arm-chair. Had she been a queen in distress she could not have been +treated with more gentle deference. But she never seemed to count +upon this, or in any way to assume it as her right. I should accuse +her of what I regard as a sin against all good taste were I to say +that she was humble in her demeanour; but there was a soft meekness +about her, an air of feminine dependence, a proneness to lean and +almost to cling as she leaned, which might have been felt as +irresistible by any man. She was a woman to know in her deep sorrow +rather than in her joy and happiness; one with whom one would love to +weep rather than to rejoice. And, indeed, the present was a time with +her for weeping, not for rejoicing.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine looked as though he were her father as he took her +hand, and the barrister immediately comforted himself with the +remembrance of the baronet's great age. It was natural, too, that +Lady Mason should hang on him in his own house. So Mr. Furnival +contented himself at the first moment with touching her hand and +hoping that she was well. She answered hardly a word to either of +them, but she attempted to smile as she sat down, and murmured +something about the trouble she was giving them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival thinks it best that you should be made aware of the +steps which are being taken by Mr. Mason of Groby Park," began Sir +Peregrine. "I am no lawyer myself, and therefore of course I cannot +put my advice against his."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that both of you will tell me for the best," she said.</p> + +<p>"In such a matter as this it is right that you should be guided by +him. That he is as firmly your friend as I am there can be no doubt."</p> + +<p>"I believe Lady Mason trusts me in that," said the lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do; I would trust you both in anything," she said.</p> + +<p>"And there can be no doubt that he must be able to direct you for the +best. I say so much at the first, because I myself so thoroughly +despise that man in Yorkshire,—I am so convinced that anything which +his malice may prompt him to do must be futile, that I could not +myself have thought it needful to pain you by what must now be said."</p> + +<p>This was a dreadful commencement, but she bore it, and even was +relieved by it. Indeed, no tale that Mr. Furnival could have to tell +after such an exordium would be so bad as that which she had feared +as the possible result of his visit. He might have come there to let +her know that she was at once to be carried away—immediately to be +taken to her trial—perhaps to be locked up in gaol. In her ignorance +of the law she could only imagine what might or might not happen to +her at any moment, and therefore the words which Sir Peregrine had +spoken relieved her rather than added to her fears.</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Furnival began his tale, and gradually put before her +the facts of the matter. This he did with a choice of language and a +delicacy of phraseology which were admirable, for he made her clearly +understand the nature of the accusation which was brought against her +without using any word which was in itself harsh in its bearing. He +said nothing about fraud, or forgery, or false evidence, but he made +it manifest to her that Joseph Mason had now instructed his lawyer to +institute a criminal proceeding against her for having forged a +codicil to her husband's will.</p> + +<p>"I must bear it as best I may," she said. "May the Lord give me +strength to bear it!"</p> + +<p>"It is terrible to think of," said Sir Peregrine; "but nobody can +doubt how it will end. You are not to suppose that Mr. Furnival +intends to express any doubt as to your ultimate triumph. What we +fear for you is the pain you must endure before this triumph comes."</p> + +<p>Ah, if that were all! As the baronet finished speaking she looked +furtively into the lawyer's face to see how far the meaning of these +smooth words would be supported by what she might read there. Would +he also think that a final triumph did certainly await her? Sir +Peregrine's real opinion was easily to be learned, either from his +countenance or from his words; but it was not so with Mr. Furnival. +In Mr. Furnival's face, and from Mr. Furnival's words, could be +learned only that which Mr. Furnival wished to declare. He saw that +glance, and fully understood it; and he knew instinctively, on the +spur of the moment, that he must now either assure her by a lie, or +break down all her hopes by the truth. That final triumph was not +certain to her—was very far from certain! Should he now be honest to +his friend, or dishonest? One great object with him was to secure the +support which Sir Peregrine could give by his weight in the county; +and therefore, as Sir Peregrine was present, it was needful that he +should be dishonest. Arguing thus he looked the lie, and Lady Mason +derived more comfort from that look than from all Sir Peregrine's +words.</p> + +<p>And then those various details were explained to her which Mr. +Furnival understood that Mr. Dockwrath had picked up. They went into +that matter of the partnership deed, and questions were asked as to +the man Kenneby and the woman Bolster. They might both, Lady Mason +said, have been witnesses to half a dozen deeds on that same day, for +aught she knew to the contrary. She had been present with Sir Joseph, +as far as she could now remember, during the whole of that morning, +"in and out, Sir Peregrine, as you can understand." Sir Peregrine +said that he did understand perfectly. She did know that Mr. Usbech +had been there for many hours that day, probably from ten to two or +three, and no doubt therefore much business was transacted. She +herself remembered nothing but the affair of the will; but then that +was natural, seeing that there was no other affair in which she had +specially interested herself.</p> + +<p>"No doubt these people did witness both the deeds," said Sir +Peregrine. "For myself, I cannot conceive how that wretched man can +be so silly as to spend his money on such a case as this."</p> + +<p>"He would do anything for revenge," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>And then Lady Mason was allowed to go back to the drawing-room, and +what remained to be said was said between the two gentlemen alone. +Sir Peregrine was very anxious that his own attorneys should be +employed, and he named Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile, than whom there +were no more respectable men in the whole profession. But then Mr. +Furnival feared that they were too respectable. They might look at +the matter in so straightforward a light as to fancy their client +really guilty; and what might happen then? Old Slow would not conceal +the truth for all the baronets in England—no, nor for all the pretty +women. The touch of Lady Mason's hand and the tear in her eye would +be nothing to old Slow. Mr. Furnival, therefore, was obliged to +explain that Slow and Bideawhile did not undertake that sort of +business.</p> + +<p>"But I should wish it to be taken up through them. There must be some +expenditure, Mr. Furnival, and I should prefer that they should +arrange about that."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival made no further immediate objection, and consented at +last to having an interview with one of the firm on the subject, +provided, of course, that that member of the firm came to him at his +chambers. And then he took his leave. Nothing positive had been done, +or even settled to be done, on this morning; but the persons most +interested in the matter had been made to understand that the affair +was taking an absolute palpable substance, and that steps must be +taken—indeed would be taken almost immediately. Mr. Furnival, as he +left the house, resolved to employ the attorneys whom he might think +best adapted for the purpose. He would settle that matter with Slow +and Bideawhile afterwards.</p> + +<p>And then, as he returned to Noningsby, he wondered at his persistence +in the matter. He believed that his client had been guilty; he +believed that this codicil was no real instrument made by Sir Joseph +Mason. And so believing, would it not be better for him to wash his +hands of the whole affair? Others did not think so, and would it not +be better that such others should be her advisers? Was he not taking +up for himself endless trouble and annoyance that could have no +useful purpose? So he argued with himself, and yet by the time that +he had reached Noningsby he had determined that he would stand by +Lady Mason to the last. He hated that man Mason, as he declared to +himself when providing himself with reasons for his resolve, and +regarded his bitter, malicious justice as more criminal than any +crime of which Lady Mason might have been guilty. And then as he +leaned back in the railway carriage he still saw her pale face before +him, still heard the soft tone of her voice, and was still melted by +the tear in her eye. Young man, young friend of mine, who art now +filled to the overflowing of thy brain with poetry, with chivalry, +and love, thou seest seated opposite to thee there that grim old man, +with long snuffy nose, with sharp piercing eyes, with scanty frizzled +hairs. He is rich and cross, has been three times married, and has +often quarrelled with his children. He is fond of his wine, and +snores dreadfully after dinner. To thy seeming he is a dry, withered +stick, from which all the sap of sentiment has been squeezed by the +rubbing and friction of years. Poetry, the feeling if not the words +of poetry,—is he not dead to it, even as the pavement is dead over +which his wheels trundle? Oh, my young friend! thou art ignorant in +this—as in most other things. He may not twitter of sentiment, as +thou doest; nor may I trundle my hoop along the high road as do the +little boys. The fitness of things forbids it. But that old man's +heart is as soft as thine, if thou couldst but read it. The body +dries up and withers away, and the bones grow old; the brain, too, +becomes decrepit, as do the sight, the hearing, and the soul. But the +heart that is tender once remains tender to the last.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason, when she left the library, walked across the hall towards +the drawing-room, and then she paused. She would fain remain alone +for a while if it were possible, and therefore she turned aside into +a small breakfast parlour, which was used every morning, but which +was rarely visited afterwards during the day. Here she sat, leaving +the door slightly open, so that she might know when Mr. Furnival left +the baronet. Here she sat for a full hour, waiting—waiting—waiting. +There was no sofa or lounging-chair in the room, reclining in which +she could remain there half sleeping, sitting comfortably at her +ease; but she placed herself near the table, and leaning there with +her face upon her hand, she waited patiently till Mr. Furnival had +gone. That her mind was full of thoughts I need hardly say, but yet +the hour seemed very long to her. At last she heard the library door +open, she heard Sir Peregrine's voice as he stood in the hall and +shook hands with his departing visitor, she heard the sound of the +wheels as the fly moved upon the gravel, and then she heard Sir +Peregrine again shut the library door behind him.</p> + +<p>She did not immediately get up from her chair; she still waited +awhile, perhaps for another period of ten minutes, and then she +noiselessly left the room, and moving quickly and silently across the +hall she knocked at Sir Peregrine's door. This she did so gently that +at first no answer was made to her. Then she knocked again, hardly +louder but with a repeated rap, and Sir Peregrine summoned her to +come in. "May I trouble you once more—for one moment?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly; it is no trouble. I am glad that you are here +in the house at this time, that you may see me at any moment that you +may wish."</p> + +<p>"I do not know why you should be so good to me."</p> + +<p>"Because you are in great grief, in undeserved grief, +<span class="nowrap">because—.</span> Lady +Mason, my services are at your command. I will act for you as I would +for a—daughter."</p> + +<p>"You hear now of what it is that they accuse me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he said; I do hear;" and as he spoke he came round so that he +was standing near to her, but with his back to the fireplace. "I do +hear, and I blush to think that there is a man in England, holding +the position of a county magistrate, who can so forget all that is +due to honesty, to humanity, and to self-respect."</p> + +<p>"You do not then think that I have been guilty of this thing?"</p> + +<p>"Guilty—I think you guilty! No, nor does he think so. It is +impossible that he should think so. I am no more sure of my own +innocence than of yours;" and as he spoke he took both her hands and +looked into her face, and his eyes also were full of tears. "You may +be sure of this, that neither I nor Edith will ever think you +guilty."</p> + +<p>"Dearest Edith," she said; she had never before called Sir +Peregrine's daughter-in-law by her Christian name, and as she now did +so she almost felt that she had sinned. But Sir Peregrine took it in +good part. "She is dearest," he said; "and be sure of this, that she +will be true to you through it all."</p> + +<p>And so they stood for a while without further speech. He still held +both her hands, and the tears still stood in his eyes. Her eyes were +turned to the ground, and from them the tears were running fast. At +first they ran silently, without audible sobbing, and Sir Peregrine, +with his own old eyes full of salt water, hardly knew that she was +weeping. But gradually the drops fell upon his hand, one by one at +first, and then faster and faster; and soon there came a low sob, a +sob all but suppressed, but which at last forced itself forth, and +then her head fell upon his shoulder. "My dear," he said, himself +hardly able to speak; "my poor dear, my ill-used dear!" and as she +withdrew one hand from his, that she might press a handkerchief to +her face, his vacant arm passed itself round her waist. "My poor, +ill-used dear!" he said again, as he pressed her to his old heart, +and leaning over her he kissed her lips.</p> + +<p>So she stood for some few seconds, feeling that she was pressed close +by the feeble pressure of his arm, and then she gradually sank +through from his embrace, and fell upon her knees at his feet. She +knelt at his feet, supporting herself with one arm upon the table, +and with the other hand she still held his hand over which her head +was bowed. "My friend," she said, still sobbing, and sobbing loudly +now; "my friend, that God has sent me in my trouble." And then, with +words that were wholly inaudible, she murmured some prayer on his +behalf.</p> + +<p>"I am better now," she said, raising herself quickly to her feet when +a few seconds had passed. "I am better now," and she stood erect +before him. "By God's mercy I will endure it; I think I can endure it +now."</p> + +<p>"If I can lighten the load—"</p> + +<p>"You have lightened it—of half its weight; but, Sir Peregrine, I +will leave <span class="nowrap">this—"</span></p> + +<p>"Leave this! go away from The Cleeve!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I will not destroy the comfort of your home by the wretchedness +of my position. I will <span class="nowrap">not—"</span></p> + +<p>"Lady Mason, my house is altogether at your service. If you will be +led by me in this matter, you will not leave it till this cloud shall +have passed by you. You will be better to be alone now;" and then +before she could answer him further, he led her to the door. She felt +that it was better for her to be alone, and she hastened up the +stairs to her own chamber.</p> + +<p>"And why should I not?" said Sir Peregrine to himself, as he again +walked the length of the library.</p> + + +<p><a name="c27" id="c27"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> +<h3>COMMERCE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lucius Mason was still staying at Noningsby when Mr. Furnival made +his visit to Sir Peregrine, and on that afternoon he received a note +from his mother. Indeed, there were three notes passed between them +on that afternoon, for he wrote an answer to his mother, and then +received a reply to that answer. Lady Mason told him that she did not +intend to return home to the Farm quite immediately, and explained +that her reason for not doing so was the necessity that she should +have assistance and advice at this period of her trouble. She did not +say that she misdoubted the wisdom of her son's counsels; but it +appeared to him that she intended to signify to him that she did so, +and he answered her in words that were sore and almost bitter. "I am +sorry," he said, "that you and I cannot agree about a matter that is +of such vital concern to both of us; but as it is so, we can only act +as each thinks best, you for yourself and I for myself. I am sure, +however, that you will believe that my only object is your happiness +and your fair name, which is dearer to me than anything else in the +world." In answer to this, she had written again immediately, filling +her letter with sweet words of motherly love, telling him that she +was sure, quite sure, of his affection and kind spirit, and excusing +herself for not putting the matter altogether in his hands by saying +that she was forced to lean on those who had supported her from the +beginning—through that former trial which had taken place when he, +Lucius, was yet a baby. "And, dearest Lucius, you must not be angry +with me," she went on to say; "I am suffering much under this cruel +persecution, but my sufferings would be more than doubled if my own +boy quarrelled with me." Lucius, when he received this, flung up his +head. "Quarrel with her," he said to himself; "nothing on earth would +make me quarrel with her; but I cannot say that that is right which I +think to be wrong." His feelings were good and honest, and kindly too +in their way; but tenderness of heart was not his weakness. I should +wrong him if I were to say that he was hard-hearted, but he flattered +himself that he was just-hearted, which sometimes is nearly the +same—as had been the case with his father before him, and was now +the case with his half-brother Joseph.</p> + +<p>The day after this was his last at Noningsby. He had told Lady +Staveley that he intended to go, and though she had pressed his +further stay, remarking that none of the young people intended to +move till after twelfth-night, nevertheless he persisted. With the +young people of the house themselves he had not much advanced +himself; and altogether he did not find himself thoroughly happy in +the judge's house. They were more thoughtless than he—as he thought; +they did not understand him, and therefore he would leave them. +Besides, there was a great day of hunting coming on, at which +everybody was to take a part, and as he did not hunt that gave him +another reason for going. "They have nothing to do but amuse +themselves," he said to himself; "but I have a man's work before me, +and a man's misfortunes. I will go home and face both."</p> + +<p>In all this there was much of conceit, much of pride, much of +deficient education,—deficiency in that special branch of education +which England has imparted to the best of her sons, but which is now +becoming out of fashion. He had never learned to measure himself +against others,—I do not mean his knowledge or his +book-acquirements, but the every-day conduct of his life,—and to +perceive that that which is insignificant in others must be +insignificant in himself also. To those around him at Noningsby his +extensive reading respecting the Iapetidæ recommended him not at all, +nor did his agricultural ambitions;—not even to Felix Graham, as a +companion, though Felix Graham could see further into his character +than did the others. He was not such as they were. He had not the +unpretentious, self-controlling humour, perfectly free from all +conceit, which was common to them. Life did not come easy to him, and +the effort which he was ever making was always visible. All men +should ever be making efforts, no doubt; but those efforts should not +be conspicuous. But yet Lucius Mason was not a bad fellow, and young +Staveley showed much want of discernment when he called him +empty-headed and selfish. Those epithets were by no means applicable +to him. That he was not empty-headed is certain; and he was moreover +capable of a great self-sacrifice.</p> + +<p>That his talents and good qualities were appreciated by one person in +the house, seemed evident to Lady Staveley and the other married +ladies of the party. Miss Furnival, as they all thought, had not +found him empty-headed. And, indeed, it may be doubted whether Lady +Staveley would have pressed his stay at Noningsby, had Miss Furnival +been less gracious. Dear Lady Staveley was always living in a fever +lest her only son, the light of her eyes, should fall irrevocably in +love with some lady that was by no means good enough for him. +Revocably in love he was daily falling; but some day he would go too +deep, and the waters would close over his well-loved head. Now in her +dear old favouring eyes Sophia Furnival was by no means good enough, +and it had been quite clear that Augustus had become thoroughly lost +in his attempts to bring about a match between Felix Graham and the +barrister's daughter. In preparing the bath for his friend he had +himself fallen bodily into the water. He was always at Miss +Furnival's side as long as Miss Furnival would permit it. But it +seemed to Lady Staveley that Miss Furnival, luckily, was quite as +fond of having Lucius Mason at her side;—that of the two she perhaps +preferred Lucius Mason. That her taste and judgment should be so bad +was wonderful to Lady Staveley; but this depravity though wonderful +was useful; and therefore Lucius Mason might have been welcome to +remain at Noningsby.</p> + +<p>It may, however, be possible that Miss Furnival knew what she was +doing quite as well as Lady Staveley could know for her. In the first +place she may possibly have thought it indiscreet to admit Mr. +Staveley's attentions with too much freedom. She may have doubted +their sincerity; or feared to give offence to the family, or Mr. +Mason may in her sight have been the preferable suitor. That his +gifts of intellect were at any rate equal to those of the other there +can be no doubt. Then, his gifts of fortune were already his own, and +for ought that Miss Furnival knew, might be equal to any that would +ever appertain to the other gentleman. That Lady Staveley should +think her swan better looking than Lady Mason's goose was very +natural; but then Lady Mason would no doubt have regarded the two +birds in an exactly opposite light. It is only fair to conceive that +Miss Furnival was a better judge than either of them.</p> + +<p>On the evening before his departure the whole party had been playing +commerce; for the rule of the house during these holidays was this, +that all the amusements brought into vogue were to be adapted to the +children. If the grown-up people could adapt themselves to them, so +much the better for them; if not, so much the worse; they must in +such case provide for themselves. On the whole, the grown-up people +seemed to live nearly as jovial a life as did the children. Whether +the judge himself was specially fond of commerce I cannot say; but he +persisted in putting in the whole pool, and played through the entire +game, rigidly fighting for the same pool on behalf of a very small +grandchild, who sat during the whole time on his knee. There are +those who call cards the devil's books, but we will presume that the +judge was of a different way of thinking.</p> + +<p>On this special evening Sophia had been sitting next to Augustus,—a +young man can always arrange these matters in his own house,—but had +nevertheless lost all her lives early in the game. "I will not have +any cheating to-night," she had said to her neighbour; "I will take +my chance, and if I die, I die. One can die but once." And so she had +died, three times indeed instead of once only, and had left the +table. Lucius Mason also had died. He generally did die the first, +having no aptitude for a collection of kings or aces, and so they two +came together over the fire in the second drawing-room, far away from +the card-players. There was nothing at all remarkable in this, as Mr. +Furnival and one or two others who did not play commerce were also +there; but nevertheless they were separated from those of the party +who were most inclined to criticise their conduct.</p> + +<p>"So you are leaving to-morrow, Mr. Mason," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I go home to-morrow after breakfast; to my own house, where for +some weeks to come I shall be absolutely alone."</p> + +<p>"Your mother is staying at The Cleeve, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes,—and intends remaining there as she tells me. I wish with all +my heart she were at Orley Farm."</p> + +<p>"Papa saw her yesterday. He went over to The Cleeve on purpose to see +her; and this morning he has been talking to me about her. I cannot +tell you how I grieve for her."</p> + +<p>"It is very sad; very sad. But I wish she were in her own house. +Under the circumstances as they now are, I think it would be better +for her to be there than elsewhere. Her name has been +<span class="nowrap">disgraced—"</span></p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Mason; not disgraced."</p> + +<p>"Yes; disgraced. Mark you; I do not say that she has been disgraced; +and pray do not suppose it possible that I should think so. But a +great opprobrium has been thrown on her name, and it would be better, +I think, that she should remain at home till she has cast it off from +her. Even for myself, I feel it almost wrong to be here; nor would I +have come had I known when I did come as much as I do know now."</p> + +<p>"But no one can for a moment think that your mother has done anything +that she should not have done."</p> + +<p>"Then why do so many people talk of her as though she had committed a +great crime? Miss Furnival, I know that she is innocent. I know it as +surely as I know the fact of my own +<span class="nowrap">existence—"</span></p> + +<p>"And we all feel the same thing."</p> + +<p>"But if you were in my place,—if it were your father whose name was +so bandied about in people's mouths, you would think that it behoved +him to do nothing, to go nowhere, till he had forced the world to +confess his innocence. And this is ten times stronger with regard to +a woman. I have given my mother my counsel, and I regret to say that +she differs from me."</p> + +<p>"Why do you not speak to papa?"</p> + +<p>"I did once. I went to him at his chambers, and he rebuked me."</p> + +<p>"Rebuked you, Mr. Mason! He did not do that intentionally I am sure. +I have heard him say that you are an excellent son."</p> + +<p>"But nevertheless he did rebuke me. He considered that I was +travelling beyond my own concerns, in wishing to interfere for the +protection of my mother's name. He said that I should leave it to +such people as the Staveleys and the Ormes to guard her from ignominy +and disgrace."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he did not mean that!"</p> + +<p>"But to me it seems that it should be a son's first duty. They are +talking of trouble and of cost. I would give every hour I have in the +day, and every shilling I own in the world to save her from one week +of such suffering as she now endures; but it cuts me to the heart +when she tells me that because she is suffering, therefore she must +separate herself from me. I think it would be better for her, Miss +Furnival, to be staying at home with me, than to be at The Cleeve."</p> + +<p>"The kindness of Mrs. Orme must be a great support to her."</p> + +<p>"And why should not my kindness be a support to her,—or rather my +affection? We know from whom all these scandals come. My desire is to +meet that man in a court of law and thrust these falsehoods down his +throat."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but you are a man."</p> + +<p>"And therefore I would take the burden from her shoulders. But no; +she will not trust to me. The truth, Miss Furnival, is this, that she +has not yet learned to think of me as a man. To her I am still the +boy for whom she is bound to provide, not the son who should bear for +her all her cares. As it is I feel that I do not dare again to +trouble her with my advice."</p> + +<p>"Grandmamma is dead," shouted out a shrill small voice from the +card-table. "Oh, grandmamma, do have one of my lives. Look! I've got +three," said another.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my dears; but the natural term of my existence has come, +and I will not rebel against fate."</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandmamma,—we'll let you have another grace."</p> + +<p>"By no means, Charley. Indeed I am not clear that I am entitled to +Christian burial, as it is."</p> + +<p>"A case of felo de se, I rather think," said her son. "About this +time of the night suicide does become common among the elders. +Unfortunately for me, the pistol that I have been snapping at my own +head for the last half-hour always hangs fire."</p> + +<p>There was not much of love-making in the conversation which had taken +place between young Mason and Sophia; not much at least up to this +point; but a confidence had been established, and before he left her +he did say a word or two that was more tender in its nature. "You +must not be in dudgeon with me," he said, "for speaking to you of all +this. Hitherto I have kept it all to myself, and perhaps I should +still have done so."</p> + +<p>"Oh no; do not say that."</p> + +<p>"I am in great grief. It is dreadful to me to hear these things said, +and as yet I have found no sympathy."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you, Mr. Mason, that I do sympathise with you most +sincerely. I only wish my sympathy could be of more value."</p> + +<p>"It will be invaluable," he said, not looking at her, but fixing his +eyes upon the fire, "if it be given with constancy from the first to +the last of this sad affair."</p> + +<p>"It shall be so given," said Miss Furnival, also looking at the fire.</p> + +<p>"It will be tolerably long, and men will say cruel things of us. I +can foresee this, that it will be very hard to prove to the world +with certainty that there is no foundation whatever for these +charges. If those who are now most friendly to us turn away from +<span class="nowrap">us—"</span></p> + +<p>"I will never turn away from you, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Then give me your hand on that, and remember that such a promise in +my ears means much." He in his excitement had forgotten that there +were others in the room who might be looking at them, and that there +was a vista open upon them direct from all the eyes at the +card-table; but she did not forget it. Miss Furnival could be very +enthusiastic, but she was one of those who in her enthusiasm rarely +forgot anything. Nevertheless, after a moment's pause, she gave him +her hand. "There it is," she said; "and you may be sure of this, that +with me also such a promise does mean something. And now I will say +good night." And so, having received the pressure of her hand, she +left him.</p> + +<p>"I will get you your candle," he said, and so he did.</p> + +<p>"Good night, papa," she said, kissing her father. And then, with a +slight muttered word to Lady Staveley, she withdrew, having +sacrificed the remainder of that evening for the sake of acceding to +Mr. Mason's request respecting her pledge. It could not be accounted +strange that she should give her hand to the gentleman with whom she +was immediately talking as she bade him good night.</p> + +<p>"And now grandpapa is dead too," said Marian, "and there's nobody +left but us three."</p> + +<p>"And we'll divide," said Fanny Sebright; and so the game of commerce +was brought to an end.</p> + + +<p><a name="c28" id="c28"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> +<h3>MONKTON GRANGE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>During these days Peregrine Orme—though he was in love up to his +very chin, seriously in love, acknowledging this matter to himself +openly, pulling his hair in the retirement of his bedroom, and +resolving that he would do that which he had hitherto in life always +been successful in doing—ask, namely, boldly for that he wanted +sorely—Peregrine Orme, I say, though he was in this condition, did +not in these days neglect his hunting. A proper attendance upon the +proceedings of the H. H. was the only duty which he had hitherto +undertaken in return for all that his grandfather had done for him, +and I have no doubt that he conceived that he was doing a duty in +going hither and thither about the county to their most distant +meets. At this period of the present season it happened that +Noningsby was more central to the proceedings of the hunt than The +Cleeve, and therefore he was enabled to think that he was remaining +away from home chiefly on business. On one point, however, he had +stoutly come to a resolution. That question should be asked of +Madeline Staveley before he returned to his grandfather's house.</p> + +<p>And now had arrived a special hunting morning,—special, because the +meet was in some degree a show meet, appropriate for ladies, at a +comfortable distance from Noningsby, and affording a chance of +amusement to those who sat in carriages as well as to those on +horseback. Monkton Grange was the well-known name of the place, a +name perhaps dearer to the ladies than to the gentlemen of the +country, seeing that show meets do not always give the best sport. +Monkton Grange is an old farm-house, now hardly used as such, having +been left, as regards the habitation, in the hands of a head +labourer; but it still possesses the marks of ancient respectability +and even of grandeur. It is approached from the high road by a long +double avenue of elms, which still stand in all their glory. The road +itself has become narrow, and the space between the side row of trees +is covered by soft turf, up which those coming to the meet love to +gallop, trying the fresh metal of their horses. And the old house +itself is surrounded by a moat, dry indeed now for the most part, but +nevertheless an evident moat, deep and well preserved, with a bridge +over it which Fancy tells us must once have been a drawbridge. It is +here, in front of the bridge, that the old hounds sit upon their +haunches, resting quietly round the horses of the huntsmen, while the +young dogs move about, and would wander if the whips allowed +them—one of the fairest sights to my eyes that this fair country of +ours can show. And here the sportsmen and ladies congregate by +degrees, men from a distance in dog-carts generally arriving first, +as being less able to calculate the time with accuracy. There is room +here too in the open space for carriages, and there is one spot on +which always stands old Lord Alston's chariot with the four posters; +an ancient sportsman he, who still comes to some few favourite meets; +and though Alston Court is but eight miles from the Grange, the +post-horses always look as though they had been made to do their +best, for his lordship likes to move fast even in his old age. He is +a tall thin man, bent much with age, and apparently too weak for much +walking; he is dressed from head to foot in a sportsman's garb, with +a broad stiffly starched coloured handkerchief tied rigidly round his +neck. One would say that old as he is he has sacrificed in no way to +comfort. It is with difficulty that he gets into his saddle, his +servant holding his rein and stirrup and giving him perhaps some +other slight assistance; but when he is there, there he will remain +all day, and when his old blood warms he will gallop along the road +with as much hot fervour as his grandson. An old friend he of Sir +Peregrine's. "And why is not your grandfather here to-day?" he said +on this occasion to young Orme. "Tell him from me that if he fails us +in this way, I shall think he is getting old." Lord Alston was in +truth five years older than Sir Peregrine, but Sir Peregrine at this +time was thinking of other things.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill28" id="ill28"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill28.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill28-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Monkton Grange." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Monkton Grange.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill28.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>And then a very tidy little modern carriage bustled up the road, a +brougham made for a pair of horses which was well known to all +hunting men in these parts. It was very unpretending in its colour +and harness; but no vehicle more appropriate to its purpose ever +carried two thorough-going sportsmen day after day about the country. +In this as it pulled up under the head tree of the avenue were seated +the two Miss Tristrams. The two Miss Tristrams were well known to the +Hamworth Hunt—I will not merely say as fearless riders,—of most +girls who hunt as much can be said as that; but they were judicious +horsewomen; they knew when to ride hard, and when hard riding, as +regarded any necessary for the hunt, would be absolutely thrown away. +They might be seen for half the day moving about the roads as +leisurely, or standing as quietly at the covert's side as might the +seniors of the fields. But when the time for riding did come, when +the hounds were really running—when other young ladies had begun to +go home—then the Miss Tristrams were always there;—there or +thereabouts, as their admirers would warmly boast.</p> + +<p>Nor did they commence their day's work as did other girls who came +out on hunting mornings. With most such it is clear to see that the +object is pretty much the same here as in the ballroom. "Spectatum +veniunt; veniunt spectentur ut ipsæ," as it is proper, natural, and +desirable that they should do. By that word "spectatum" I would wish +to signify something more than the mere use of the eyes. Perhaps an +occasional word dropped here and there into the ears of a cavalier +may be included in it; and the "spectentur" also may include a word +so received. But the Miss Tristrams came for hunting. Perhaps there +might be a slight shade of affectation in the manner by which they +would appear to come for that and that only. They would talk of +nothing else, at any rate during the earlier portion of the day, when +many listeners were by. They were also well instructed as to the +country to be drawn, and usually had a word of import to say to the +huntsman. They were good-looking, fair-haired girls, short in size, +with bright gray eyes, and a short decisive mode of speaking. It must +not be imagined that they were altogether indifferent to such matters +as are dear to the hearts of other girls. They were not careless as +to admiration, and if report spoke truth of them were willing enough +to establish themselves in the world; but all their doings of that +kind had a reference to their favourite amusement, and they would as +soon have thought of flirting with men who did not hunt as some other +girls would with men who did not dance.</p> + +<p>I do not know that this kind of life had been altogether successful +with them, or that their father had been right to permit it. He +himself had formerly been a hunting man, but he had become fat and +lazy, and the thing had dropped away from him. Occasionally he did +come out with them, but when he did not do so some other senior of +the field would have them nominally under charge; but practically +they were as independent when going across the country as the young +men who accompanied them. I have expressed a doubt whether this life +was successful with them, and indeed such doubt was expressed by many +of their neighbours. It had been said of each of them for the last +three years that she was engaged, now to this man, and then to that +other; but neither this man nor that other had yet made good the +assertion, and now people were beginning to say that no man was +engaged to either of them. Hunting young ladies are very popular in +the hunting-field; I know no place in which girls receive more +worship and attention; but I am not sure but they may carry their +enthusiasm too far for their own interests, let their horsemanship be +as perfect as it may be.</p> + +<p>The two girls on this occasion sat in their carriage till the groom +brought up their horses, and then it was wonderful to see with what +ease they placed themselves in their saddles. On such occasions they +admitted no aid from the gentlemen around them, but each stepping for +an instant on a servant's hand, settled herself in a moment on +horseback. Nothing could be more perfect than the whole thing, but +the wonder was that Mr. Tristram should have allowed it.</p> + +<p>The party from Noningsby consisted of six or seven on horseback, +besides those in the carriage. Among the former there were the two +young ladies, Miss Furnival and Miss Staveley, and our friends Felix +Graham, Augustus Staveley, and Peregrine Orme. Felix Graham was not +by custom a hunting man, as he possessed neither time nor money for +such a pursuit; but to-day he was mounted on his friend Staveley's +second horse, having expressed his determination to ride him as long +as they two, the man and the horse, could remain together.</p> + +<p>"I give you fair warning," Felix had said, "if I do not spare my own +neck, you cannot expect me to spare your horse's legs."</p> + +<p>"You may do your worst," Staveley had answered. "If you give him his +head, and let him have his own way, he won't come to grief, whatever +you may do."</p> + +<p>On their road to Monkton Grange, which was but three miles from +Noningsby, Peregrine Orme had ridden by the side of Miss Staveley, +thinking more of her than of the affairs of the hunt, prominent as +they were generally in his thoughts. How should he do it, and when, +and in what way should he commence the deed? He had an idea that it +might be better for him if he could engender some closer intimacy +between himself and Madeline before he absolutely asked the fatal +question; but the closer intimacy did not seem to produce itself +readily. He had, in truth, known Madeline Staveley for many years, +almost since they were children together; but lately, during these +Christmas holidays especially, there had not been between them that +close conversational alliance which so often facilitates such an +overture as that which Peregrine was now desirous of making. And, +worse again, he had seen that there was such close conversational +alliance between Madeline and Felix Graham. He did not on that +account dislike the young barrister, or call him, even within his own +breast, a snob or an ass. He knew well that he was neither the one +nor the other; but he knew as well that he could be no fit match for +Miss Staveley, and, to tell the truth, he did not suspect that either +Graham or Miss Staveley would think of such a thing. It was not +jealousy that tormented him, so much as a diffidence in his own +resources. He made small attempts which did not succeed, and +therefore he determined that he would at once make a grand attempt. +He would create himself an opportunity before he left Noningsby, and +would do it even to-day on horseback, if he could find sufficient +opportunity. In taking a determined step like that, he knew that he +would not lack the courage.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to ride to-day," he said to Madeline, as they were +approaching the bottom of the Grange avenue. For the last half-mile +he had been thinking what he would say to her, and thinking in vain; +and now, at the last moment, he could summon no words to his +assistance more potent for his purpose than these.</p> + +<p>"If you mean by riding, Mr. Orme, going across the fields with you +and the Miss Tristrams, certainly not. I should come to grief, as you +call it, at the first ditch."</p> + +<p>"And that is just what I shall do," said Felix Graham, who was at her +other side.</p> + +<p>"Then, if you take my advice, you'll remain with us in the wood, and +act as squire of dames. What on earth would Marian do if aught but +good was to befall you?"</p> + +<p>"Dear Marian! She gave me a special commission to bring her the fox's +tail. Foxes' tails are just like ladies."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Graham. I've heard you make some pretty compliments, +and that is about the prettiest."</p> + +<p>"A faint heart will never win either the one or the other, Miss +Staveley."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ah, yes. That will do very well. Under these circumstances I +will accept the comparison."</p> + +<p>All of which very innocent conversation was overheard by Peregrine +Orme, riding on the other side of Miss Staveley's horse. And why not? +Neither Graham nor Miss Staveley had any objection. But how was it +that he could not join in and take his share in it? He had made one +little attempt at conversation, and that having failed he remained +perfectly silent till they reached the large circle at the head of +the avenue. "It's no use, this sort of thing," he said to himself. "I +must do it at a blow, if I do it at all;" and then he rode away to +the master of the hounds.</p> + +<p>As our party arrived at the open space the Miss Tristrams were +stepping out of their carriage, and they came up to shake hands with +Miss Staveley.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad to see you," said the eldest; "it is so nice to have +some ladies out besides ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Do keep up with us," said the second. "It's a very open country +about here, and anybody can ride it." And then Miss Furnival was +introduced to them. "Does your horse jump, Miss Furnival?"</p> + +<p>"I really do not know," said Sophia; "but I sincerely trust that if +he does, he will refrain to-day."</p> + +<p>"Don't say so," said the eldest sportswoman. "If you'll only begin it +will come as easy to you as going along the road;" and then, not +being able to spare more of these idle moments, they both went off to +their horses, walking as though their habits were no impediments to +them, and in half a minute they were seated.</p> + +<p>"What is Harriet on to-day?" asked Staveley of a constant member of +the hunt. Now Harriet was the eldest Miss Tristram.</p> + +<p>"A little brown mare she got last week. That was a terrible brush we +had on Friday. You weren't out, I think. We killed in the open, just +at the edge of Rotherham Common. Harriet was one of the few that was +up, and I don't think the chestnut horse will be the better of it +this season."</p> + +<p>"That was the horse she got from Griggs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she gave a hundred and fifty for him; and I'm told he was as +nearly done on Friday as any animal you ever put your eyes on. They +say Harriet cried when she got home." Now the gentleman who was +talking about Harriet on this occasion was one with whom she would no +more have sat down to table than with her own groom.</p> + +<p>But though Harriet may have cried when she got home on that fatal +Friday evening, she was full of the triumph of the hunt on this +morning. It is not often that the hounds run into a fox and +absolutely surround and kill him on the open ground, and when this is +done after a severe run, there are seldom many there to see it. If a +man can fairly take a fox's brush on such an occasion as that, let +him do it; otherwise let him leave it to the huntsman. On the +occasion in question it seems that Harriet Tristram might have done +so, and some one coming second to her had been gallant enough to do +it for her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord, you should have been out on Friday," she said to Lord +Alston. "We had the prettiest thing I ever saw."</p> + +<p>"A great deal too pretty for me, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you who know the roads so well would certainly have been up. I +suppose it was thirteen miles from Cobbleton's Bushes to Rotherham +Common."</p> + +<p>"Not much less, indeed," said his lordship, unwilling to diminish the +lady's triumph. Had a gentleman made the boast his lordship would +have demonstrated that it was hardly more than eleven.</p> + +<p>"I timed it accurately from the moment he went away," said the lady, +"and it was exactly fifty-seven minutes. The first part of it was +awfully fast. Then we had a little check at Moseley Bottom. But for +that, nobody could have lived through it. I never shall forget how +deep it was coming up from there to Cringleton. I saw two men get off +to ease their horses up the deep bit of plough; and I would have done +so too, only my horse would not have stood for me to get up."</p> + +<p>"I hope he was none the worse for it," said the sporting character +who had been telling Staveley just now how she had cried when she got +home that night.</p> + +<p>"To tell the truth, I fear it has done him no good. He would not +feed, you know, that night at all."</p> + +<p>"And broke out into cold sweats," said the gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said the lady, not quite liking it, but still enduring +with patience.</p> + +<p>"Rather groggy on his pins the next morning?" suggested her friend.</p> + +<p>"Very groggy," said Harriet, regarding the word as one belonging to +fair sporting phraseology.</p> + +<p>"And inclined to go very much on the points of his toes. I know all +about it, Miss Tristam, as well as though I'd seen him."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing but rest for it, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Rest and regular exercise—that's the chief thing; and I should give +him a mash as often as three times a week. He'll be all right again +in three or four weeks,—that is if he's sound, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as sound as a bell," said Miss Tristram.</p> + +<p>"He'll never be the same horse on a road though," said the sporting +gentlemen, shaking his head and whispering to Staveley.</p> + +<p>And now the time had come at which they were to move. They always met +at eleven; and at ten minutes past, to the moment, Jacob the huntsman +would summons the old hounds from off their haunches. "I believe we +may be moving, Jacob," said Mr. Williams, the master.</p> + +<p>"The time be up," said Jacob, looking at a ponderous timekeeper that +might with truth be called a hunting-watch; and then they all moved +slowly away back from the Grange, down a farm-road which led to +Monkton Wood, distant from the old house perhaps a quarter of a mile.</p> + +<p>"May we go as far as the wood?" said Miss Furnival to Augustus. +"Without being made to ride over hedges, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, yes; and ride about the wood half the day. It will be an +hour and a half before a fox will break—even if he ever breaks."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! how tired you will be of us. Now do say something pretty, +Mr. Staveley."</p> + +<p>"It's not my <i>métier</i>. We shall be tired, not of you, but of the +thing. Galloping up and down the same cuts in the wood for an hour +and a half is not exciting; nor does it improve the matter much if we +stand still, as one should do by rights."</p> + +<p>"That would be very slow."</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid. They never do here. Everybody will be +rushing about as though the very world depended on their galloping."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad; that's just what I like."</p> + +<p>"Everybody except Lord Alston, Miss Tristram, and, the other old +stagers. They will husband their horses, and come out as fresh at two +o'clock as though they were only just out. There is nothing so +valuable as experience in hunting."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it nice seeing a young lady with so much hunting +knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"Now you want me to talk slander, but I won't do it. I admire the +Miss Tristrams exceedingly, and especially Julia."</p> + +<p>"And which is Julia?"</p> + +<p>"The youngest; that one riding by herself."</p> + +<p>"And why don't you go and express your admiration?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, me! why don't we all express the admiration that we feel, and +pour sweet praises into the ears of the lady that excites it? Because +we are cowards, Miss Furnival, and are afraid even of such a weak +thing as a woman."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! I should hardly have thought that you would suffer from +such terror as that."</p> + +<p>"Because you don't quite know me, Miss Furnival."</p> + +<p>"And Miss Julia Tristram is the lady that has excited it?"</p> + +<p>"If it be not she, it is some other fair votary of Diana at present +riding into Monkton Wood."</p> + +<p>"Ah, now you are giving me a riddle to guess, and I never guess +riddles. I won't even try at it. But they all seem to be stopping."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are putting the hounds into covert. Now if you want to +show yourself a good sportsman, look at your watch. You see that +Julia Tristram has got hers in her hand."</p> + +<p>"What's that for?"</p> + +<p>"To time the hounds; to see how long they'll be before they find. +It's very pretty work in a small gorse, but in a great wood like this +I don't care much for being so accurate. But for heaven's sake don't +tell Julia Tristram; I should not have a chance if she thought I was +so slack."</p> + +<p>And now the hounds were scattering themselves in the wood, and the +party rode up the centre roadway towards a great circular opening in +the middle of it. Here it was the recognised practice of the horsemen +to stand, and those who properly did their duty would stand there; +but very many lingered at the gate, knowing that there was but one +other exit from the wood, without overcoming the difficulty of a very +intricate and dangerous fence.</p> + +<p>"There be a gap, bain't there?" said one farmer to another, as they +were entering.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there be a gap, and young Grubbles broke his 'orse's back a +getting over of it last year," said the second farmer.</p> + +<p>"Did he though?" said the first; and so they both remained at the +gate.</p> + +<p>And others, a numerous body, including most of the ladies, galloped +up and down the cross ways, because the master of the hounds and the +huntsman did so. <span class="nowrap">"D——</span> +those fellows riding up and down after me +wherever I go," said the master. "I believe they think I'm to be +hunted." This seemed to be said more especially to Miss Tristram, who +was always in the master's confidence; and I fear that the fellows +alluded to included Miss Furnival and Miss Staveley.</p> + +<p>And then there came the sharp, eager sound of a hound's voice; a +single, sharp, happy opening bark, and Harriet Tristram was the first +to declare that the game was found. "Just five minutes and twenty +seconds, my lord," said Julia Tristram to Lord Alston. "That's not +bad in a large wood like this."</p> + +<p>"Uncommonly good," said his lordship. "And when are we to get out of +it?"</p> + +<p>"They'll be here for the next hour, I'm afraid," said the lady, not +moving her horse from the place where she stood, though many of the +more impetuous of the men were already rushing away to the gates. "I +have seen a fox go away from here without resting a minute; but that +was later in the season, at the end of February. Foxes are away from +home then." All which observations showed a wonderfully acute +sporting observation on the part of Miss Tristram.</p> + +<p>And then the music of the dogs became fast and frequent, as they +drove the brute across and along from one part of the large wood to +another. Sure there is no sound like it for filling a man's heart +with an eager desire to be at work. What may be the trumpet in battle +I do not know, but I can imagine that it has the same effect. And now +a few of them were standing on that wide circular piece of grass, +when a sound the most exciting of them all reached their ears. "He's +away!" shouted a whip from a corner of the wood. The good-natured +beast, though as yet it was hardly past Christmas-time, had consented +to bless at once so many anxious sportsmen, and had left the back of +the covert with the full pack at his heels.</p> + +<p>"There is no gate that way, Miss Tristram," said a gentleman.</p> + +<p>"There's a double ditch and bank that will do as well," said she, and +away she went directly after the hounds, regardless altogether of the +gates. Peregrine Orme and Felix Graham, who were with her, followed +close upon her track.</p> + + +<p><a name="c29" id="c29"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4> +<h3>BREAKING COVERT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"There's a double ditch and bank that will do as well," Miss Tristram +had said when she was informed that there was no gate out of the wood +at the side on which the fox had broken. The gentleman who had +tendered the information might as well have held his tongue, for Miss +Tristram knew the wood intimately, was acquainted with the locality +of all its gates, and was acquainted also with the points at which it +might be left, without the assistance of any gate at all, by those +who were well mounted and could ride their horses. Therefore she had +thus replied, "There's a double ditch and bank that will do as well." +And for the double ditch and bank at the end of one of the grassy +roadways Miss Tristram at once prepared herself.</p> + +<p>"That's the gap where Grubbles broke his horse's back," said a man in +a red coat to Peregrine Orme, and so saying he made up his wavering +mind and galloped away as fast as his nag could carry him. But +Peregrine Orme would not avoid a fence at which a lady was not afraid +to ride; and Felix Graham, knowing little but fearing nothing, +followed Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>At the end of the roadway, in the middle of the track, there was the +gap. For a footman it was doubtless the easiest way over the fence, +for the ditch on that side was half filled up, and there was space +enough left of the half-broken bank for a man's scrambling feet; but +Miss Tristram at once knew that it was a bad place for a horse. The +second or further ditch was the really difficult obstacle, and there +was no footing in the gap from which a horse could take his leap. To +the right of this the fence was large and required a good horse, but +Miss Tristram knew her animal and was accustomed to large fences. The +trained beast went well across on to the bank, poised himself there +for a moment, and taking a second spring carried his mistress across +into the further field apparently with ease. In that field the dogs +were now running, altogether, so that a sheet might have covered +them; and Miss Tristram, exulting within her heart and holding in her +horse, knew that she had got away uncommonly well.</p> + +<p>Peregrine Orme followed,—a little to the right of the lady's +passage, so that he might have room for himself, and do no mischief +in the event of Miss Tristram or her horse making any mistake at the +leap. He also got well over. But, alas! in spite of such early +success he was destined to see nothing of the hunt that day! Felix +Graham, thinking that he would obey instructions by letting his horse +do as he pleased, permitted the beast to come close upon Orme's track +and to make his jump before Orme's horse had taken his second spring.</p> + +<p>"Have a care," said Peregrine, feeling that the two were together on +the bank, "or you'll shove me into the ditch." He however got well +over.</p> + +<p>Felix, attempting to "have a care" just when his doing so could be of +no avail, gave his horse a pull with the curb as he was preparing for +his second spring. The outside ditch was broad and deep and well +banked up, and required that an animal should have all his power. It +was at such a moment as this that he should have been left to do his +work without injudicious impediment from his rider. But poor Graham +was thinking only of Orme's caution, and attempted to stop the beast +when any positive and absolute stop was out of the question. The +horse made his jump, and, crippled as he was, jumped short. He came +with his knees against the further bank, threw his rider, and then in +his struggle to right himself rolled over him.</p> + +<p>Felix felt at once that he was much hurt—that he had indeed come to +grief; but still he was not stunned nor did he lose his presence of +mind. The horse succeeded in gaining his feet, and then Felix also +jumped up and even walked a step or two towards the head of the +animal with the object of taking the reins. But he found that he +could not raise his arm, and he found also that he could hardly +breathe.</p> + +<p>Both Peregrine and Miss Tristram looked back. "There's nothing wrong +I hope," said the lady; and then she rode on. And let it be +understood that in hunting those who are in advance generally do ride +on. The lame and the halt and the wounded, if they cannot pick +themselves up, have to be picked up by those who come after them. But +Peregrine saw that there was no one else coming that way. The memory +of young Grubbles' fate had placed an interdict on that pass out of +the wood, which nothing short of the pluck and science of Miss +Tristram was able to disregard. Two cavaliers she had carried with +her. One she had led on to instant slaughter, and the other remained +to look after his fallen brother-in-arms. Miss Tristram in the mean +time was in the next field and had settled well down to her work.</p> + +<p>"Are you hurt, old fellow?" said Peregrine, turning back his horse, +but still not dismounting.</p> + +<p>"Not much, I think," said Graham, smiling. "There's something wrong +about my arm,—but don't you wait." And then he found that he spoke +with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Can you mount again?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'll mind that. Perhaps I'd better sit down." Then +Peregrine Orme knew that Graham was hurt, and jumping off his own +horse he gave up all hope of the hunt.</p> + +<p>"Here, you fellow, come and hold these horses." So invoked, a boy who +in following the sport had got as far as this ditch did as he was +bid, and scrambled over. "Sit down, Graham: there; I'm afraid you are +hurt. Did he roll on you?" But Felix merely looked up into his +face,—still smiling. He was now very pale, and for the moment could +not speak. Peregrine came close to him, and gently attempted to raise +the wounded limb; whereupon Graham shuddered, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I fear it is broken," said Peregrine. Graham nodded his head, and +raised his left hand to his breast; and Peregrine then knew that +something else was amiss also.</p> + +<p>I don't know any feeling more disagreeable than that produced by +being left alone in a field, when out hunting, with a man who has +been very much hurt and who is incapable of riding or walking. The +hurt man himself has the privilege of his infirmities and may remain +quiescent; but you, as his only attendant, must do something. You +must for the moment do all, and if you do wrong the whole +responsibility lies on your shoulders. If you leave a wounded man on +the damp ground, in the middle of winter, while you run away, five +miles perhaps, to the next doctor, he may not improbably—as you then +think—be dead before you come back. You don't know the way; you are +heavy yourself, and your boots are very heavy. You must stay +therefore; but as you are no doctor you don't in the least know what +is the amount of the injury. In your great trouble you begin to roar +for assistance; but the woods re-echo your words, and the distant +sound of the huntsman's horn, as he summons his hounds at a check, +only mocks your agony.</p> + +<p>But Peregrine had a boy with him. "Get upon that horse," he said at +last; "ride round to Farmer Griggs, and tell them to send somebody +here with a spring cart. He has got a spring cart I know;—and a +mattress in it."</p> + +<p>"But I hain't no gude at roiding like," said the boy, looking with +dismay at Orme's big horse.</p> + +<p>"Then run; that will be better, for you can go through the wood. You +know where Farmer Griggs lives. The first farm the other side of the +Grange."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, I knows where Farmer Griggs lives well enough."</p> + +<p>"Run, then; and if the cart is here in half an hour I'll give you a +sovereign."</p> + +<p>Inspirited by the hopes of such wealth, golden wealth, wealth for a +lifetime, the boy was quickly back over the fence, and Peregrine was +left alone with Felix Graham. He was now sitting down, with his feet +hanging into the ditch, and Peregrine was kneeling behind him. "I am +sorry I can do nothing more," said he; "but I fear we must remain +here till the cart comes."</p> + +<p>"I am—so—vexed—about your hunt," said Felix, gasping as he spoke. +He had in fact broken his right arm which had been twisted under him +as the horse rolled, and two of his ribs had been staved in by the +pommel of his saddle. Many men have been worse hurt and have hunted +again before the end of the season, but the fracture of three bones +does make a man uncomfortable for the time. "Now the cart—is—sent +for, couldn't you—go on?" But it was not likely that Peregrine Orme +would do that. "Never mind me," he said. "When a fellow is hurt he +has always to do as he's told. You'd better have a drop of sherry. +Look here: I've got a flask at my saddle. There; you can support +yourself with that arm a moment. Did you ever see horses stand so +quiet. I've got hold of yours, and now I'll fasten them together. I +say, Whitefoot, you don't kick, do you?" And then he contrived to +picket the horses to two branches, and having got out his case of +sherry, poured a small modicum into the silver mug which was attached +to the apparatus and again supported Graham while he drank. "You'll +be as right as a trivet by-and-by; only you'll have to make Noningsby +your headquarters for the next six weeks." And then the same idea +passed through the mind of each of them;—how little a man need be +pitied for such a misfortune if Madeline Staveley would consent to be +his nurse.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill29" id="ill29"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill29.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill29-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Felix Graham in trouble." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Felix Graham in trouble.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill29.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>No man could have less surgical knowledge than Peregrine Orme, but +nevertheless he was such a man as one would like to have with him if +one came to grief in such a way. He was cheery and up-hearted, but at +the same time gentle and even thoughtful. His voice was pleasant and +his touch could be soft. For many years afterwards Felix remembered +how that sherry had been held to his lips, and how the young heir of +The Cleeve had knelt behind him in his red coat, supporting him as he +became weary with waiting, and saying pleasant words to him through +the whole. Felix Graham was a man who would remember such things.</p> + +<p>In running through the wood the boy first encountered three horsemen. +They were the judge, with his daughter Madeline and Miss Furnival. +"There be a mon there who be a'most dead," said the boy, hardly able +to speak from want of breath. "I be agoing for Farmer Griggs' cart." +And then they stopped him a moment to ask for some description, but +the boy could tell them nothing to indicate that the wounded man was +one of their friends. It might however be Augustus, and so the three +rode on quickly towards the fence, knowing nothing of the +circumstances of the ditches which would make it out of their power +to get to the fallen sportsman.</p> + +<p>But Peregrine heard the sound of the horses and the voices of the +horsemen. "By Jove, there's a lot of them coming down here," said he. +"It's the judge and two of the girls. Oh, Miss Staveley, I'm so glad +you've come. Graham has had a bad fall and hurt himself. You haven't +a shawl, have you? the ground is so wet under him."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't signify at all," said Felix, looking round and seeing the +faces of his friends on the other side of the bank.</p> + +<p>Madeline Staveley gave a slight shriek which her father did not +notice, but which Miss Furnival heard very plainly. "Oh papa," she +said, "cannot you get over to him?" And then she began to bethink +herself whether it were possible that she should give up something of +her dress to protect the man who was hurt from the damp muddy ground +on which he lay.</p> + +<p>"Can you hold my horse, dear," said the judge, slowly dismounting; +for the judge, though he rode every day on sanitary considerations, +had not a sportsman's celerity in leaving and recovering his saddle. +But he did get down, and burdened as he was with a great-coat, he did +succeed in crossing that accursed fence. Accursed it was from +henceforward in the annals of the H. H., and none would ride it but +dare-devils who professed themselves willing to go at anything. Miss +Tristram, however, always declared that there was nothing in +it—though she avoided it herself, whispering to her friends that she +had led others to grief there, and might possibly do so again if she +persevered.</p> + +<p>"Could you hold the horse?" said Madeline to Miss Furnival; "and I +will go for a shawl to the carriage." Miss Furnival declared that to +the best of her belief she could not, but nevertheless the animal was +left with her, and Madeline turned round and galloped back towards +the carriage. She made her horse do his best though her eyes were +nearly blinded with tears, and went straight on for the carriage, +though she would have given much for a moment to hide those tears +before she reached it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! give me a thick shawl; Mr. Graham has hurt himself in the +field, and is lying on the grass." And then in some incoherent and +quick manner she had to explain what she knew of the accident before +she could get a carriage-cloak out of the carriage. This, however, +she did succeed in doing, and in some manner, very unintelligible to +herself afterwards, she did gallop back with her burden. She passed +the cloak over to Peregrine, who clambered up the bank to get it, +while the judge remained on the ground, supporting the young +barrister. Felix Graham, though he was weak, was not stunned or +senseless, and he knew well who it was that had procured for him that +comfort.</p> + +<p>And then the carriage followed Madeline, and there was quite a +concourse of servants and horses and ladies on the inside of the +fence. But the wounded man was still unfortunately on the other side. +No cart from Farmer Griggs made its appearance, though it was now +more than half an hour since the boy had gone. Carts, when they are +wanted in such sudden haste, do not make their appearance. It was two +miles through the wood to Mr. Griggs's farm-yard, and more than three +miles back by any route which the cart could take. And then it might +be more than probable that in Farmer Griggs's establishment there was +not always a horse ready in harness, or a groom at hand prepared to +yoke him. Peregrine had become very impatient, and had more than once +invoked a silent anathema on the farmer's head; but nevertheless +there was no appearance of the cart.</p> + +<p>"We must get him across the ditches into the carriage," said the +judge.</p> + +<p>"If Lady Staveley will let us do that," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"The difficulty is not with Lady Staveley but with these nasty +ditches," said the judge, for he had been up to his knees in one of +them, and the water had penetrated his boots. But the task was at +last done. Mrs. Arbuthnot stood up on the back seat of the carriage +so that she might hold the horses, and the coachman and footman got +across into the field. "It would be better to let me lie here all +day," said Felix, as three of them struggled back with their burden, +the judge bringing up the rear with two hunting-whips and Peregrine's +cap. "How on earth any one would think of riding over such a place as +that!" said the judge. But then, when he had been a young man it had +not been the custom for barristers to go out hunting.</p> + +<p>Madeline, as she saw the wounded man carefully laid on the back seat +of the carriage, almost wished that she could have her mother's place +that she might support him. Would they be careful enough with him? +Would they remember how terrible must be the pain of that motion to +one so hurt as he was? And then she looked into his face as he was +made to lean back, and she saw that he still smiled. Felix Graham was +by no means a handsome man; I should hardly sin against the truth if +I were to say that he was ugly. But Madeline, as she looked at him +now lying there utterly without colour but always with that smile on +his countenance, thought that no face to her liking had ever been +more gracious. She still rode close to him as they went down the +grassy road, saying never a word. And Miss Furnival rode there also, +somewhat in the rear, condoling with the judge as to his wet feet.</p> + +<p>"Miss Furnival," he said, "when a judge forgets himself and goes out +hunting he has no right to expect anything better. What would your +father have said had he seen me clambering up the bank with young +Orme's hunting-cap between my teeth? I positively did."</p> + +<p>"He would have rushed to assist you," said Miss Furnival, with a +little burst of enthusiasm which was hardly needed on the occasion. +And then Peregrine came after them leading Graham's horse. He had +been compelled to return to the field and ride both the horses back +into the wood; one after the other, while the footman held them. That +riding back over fences in cold blood is the work that really tries a +man's nerve. And a man has to do it too when no one is looking on. +How he does crane and falter and look about for an easy place at such +a moment as that! But when the blood is cold, no places are easy.</p> + +<p>The procession got back to Noningsby without adventure, and Graham as +a matter of course was taken up to his bed. One of the servants had +been despatched to Alston for a surgeon, and in an hour or two the +extent of the misfortune was known. The right arm was broken—"very +favourably," as the doctor observed. But two ribs were +broken—"rather unfavourably." There was some talk of hæmorrhage and +inward wounds, and Sir Jacob from Saville Row was suggested by Lady +Staveley. But the judge, knowing the extent of Graham's means, made +some further preliminary inquiries, and it was considered that Sir +Jacob would not be needed—at any rate not as yet.</p> + +<p>"Why don't they send for him?" said Madeline to her mother with +rather more than her wonted energy.</p> + +<p>"Your papa does not think it necessary, my dear. It would be very +expensive, you know."</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, would you let a man die because it would cost a few +pounds to cure him?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, we all hope that Mr. Graham won't die—at any rate not at +present. If there be any danger you may be sure that your papa will +send for the best advice."</p> + +<p>But Madeline was by no means satisfied. She could not understand +economy in a matter of life and death. If Sir Jacob's coming would +have cost fifty pounds, or a hundred, what would that have signified, +weighed in such a balance? Such a sum would be nothing to her father. +Had Augustus fallen and broken his arm all the Sir Jacobs in London +would not have been considered too costly could their joint coming +have mitigated any danger. She did not however dare to speak to her +mother again, so she said a word or two to Peregrine Orme, who was +constant in his attendance on Felix. Peregrine had been very kind, +and she had seen it, and her heart therefore warmed towards him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think he ought to have more advice, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no; I don't know. He's very jolly, you know; only he can't +talk. One of the bones ran into him, but I believe he's all right."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that is so frightful!" and the tears were again in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"If I were him I should think one doctor enough. But it's easy enough +having a fellow down from London, you know, if you like it."</p> + +<p>"If he should get worse, Mr. Orme—." And then Peregrine made her a +sort of promise, but in doing so an idea shot through his poor heart +of what the truth might really be. He went back and looked at Felix +who was sleeping. "If it is so I must bear it," he said to himself; +"but I'll fight it on;" and a quick thought ran through his brain of +his own deficiencies. He knew that he was not clever and bright in +talk like Felix Graham. He could not say the right thing at the right +moment without forethought. How he wished that he could! But still he +would fight it on, as he would have done any losing match,—to the +last. And then he sat down by Felix's head, and resolved that he +would be loyal to his new friend all the same—loyal in all things +needful. But still he would fight it on.</p> + + +<p><a name="c30" id="c30"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4> +<h3>ANOTHER FALL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Felix Graham had plenty of nurses, but Madeline was not one of them. +Augustus Staveley came home while the Alston doctor was still busy at +the broken bones, and of course he would not leave his friend. He was +one of those who had succeeded in the hunt, and consequently had +heard nothing of the accident till the end of it. Miss Tristram had +been the first to tell him that Mr. Graham had fallen in leaving the +covert, but having seen him rise to his legs she had not thought he +was seriously hurt.</p> + +<p>"I do not know much about your friend," she had said; "but I think I +may comfort you by an assurance that your horse is none the worse. I +could see as much as that."</p> + +<p>"Poor Felix!" said, Staveley. "He has lost a magnificent run. I +suppose we are nine or ten miles from Monkton Grange now?"</p> + +<p>"Eleven if we are a yard," said the lady. "It was an ugly country, +but the pace was nothing wonderful." And then others dropped in, and +at last came tidings about Graham. At first there was a whisper that +he was dead. He had ridden over Orme, it was said; had nearly killed +him, and had quite killed himself. Then the report became less fatal. +Both horses were dead, but Graham was still living though with most +of his bones broken.</p> + +<p>"Don't believe it," said Miss Tristram. "In what condition Mr. Graham +may be I won't say; but that your horse was safe and sound after he +got over the fence, of that you may take my word." And thus, in a +state of uncertainty, obtaining fresh rumours from every person he +passed, Staveley hurried home. "Right arm and two ribs," Peregrine +said to him, as he met him in the hall. "Is that all?" said Augustus. +It was clear therefore that he did not think so much about it as his +sister.</p> + +<p>"If you'd let her have her head she'd never have come down like +that," Augustus said, as he sat that evening by his friend's bedside.</p> + +<p>"But he pulled off, I fancy, to avoid riding over me," said +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Then he must have come too quick at his leap," said Augustus. "You +should have steadied him as he came to it." From all which Graham +perceived that a man cannot learn how to ride any particular horse by +two or three words of precept.</p> + +<p>"If you talk any more about the horse, or the hunt, or the accident, +neither of you shall stay in the room," said Lady Staveley, who came +in at that moment. But they both did stay in the room, and said a +great deal more about the hunt, and the horse, and the accident +before they left it; and even became so far reconciled to the +circumstance that they had a hot glass of brandy and water each, +sitting by Graham's fire.</p> + +<p>"But, Augustus, do tell me how he is," Madeline said to her brother, +as she caught him going to his room. She had become ashamed of asking +any more questions of her mother.</p> + +<p>"He's all right; only he'll be as fretful as a porcupine, shut up +there. At least I should be. Are there lots of novels in the house? +Mind you send for a batch to-morrow. Novels are the only chance a man +has when he's laid up like that." Before breakfast on the following +morning Madeline had sent off to the Alston circulating library a +list of all the best new novels of which she could remember the +names.</p> + +<p>No definite day had hitherto been fixed for Peregrine's return to The +Cleeve, and under the present circumstances he still remained at +Noningsby assisting to amuse Felix Graham. For two days after the +accident such seemed to be his sole occupation; but in truth he was +looking for an opportunity to say a word or two to Miss Staveley, and +paving his way as best he might for that great speech which he was +fully resolved that he would make before he left the house. Once or +twice he bethought himself whether he would not endeavour to secure +for himself some confidant in the family, and obtain the sanction and +special friendship either of Madeline's mother, or her sister, or her +brother. But what if after that she should reject him? Would it not +be worse for him then that any one should have known of his defeat? +He could, as he thought, endure to suffer alone; but on such a matter +as that pity would be unendurable. So as he sat there by Graham's +fireside, pretending to read one of poor Madeline's novels for the +sake of companionship, he determined that he would tell no one of his +intention;—no one till he could make the opportunity for telling +her.</p> + +<p>And when he did meet her, and find, now and again, some moment for +saying a word alone to her, she was very gracious to him. He had been +so kind and gentle with Felix, there was so much in him that was +sweet and good and honest, so much that such an event as this brought +forth and made manifest, that Madeline, and indeed the whole family, +could not but be gracious to him. Augustus would declare that he was +the greatest brick he had ever known, repeating all Graham's words as +to the patience with which the embryo baronet had knelt behind him on +the cold muddy ground, supporting him for an hour, till the carriage +had come up. Under such circumstances how could Madeline refrain from +being gracious to him?</p> + +<p>"But it is all from favour to Graham!" Peregrine would say to himself +with bitterness; and yet though he said so he did not quite believe +it. Poor fellow! It was all from favour to Graham. And could he have +thoroughly believed the truth of those words which he repeated to +himself so often, he might have spared himself much pain. He might +have spared himself much pain, and possibly some injury; for if aught +could now tend to mature in Madeline's heart an affection which was +but as yet nascent, it would be the offer of some other lover. But +such reasoning on the matter was much too deep for Peregrine Orme. +"It may be," he said to himself, "that she only pities him because he +is hurt. If so, is not this time better for me than any other? If it +be that she loves him, let me know it, and be out of my pain." It did +not then occur to him that circumstances such as those in question +could not readily be made explicit;—that Madeline might refuse his +love, and yet leave him no wiser than he now was as to her reasons +for so refusing;—perhaps, indeed, leave him less wise, with +increased cause for doubt and hopeless hope, and the green melancholy +of a rejected lover.</p> + +<p>Madeline during these two days said no more about the London doctor; +but it was plain to all who watched her that her anxiety as to the +patient was much more keen than that of the other ladies of the +house. "She always thinks everybody is going to die," Lady Staveley +said to Miss Furnival, intending, not with any consummate prudence, +to account to that acute young lady for her daughter's solicitude. +"We had a cook here, three months since, who was very ill, and +Madeline would never be easy till the doctor assured her that the +poor woman's danger was altogether past."</p> + +<p>"She is so very warm-hearted," said Miss Furnival in reply. "It is +quite delightful to see her. And she will have such pleasure when she +sees him come down from his room."</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley on this immediate occasion said nothing to her +daughter, but Mrs. Arbuthnot considered that a sisterly word might +perhaps be spoken in due season.</p> + +<p>"The doctor says he is doing quite well now," Mrs. Arbuthnot said to +her, as they were sitting alone.</p> + +<p>"But does he indeed? Did you hear him?" said Madeline, who was +suspicious.</p> + +<p>"He did so, indeed. I heard him myself. But he says also that he +ought to remain here, at any rate for the next fortnight,—if mamma +can permit it without inconvenience."</p> + +<p>"Of course she can permit it. No one would turn any person out of +their house in such a condition as that!"</p> + +<p>"Papa and mamma both will be very happy that he should stay here;—of +course they would not do what you call turning him out. But, Mad, my +darling,"—and then she came up close and put her arm round her +sister's waist. "I think mamma would be more comfortable in his +remaining here if your charity towards him were—what shall I +say?—less demonstrative."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Isabella?"</p> + +<p>"Dearest, dearest; you must not be angry with me. Nobody has hinted +to me a word on the subject, nor do I mean to hint anything that can +possibly be hurtful to you."</p> + +<p>"But what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know, darling? He is a young man—and—and—people see +with such unkind eyes, and hear with such scandal-loving ears. There +is that Miss <span class="nowrap">Furnival—"</span></p> + +<p>"If Miss Furnival can think such things, I for one do not care what +she thinks."</p> + +<p>"No, nor do I;—not as regards any important result. But may it not +be well to be careful? You know what I mean, dearest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I know. At least I suppose so. And it makes me know also how +very cold and shallow and heartless people are! I won't ask any more +questions, Isabella; but I can't know that a fellow-creature is +suffering in the house,—and a person like him too, so clever, whom +we all regard as a friend,—the most intimate friend in the world +that Augustus has,—and the best too, as I heard papa himself +say—without caring whether he is going to live or die."</p> + +<p>"There is no danger now, you know."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I am glad to hear it. Though I know very well that there +must be danger after such a terrible accident as that."</p> + +<p>"The doctor says there is none."</p> + +<p>"At any rate I will not—" And then instead of finishing her sentence +she turned away her head and put up her handkerchief to wipe away a +tear.</p> + +<p>"You are not angry with me, dear?" said Mrs. Arbuthnot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Madeline; and then they parted.</p> + +<p>For some days after that Madeline asked no question whatever about +Felix Graham, but it may be doubted whether this did not make the +matter worse. Even Sophia Furnival would ask how he was at any rate +twice a day, and Lady Staveley continued to pay him regular visits at +stated intervals. As he got better she would sit with him, and +brought back reports as to his sayings. But Madeline never discussed +any of these; and refrained alike from the conversation, whether his +broken bones or his unbroken wit were to be the subject of it. And +then Mrs. Arbuthnot, knowing that she would still be anxious, gave +her private bulletins as to the state of the sick man's +progress;—all which gave an air of secrecy to the matter, and caused +even Madeline to ask herself why this should be so.</p> + +<p>On the whole I think that Mrs. Arbuthnot was wrong. Mrs. Arbuthnot +and the whole Staveley family would have regarded a mutual attachment +between Mr. Graham and Madeline as a great family misfortune. The +judge was a considerate father to his children, holding that a +father's control should never be brought to bear unnecessarily. In +looking forward to the future prospects of his sons and daughters it +was his theory that they should be free to choose their life's +companions for themselves. But nevertheless it could not be agreeable +to him that his daughter should fall in love with a man who had +nothing, and whose future success at his own profession seemed to be +so very doubtful. On the whole I think that Mrs. Arbuthnot was wrong, +and that the feeling that did exist in Madeline's bosom might more +possibly have died away, had no word been said about it—even by a +sister.</p> + +<p>And then another event happened which forced her to look into her own +heart. Peregrine Orme did make his proposal. He waited patiently +during those two or three days in which the doctor's visits were +frequent, feeling that he could not talk about himself while any +sense of danger pervaded the house. But then at last a morning came +on which the surgeon declared that he need not call again till the +morrow; and Felix himself, when the medical back was turned, +suggested that it might as well be to-morrow week. He began also to +scold his friends, and look bright about the eyes, and drink his +glass of sherry in a pleasant dinner-table fashion, not as if he were +swallowing his physic. And Peregrine, when he saw all this, resolved +that the moment had come for the doing of his deed of danger. The +time would soon come at which he must leave Noningsby, and he would +not leave Noningsby till he had learned his fate.</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley, who with a mother's eye had seen her daughter's +solicitude for Felix Graham's recovery,—had seen it, and +animadverted on it to herself,—had seen also, or at any rate had +suspected, that Peregrine Orme looked on her daughter with favouring +eyes. Now Peregrine Orme would have satisfied Lady Staveley as a +son-in-law. She liked his ways and manners of thought—in spite of +those rumours as to the rat-catching which had reached her ears. She +regarded him as quite clever enough to be a good husband, and no +doubt appreciated the fact that he was to inherit his title and The +Cleeve from an old grandfather instead of a middle-aged father. She +therefore had no objection to leave Peregrine alone with her one +ewe-lamb, and therefore the opportunity which he sought was at last +found.</p> + +<p>"I shall be leaving Noningsby to-morrow, Miss Staveley," he said one +day, having secured an interview in the back drawing-room—in that +happy half-hour which occurs in winter before the world betakes +itself to dress. Now I here profess my belief, that out of every ten +set offers made by ten young lovers, nine of such offers are +commenced with an intimation that the lover is going away. There is a +dash of melancholy in such tidings well suited to the occasion. If +there be any spark of love on the other side it will be elicited by +the idea of a separation. And then, also, it is so frequently the +actual fact. This making of an offer is in itself a hard piece of +business,—a job to be postponed from day to day. It is so postponed, +and thus that dash of melancholy, and that idea of separation are +brought in at the important moment with so much appropriate truth.</p> + +<p>"I shall be leaving Noningsby to-morrow, Miss Staveley," Peregrine +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! we shall be so sorry. But why are you going? What will Mr. +Graham and Augustus do without you? You ought to stay at least till +Mr. Graham can leave his room."</p> + +<p>"Poor Graham!—not that I think he is much to be pitied either; but +he won't be about for some weeks to come yet."</p> + +<p>"You do not think he is worse; do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no; not at all." And Peregrine was unconsciously irritated +against his friend by the regard which her tone evinced. "He is quite +well; only they will not let him be moved. But, Miss Staveley, it was +not of Mr. Graham that I was going to speak."</p> + +<p>"No—only I thought he would miss you so much." And then she blushed, +though the blush in the dark of the evening was lost upon him. She +remembered that she was not to speak about Felix Graham's health, and +it almost seemed as though Mr. Orme had rebuked her for doing so in +saying that he had not come there to speak of him.</p> + +<p>"Lady Staveley's house has been turned up side down since this +affair, and it is time now that some part of the trouble should +cease."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mamma does not mind it at all."</p> + +<p>"I know how good she is; but nevertheless, Miss Staveley, I must go +to-morrow." And then he paused a moment before he spoke again. "It +will depend entirely upon you," he said, "whether I may have the +happiness of returning soon to Noningsby."</p> + +<p>"On me, Mr. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, on you. I do not know how to speak properly that which I have +to say; but I believe I may as well say it out at once. I have come +here now to tell you that I love you and to ask you to be my wife." +And then he stopped as though there were nothing more for him to say +upon the matter.</p> + +<p>It would be hardly extravagant to declare that Madeline's breath was +taken away by the very sudden manner in which young Orme had made his +proposition. It had never entered her head that she had an admirer in +him. Previously to Graham's accident she had thought nothing about +him. Since that event she had thought about him a good deal; but +altogether as of a friend of Graham's. He had been good and kind to +Graham, and therefore she had liked him and had talked to him. He had +never said a word to her that had taught her to regard him as a +possible lover; and now that he was an actual lover, a declared lover +standing before her, waiting for an answer, she was so astonished +that she did not know how to speak. All her ideas too, as to +love,—such ideas as she had ever formed, were confounded by his +abruptness. She would have thought, had she brought herself +absolutely to think upon it, that all speech of love should be very +delicate; that love should grow slowly, and then be whispered softly, +doubtingly, and with infinite care. Even had she loved him, or had +she been in the way towards loving him, such violence as this would +have frightened her and scared her love away. Poor Peregrine! His +intentions had been so good and honest! He was so true and hearty, +and free from all conceit in the matter! It was a pity that he should +have marred his cause by such ill judgment.</p> + +<p>But there he stood waiting an answer,—and expecting it to be as +open, definite, and plain as though he had asked her to take a walk +with him. "Madeline," he said, stretching out his hand when he +perceived that she did not speak to him at once. "There is my hand. +If it be possible give me yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"I know that I have not said what I had to say very—very gracefully. +But you will not regard that I think. You are too good, and too +true."</p> + +<p>She had now seated herself, and he was standing before her. She had +retreated to a sofa in order to avoid the hand which he had offered +her; but he followed her, and even yet did not know that he had no +chance of success. "Mr. Orme," she said at last, speaking hardly +above her breath, "what has made you do this?"</p> + +<p>"What has made me do it? What has made me tell you that I love you?"</p> + +<p>"You cannot be in earnest!"</p> + +<p>"Not in earnest! By heavens, Miss Staveley, no man who has said the +same words was ever more in earnest. Do you doubt me when I tell you +that I love you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so sorry!" And then she hid her face upon the arm of the +sofa and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>Peregrine stood there, like a prisoner on his trial, waiting for a +verdict. He did not know how to plead his cause with any further +language; and indeed no further language could have been of any +avail. The judge and jury were clear against him, and he should have +known the sentence without waiting to have it pronounced in set +terms. But in plain words he had made his offer, and in plain words +he required that an answer should be given to him. "Well," he said, +"will you not speak to me? Will you not tell me whether it shall be +so?"</p> + +<p>"No,—no,—no," she said.</p> + +<p>"You mean that you cannot love me." And as he said this the agony of +his tone struck her ear and made her feel that he was suffering. +Hitherto she had thought only of herself, and had hardly recognised +it as a fact that he could be thoroughly in earnest.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Orme, I am very sorry. Do not speak as though you were angry +with me. <span class="nowrap">But—"</span></p> + +<p>"But you cannot love me?" And then he stood again silent, for there +was no reply. "Is it that, Miss Staveley, that you mean to answer? If +you say that with positive assurance, I will trouble you no longer." +Poor Peregrine! He was but an unskilled lover!</p> + +<p>"No!" she sobbed forth through her tears; but he had so framed his +question that he hardly knew what No meant.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you cannot love me, or may I hope that a day will +<span class="nowrap">come—?</span> May I speak to +you <span class="nowrap">again—?"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no! I can answer you now. It grieves me to the heart. I know +you are so good. But, Mr. <span class="nowrap">Orme—"</span></p> + +<p>"Well—"</p> + +<p>"It can never, never be."</p> + +<p>"And I must take that as answer?"</p> + +<p>"I can make no other." He still stood before her,—with gloomy and +almost angry brow, could she have seen him; and then he thought he +would ask her whether there was any other love which had brought +about her scorn for him. It did not occur to him, at the first +moment, that in doing so he would insult and injure her.</p> + +<p>"At any rate I am not flattered by a reply which is at once so +decided," he began by saying.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mr. Orme, do not make me more unhappy—"</p> + +<p>"But perhaps I am too late. Perhaps—" Then he remembered himself and +paused. "Never mind," he said, speaking to himself rather than to +her. "Good-bye, Miss Staveley. You will at any rate say good-bye to +me. I shall go at once now."</p> + +<p>"Go at once! Go away, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; why should I stay here? Do you think that I could sit down to +table with you all after that? I will ask your brother to explain my +going; I shall find him in his room. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>She took his hand mechanically, and then he left her. When she came +down to dinner she looked furtively round to his place and saw that +it was vacant.</p> + + +<p><a name="c31" id="c31"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4> +<h3>FOOTSTEPS IN THE CORRIDOR.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Upon my word I am very sorry," said the judge. "But what made him go +off so suddenly? I hope there's nobody ill at The Cleeve!" And then +the judge took his first spoonful of soup.</p> + +<p>"No, no; there is nothing of that sort," said Augustus. "His +grandfather wants him, and Orme thought he might as well start at +once. He was always a sudden harum-scarum fellow like that."</p> + +<p>"He's a very pleasant, nice young man," said Lady Staveley; "and +never gives himself any airs. I like him exceedingly."</p> + +<p>Poor Madeline did not dare to look either at her mother or her +brother, but she would have given much to know whether either of them +were aware of the cause which had sent Peregrine Orme so suddenly +away from the house. At first she thought that Augustus surely did +know, and she was wretched as she thought that he might probably +speak to her on the subject. But he went on talking about Orme and +his abrupt departure till she became convinced that he knew nothing +and suspected nothing of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>But her mother said never a word after that eulogium which she had +uttered, and Madeline read that eulogium altogether aright. It said +to her ears that if ever young Orme should again come forward with +his suit, her mother would be prepared to receive him as a suitor; +and it said, moreover, that if that suitor had been already sent away +by any harsh answer, she would not sympathise with that harshness.</p> + +<p>The dinner went on much as usual, but Madeline could not bring +herself to say a word. She sat between her brother-in-law, Mr. +Arbuthnot, on one side, and an old friend of her father's, of thirty +years' standing, on the other. The old friend talked exclusively to +Lady Staveley, and Mr. Arbuthnot, though he now and then uttered a +word or two, was chiefly occupied with his dinner. During the last +three or four days she had sat at dinner next to Peregrine Orme, and +it seemed to her now that she always had been able to talk to him. +She had liked him so much too! Was it not a pity that he should have +been so mistaken! And then as she sat after dinner, eating five or +six grapes, she felt that she was unable to recall her spirits and +look and speak as she was wont to do: a thing had happened which had +knocked the ground from under her—had thrown her from her equipoise, +and now she lacked the strength to recover herself and hide her +dismay.</p> + +<p>After dinner, while the gentlemen were still in the dining-room, she +got a book, and nobody disturbed her as she sat alone pretending to +read it. There never had been any intimate friendship between her and +Miss Furnival, and that young lady was now employed in taking the +chief part in a general conversation about wools. Lady Staveley got +through a good deal of wool in the course of the year, as also did +the wife of the old thirty-years' friend; but Miss Furnival, short as +her experience had been, was able to give a few hints to them both, +and did not throw away the occasion. There was another lady there, +rather deaf, to whom Mrs. Arbuthnot devoted herself, and therefore +Madeline was allowed to be alone.</p> + +<p>Then the men came in, and she was obliged to come forward and +officiate at the tea-table. The judge insisted on having the teapot +and urn brought into the drawing-room, and liked to have his cup +brought to him by one of his own daughters. So she went to work and +made the tea; but still she felt that she scarcely knew how to go +through her task. What had happened to her that she should be thus +beside herself, and hardly capable of refraining from open tears? She +knew that her mother was looking at her, and that now and again +little things were done to give her ease if any ease were possible.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter with my Madeline?" said her father, looking +up into her face, and holding the hand from which he had taken his +cup.</p> + +<p>"No, papa; only I have got a headache."</p> + +<p>"A headache, dear; that's not usual with you."</p> + +<p>"I have seen that she has not been well all the evening," said Lady +Staveley; "but I thought that perhaps she might shake it off. You had +better go, my dear, if you are suffering. Isabella, I'm sure, will +pour out the tea for us."</p> + +<p>And so she got away, and skulked slowly up stairs to her own room. +She felt that it was skulking. Why should she have been so weak as to +have fled in that way? She had no headache—nor was it heartache that +had now upset her. But a man had spoken to her openly of love, and no +man had ever so spoken to her before.</p> + +<p>She did not go direct to her own chamber, but passed along the +corridor towards her mother's dressing-room. It was always her custom +to remain there some half-hour before she went to bed, doing little +things for her mother, and chatting with any other girl who might be +intimate enough to be admitted there. Now she might remain there for +an hour alone without danger of being disturbed; and she thought to +herself that she would remain there till her mother came, and then +unburthen herself of the whole story.</p> + +<p>As she went along the corridor she would have to pass the room which +had been given up to Felix Graham. She saw that the door was ajar, +and as she came close up to it, she found the nurse in the act of +coming out from the room. Mrs. Baker had been a very old servant in +the judge's family, and had known Madeline from the day of her birth. +Her chief occupation for some years had been nursing when there was +anybody to nurse, and taking a general care and surveillance of the +family's health when there was no special invalid to whom she could +devote herself. Since Graham's accident she had been fully employed, +and had greatly enjoyed the opportunities it had given her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Baker was in the doorway as Madeline attempted to pass by on +tiptoe. "Oh, he's a deal better now, Miss Madeline, so that you +needn't be afeard of disturbing;—ain't you, Mr. Graham?" So she was +thus brought into absolute contact with her friend, for the first +time since he had hurt himself.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill31" id="ill31"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill31.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill31-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Footsteps in the corridor." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Footsteps in the corridor.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill31.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Indeed I am," said Felix; "I only wish they'd let me get up and go +down stairs. Is that Miss Staveley, Mrs. Baker?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sure. Come, my dear, he's got his dressing-gown on, and you may +just come to the door and ask him how he does."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to hear that you are so much better, Mr. Graham," +said Madeline, standing in the doorway with averted eyes, and +speaking with a voice so low that it only just reached his ears.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Staveley; I shall never know how to express what I +feel for you all."</p> + +<p>"And there's none of 'em have been more anxious about you than she, I +can tell you; and none of 'em ain't kinder-hearteder," said Mrs. +Baker.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will be up soon and be able to come down to the +drawing-room," said Madeline. And then she did glance round, and for +a moment saw the light of his eye as he sat upright in the bed. He +was still pale and thin, or at least she fancied so, and her heart +trembled within her as she thought of the danger he had passed.</p> + +<p>"I do so long to be able to talk to you again; all the others come +and visit me, but I have only heard the sounds of your footsteps as +you pass by."</p> + +<p>"And yet she always walks like a mouse," said Mrs. Baker.</p> + +<p>"But I have always heard them," he said. "I hope Marian thanked you +for the books. She told me how you had gotten them for me."</p> + +<p>"She should not have said anything about them; it was Augustus who +thought of them," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"Marian comes to me four or five times a day," he continued; "I do +not know what I should do without her."</p> + +<p>"I hope she is not noisy," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"Laws, miss, he don't care for noise now, only he ain't good at +moving yet, and won't be for some while."</p> + +<p>"Pray take care of yourself, Mr. Graham," she said; "I need not tell +you how anxious we all are for your recovery. Good night, Mr. +Graham." And then she passed on to her mother's dressing-room, and +sitting herself down in an arm-chair opposite to the fire began to +think—to think, or else to try to think.</p> + +<p>And what was to be the subject of her thoughts? Regarding Peregrine +Orme there was very little room for thinking. He had made her an +offer, and she had rejected it as a matter of course, seeing that she +did not love him. She had no doubt on that head, and was well aware +that she could never accept such an offer. On what subject then was +it necessary that she should think?</p> + +<p>How odd it was that Mr. Graham's room door should have been open on +this especial evening, and that nurse should have been standing +there, ready to give occasion for that conversation! That was the +idea that first took possession of her brain. And then she recounted +all those few words which had been spoken as though they had had some +special value—as though each word had been laden with interest. She +felt half ashamed of what she had done in standing there and speaking +at his bedroom door, and yet she would not have lost the chance for +worlds. There had been nothing in what had passed between her and the +invalid. The very words, spoken elsewhere, or in the presence of her +mother and sister, would have been insipid and valueless; and yet she +sat there feeding on them as though they were of flavour so rich that +she could not let the sweetness of them pass from her. She had been +stunned at the idea of poor Peregrine's love, and yet she never asked +herself what was this new feeling. She did not inquire—not yet at +least—whether there might be danger in such feelings.</p> + +<p>She remained there, with eyes fixed on the burning coals, till her +mother came up. "What, Madeline," said Lady Staveley, "are you here +still? I was in hopes you would have been in bed before this."</p> + +<p>"My headache is gone now, mamma; and I waited +<span class="nowrap">because—"</span></p> + +<p>"Well, dear; because what?" and her mother came and stood over her +and smoothed her hair. "I know very well that something has been the +matter. There has been something; eh, Madeline?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma."</p> + +<p>"And you have remained up that we may talk about it. Is that it, +dearest?"</p> + +<p>"I did not quite mean that, but perhaps it will be best. I can't be +doing wrong, mamma, in telling you."</p> + +<p>"Well; you shall judge of that yourself;" and Lady Staveley sat down +on the sofa so that she was close to the chair which Madeline still +occupied. "As a general rule I suppose you could not be doing wrong; +but you must decide. If you have any doubt, wait till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"No, mamma; I will tell you now. Mr. Orme—"</p> + +<p>"Well, dearest. Did Mr. Orme say anything specially to you before he +went away?"</p> + +<p>"He—he—"</p> + +<p>"Come to me, Madeline, and sit here. We shall talk better then." And +the mother made room beside her on the sofa for her daughter, and +Madeline, running over, leaned with her head upon her mother's +shoulder. "Well, darling; what did he say? Did he tell you that he +loved you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma."</p> + +<p>"And you answered him—"</p> + +<p>"I could only tell him—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. Poor fellow! But, Madeline, is he not an excellent +young man;—one, at any rate, that is lovable? Of course in such a +matter the heart must answer for itself. But I, looking at the offer +as a mother—I could have been well +<span class="nowrap">pleased—"</span></p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I could not—"</p> + +<p>"Well, love, there shall be an end of it; at least for the present. +When I heard that he had gone suddenly away I thought that something +had happened."</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry that he should be unhappy, for I know that he is +good."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is good; and your father likes him, and Augustus. In such a +matter as this, Madeline, I would never say a word to persuade you. I +should think it wrong to do so. But it may be, dearest, that he has +flurried you by the suddenness of his offer; and that you have not +yet thought much about it."</p> + +<p>"But, mamma, I know that I do not love him."</p> + +<p>"Of course. That is natural. It would have been a great misfortune if +you had loved him before you had reason to know that he loved you;—a +great misfortune. But now,—now that you cannot but think of him, now +that you know what his wishes are, perhaps you may +<span class="nowrap">learn—"</span></p> + +<p>"But I have refused him, and he has gone away."</p> + +<p>"Young gentlemen under such circumstances sometimes come back again."</p> + +<p>"He won't come back, mamma, because—because I told him so plainly—I +am sure he understands that it is all to be at an end."</p> + +<p>"But if he should, and if you should then think differently towards +<span class="nowrap">him—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"But if you should, it may be well that you should know how all your +friends esteem him. In a worldly view the marriage would be in all +respects prudent; and as to disposition and temper, which I admit are +much more important, I confess I think that he has all the qualities +best adapted to make a wife happy. But, as I said before, the heart +must speak for itself."</p> + +<p>"Yes; of course. And I know that I shall never love him;—not in that +way."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure, dearest, that there will be no constraint put upon +you. It might be possible that I or your papa should forbid a +daughter's marriage, if she had proposed to herself an imprudent +match; but neither he nor I would ever use our influence with a child +to bring about a marriage because we think it prudent in a worldly +point of view." And then Lady Staveley kissed her daughter.</p> + +<p>"Dear mamma, I know how good you are to me." And she answered her +mother's embrace by the pressure of her arm. But nevertheless she did +not feel herself to be quite comfortable. There was something in the +words which her mother had spoken which grated against her most +cherished feelings;—something, though she by no means knew what. Why +had her mother cautioned her in that way, that there might be a case +in which she would refuse her sanction to a proposed marriage? +Isabella's marriage had been concluded with the full agreement of the +whole family; and she, Madeline, had certainly never as yet given +cause either to father or mother to suppose that she would be +headstrong and imprudent. Might not the caution have been +omitted?—or was it intended to apply in any way to circumstances as +they now existed?</p> + +<p>"You had better go now, dearest," said Lady Staveley, "and for the +present we will not think any more about this gallant young knight." +And then Madeline, having said good night, went off rather +crestfallen to her own room. In doing so she again had to pass +Graham's door, and as she went by it, walking not quite on tiptoe, +she could not help asking herself whether or no he would really +recognise the sound of her footsteps.</p> + +<p>It is hardly necessary to say that Lady Staveley had conceived to +herself a recognised purpose in uttering that little caution to her +daughter; and she would have been quite as well pleased had +circumstances taken Felix Graham out of her house instead of +Peregrine Orme. But Felix Graham must necessarily remain for the next +fortnight, and there could be no possible benefit in Orme's return, +at any rate till Graham should have gone.</p> + + +<p><a name="c32" id="c32"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4> +<h3>WHAT BRIDGET BOLSTER HAD TO SAY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It has been said in the earlier pages of this story that there was no +prettier scenery to be found within thirty miles of London than that +by which the little town of Hamworth was surrounded. This was so +truly the case that Hamworth was full of lodgings which in the autumn +season were always full of lodgers. The middle of winter was +certainly not the time for seeing the Hamworth hills to advantage; +nevertheless it was soon after Christmas that two rooms were taken +there by a single gentleman who had come down for a week, apparently +with no other view than that of enjoying himself. He did say +something about London confinement and change of air; but he was +manifestly in good health, had an excellent appetite, said a great +deal about fresh eggs,—which at that time of the year was hardly +reasonable, and brought with him his own pale brandy. This gentleman +was Mr. Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>The house at which he was to lodge had been selected with +considerable judgment. It was kept by a tidy old widow known as Mrs. +Trump; but those who knew anything of Hamworth affairs were well +aware that Mrs. Trump had been left without a shilling, and could not +have taken that snug little house in Paradise Row and furnished it +completely, out of her own means. No. Mrs. Trump's lodging-house was +one of the irons which Samuel Dockwrath ever kept heating in the +fire, for the behoof of those fourteen children. He had taken a lease +of the house in Paradise Row, having made a bargain and advanced a +few pounds while it was yet being built; and he then had furnished it +and put in Mrs. Trump. Mrs. Trump received from him wages and a +percentage; but to him were paid over the quota of shillings per week +in consideration for which the lodgers were accommodated. All of +which Mr. Crabwitz had ascertained before he located himself in +Paradise Row.</p> + +<p>And when he had so located himself he soon began to talk to Mrs. +Trump about Mr. Dockwrath. He himself, as he told her in confidence, +was in the profession of the law; he had heard of Mr. Dockwrath, and +should be very glad if that gentleman would come over and take a +glass of brandy and water with him some evening.</p> + +<p>"And a very clever sharp gentleman he is," said Mrs. Trump.</p> + +<p>"With a tolerably good business, I suppose?" asked Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>"Pretty fair for that, sir. But he do be turning his hand to +everything. He's a mortal long family of his own, and he has need of +it all, if it's ever so much. But he'll never be poor for the want of +looking after it."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Dockwrath did not come near his lodger on the first evening, +and Mr. Crabwitz made acquaintance with Mrs. Dockwrath before he saw +her husband. The care of the fourteen children was not supposed to be +so onerous but that she could find a moment now and then to see +whether Mrs. Trump kept the furniture properly dusted, and did not +infringe any of the Dockwrathian rules. These were very strict; and +whenever they were broken it was on the head of Mrs. Dockwrath that +the anger of the ruler mainly fell.</p> + +<p>"I hope you find everything comfortable, sir," said poor Miriam, +having knocked at the sitting-room door when Crabwitz had just +finished his dinner.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you; very nice. Is that Mrs. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I'm Mrs. Dockwrath. As it's we who own the room I looked +in to see if anything's wanting."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind. No; nothing is wanting. But I should be delighted +to make your acquaintance if you would stay for a moment. Might I ask +you to take a chair?" and Mr. Crabwitz handed her one.</p> + +<p>"Thank you; no, sir I won't intrude."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, Mrs. Dockwrath. But the fact is, I'm a lawyer myself, +and I should be so glad to become known to your husband. I have heard +a great deal of his name lately as to a rather famous case in which +he is employed."</p> + +<p>"Not the Orley Farm case?" said Mrs. Dockwrath immediately.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; exactly."</p> + +<p>"And is he going on with that, sir?" asked Mrs. Dockwrath with great +interest.</p> + +<p>"Is he not? I know nothing about it myself, but I always supposed +that such was the case. If I had such a wife as you, Mrs. Dockwrath, +I should not leave her in doubt as to what I was doing in my own +profession."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about it, Mr. Cooke;"—for it was as Mr. Cooke that +he now sojourned at Hamworth. Not that it should be supposed he had +received instructions from Mr. Furnival to come down to that place +under a false name. From Mr. Furnival he had received no further +instructions on that matter than those conveyed at the end of a +previous chapter. "I know nothing about it, Mr. Cooke; and don't want +to know generally. But I am anxious about this Orley Farm case. I do +hope that he's going to drop it." And then Mr. Crabwitz elicited her +view of the case with great ease.</p> + +<p>On that evening, about nine, Mr. Dockwrath did go over to Paradise +Row, and did allow himself to be persuaded to mix a glass of brandy +and water and light a cigar. "My missus tells me, sir, that you +belong to the profession as well as myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; I'm a lawyer, Mr. Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>"Practising in town as an attorney, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not as an attorney on my own hook exactly. I chiefly employ my time +in getting up cases for barristers. There's a good deal done in that +way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed," said Mr. Dockwrath, beginning to feel himself the +bigger man of the two; and from that moment he patronised his +companion instead of allowing himself to be patronised.</p> + +<p>This went against the grain with Mr. Crabwitz, but, having an object +to gain, he bore it. "We hear a great deal up in London just at +present about this Orley Farm case, and I always hear your name as +connected with it. I had no idea when I was taking these lodgings +that I was coming into a house belonging to that Mr. Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>"The same party, sir," said Mr. Dockwrath, blowing the smoke out of +his mouth as he looked up to the ceiling.</p> + +<p>And then by degrees Mr. Crabwitz drew him into conversation. +Dockwrath was by nature quite as clever a man as Crabwitz, and in +such a matter as this was not one to be outwitted easily; but in +truth he had no objection to talk about the Orley Farm case. "I have +taken it up on public motives, Mr. Cooke," he said, "and I mean to go +through with it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; in such a case as that you will no doubt go through +with it?"</p> + +<p>"That's my intention, I assure you. And I tell you what; young +Mason,—that's the son of the widow of the old man who made the +<span class="nowrap">will—"</span></p> + +<p>"Or rather who did not make it, as you say."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; he made the will; but he did not make the codicil—and +that young Mason has no more right to the property than you have."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't he now?"</p> + +<p>"No; and I can prove it too."</p> + +<p>"Well; the general opinion in the profession is that Lady Mason will +stand her ground and hold her own. I don't know what the points are +myself, but I have heard it discussed, and that is certainly what +people think."</p> + +<p>"Then people will find that they are very much mistaken."</p> + +<p>"I was talking to one of Round's young men about it, and I fancy they +are not very sanguine."</p> + +<p>"I do not care a fig for Round or his young men. It would be quite as +well for Joseph Mason if Round and Crook gave up the matter +altogether. It lies in a nutshell, and the truth must come out +whatever Round and Crook may choose to say. And I'll tell you +more—old Furnival, big a man as he thinks himself, cannot save her."</p> + +<p>"Has he anything to do with it?" asked Mr. Cooke.</p> + +<p>"Yes; the sly old fox. My belief is that only for him she'd give up +the battle, and be down on her marrow-bones asking for mercy."</p> + +<p>"She'd have little chance of mercy, from what I hear of Joseph +Mason."</p> + +<p>"She'd have to give up the property of course. And even then I don't +know whether he'd let her off. By heavens! he couldn't let her off +unless I chose." And then by degrees he told Mr. Cooke some of the +circumstances of the case.</p> + +<p>But it was not till the fourth evening that Mr. Dockwrath spent with +his lodger that the intimacy had so far progressed as to enable Mr. +Crabwitz to proceed with his little scheme. On that day Mr. Dockwrath +had received a notice that at noon on the following morning Mr. +Joseph Mason and Bridget Bolster would both be at the house of +Messrs. Round and Crook in Bedford Row, and that he could attend at +that hour if it so pleased him. It certainly would so please him, he +said to himself when he got that letter; and in the evening he +mentioned to his new friend the business which was taking him to +London.</p> + +<p>"If I might advise you in the matter, Mr. Dockwrath," said Crabwitz, +"I should stay away altogether."</p> + +<p>"And why so?"</p> + +<p>"Because that's not your market. This poor devil of a woman—for she +is a poor devil of a <span class="nowrap">woman—"</span></p> + +<p>"She'll be poor enough before long."</p> + +<p>"It can't be any gratification to you running her down."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but the justice of the thing."</p> + +<p>"Bother. You're talking now to a man of the world. Who can say what +is the justice or the injustice of anything after twenty years of +possession? I have no doubt the codicil did express the old man's +wish,—even from your own story. But of course you are looking for +your market. Now it seems to me that there's a thousand pounds in +your way as clear as daylight."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it myself, Mr. Cooke."</p> + +<p>"No; but I do. The sort of thing is done every day. You have your +father-in-law's office journal?"</p> + +<p>"Safe enough."</p> + +<p>"Burn it;—or leave it about in these rooms like;—so that somebody +else may burn it."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see the thousand pounds first."</p> + +<p>"Of course you'd do nothing till you knew about that;—nothing except +keeping away from Round and Crook to-morrow. The money would be +forthcoming if the trial were notoriously dropped by next assizes."</p> + +<p>Dockwrath sat thinking for a minute or two, and every moment of +thought made him feel more strongly that he could not now succeed in +the manner pointed out by Mr. Cooke. "But where would be the market +you are talking of?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I could manage that," said Crabwitz.</p> + +<p>"And go shares in the business?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; nothing of the sort." And then he added, remembering that he +must show that he had some personal object, "If I got a trifle in the +matter it would not come out of your allowance."</p> + +<p>The attorney again sat silent for a while, and now he remained so for +full five minutes, during which Mr. Crabwitz puffed the smoke from +between his lips with a look of supreme satisfaction. "May I ask," at +last Mr. Dockwrath said, "whether you have any personal interest in +this matter?"</p> + +<p>"None in the least;—that is to say, none as yet."</p> + +<p>"You did not come down here with any view—"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no; nothing of the sort. But I see at a glance that it is +one of those cases in which a compromise would be the most judicious +solution of difficulties. I am well used to this kind of thing, Mr. +Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>"It would not do, sir," said Mr. Dockwrath, after some further slight +period of consideration. "It wouldn't do. Round and Crook have all +the dates, and so has Mason too. And the original of that partnership +deed is forthcoming; and they know what witnesses to depend on. No, +sir; I've begun this on public grounds, and I mean to carry it on. I +am in a manner bound to do so as the representative of the attorney +of the late Sir Joseph Mason;—and by heavens, Mr. Cooke, I'll do my +duty."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you're right," said Mr. Crabwitz, mixing a quarter of a +glass more brandy and water.</p> + +<p>"I know I'm right, sir," said Dockwrath. "And when a man knows he's +right, he has a deal of inward satisfaction in the feeling." After +that Mr. Crabwitz was aware that he could be of no use at Hamworth, +but he stayed out his week in order to avoid suspicion.</p> + +<p>On the following day Mr. Dockwrath did proceed to Bedford Row, +determined to carry out his original plan, and armed with that inward +satisfaction to which he had alluded. He dressed himself in his best, +and endeavoured as far as was in his power to look as though he were +equal to the Messrs. Round. Old Crook he had seen once, and him he +already despised. He had endeavoured to obtain a private interview +with Mrs. Bolster before she could be seen by Matthew Round; but in +this he had not succeeded. Mrs. Bolster was a prudent woman, and, +acting doubtless under advice, had written to him, saying that she +had been summoned to the office of Messrs. Round and Crook, and would +there declare all that she knew about the matter. At the same time +she returned to him a money order which he had sent to her.</p> + +<p>Punctually at twelve he was in Bedford Row, and there he saw a +respectable-looking female sitting at the fire in the inner part of +the outer office. This was Bridget Bolster, but he would by no means +have recognised her. Bridget had risen in the world and was now head +chambermaid at a large hotel in the west of England. In that capacity +she had laid aside whatever diffidence may have afflicted her earlier +years, and was now able to speak out her mind before any judge or +jury in the land. Indeed she had never been much afflicted by such +diffidence, and had spoken out her evidence on that former occasion, +now twenty years since, very plainly. But as she now explained to the +head clerk, she had at that time been only a poor ignorant slip of a +girl, with no more than eight pounds a year wages.</p> + +<p>Dockwrath bowed to the head clerk, and passed on to Mat Round's +private room. "Mr. Matthew is inside, I suppose," said he, and hardly +waiting for permission he knocked at the door, and then entered. +There he saw Mr. Matthew Round, sitting in his comfortable arm-chair, +and opposite to him sat Mr. Mason of Groby Park.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason got up and shook hands with the Hamworth attorney, but +Round junior made his greeting without rising, and merely motioned +his visitor to a chair.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason and the young ladies are quite well, I hope?" said Mr. +Dockwrath, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Quite well, I thank you," said the county magistrate.</p> + +<p>"This matter has progressed since I last had the pleasure of seeing +them. You begin to think I was right; eh, Mr. Mason?"</p> + +<p>"Don't let us triumph till we are out of the wood," said Mr. Round. +"It is a deal easier to spend money in such an affair as this than it +is to make money by it. However we shall hear to-day more about it."</p> + +<p>"I do not know about making money," said Mr. Mason, very solemnly. +"But that I have been robbed by that woman out of my just rights in +that estate for the last twenty years,—that I may say I do know."</p> + +<p>"Quite true, Mr. Mason; quite true," said Mr. Dockwrath with +considerable energy.</p> + +<p>"And whether I make money or whether I lose money I intend to proceed +in this matter. It is dreadful to think that in this free and +enlightened country so abject an offender should have been able to +hold her head up so long without punishment and without disgrace."</p> + +<p>"That is exactly what I feel," said Dockwrath. "The very stones and +trees of Hamworth cry out against her."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said Mr. Round, "we have first to see whether there has +been any injustice or not. If you will allow me I will explain to you +what I now propose to do."</p> + +<p>"Proceed, sir," said Mr. Mason, who was by no means satisfied with +his young attorney.</p> + +<p>"Bridget Bolster is now in the next room, and as far as I can +understand the case at present, she would be the witness on whom your +case, Mr. Mason, would most depend. The man Kenneby I have not yet +seen; but from what I understand he is less likely to prove a willing +witness than Mrs. Bolster."</p> + +<p>"I cannot go along with you there, Mr. Round," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, sir, but I am only stating my opinion. If I should find +that this woman is unable to say that she did not sign two separate +documents on that day—that is, to say so with a positive and point +blank assurance, I shall recommend you, as my client, to drop the +prosecution."</p> + +<p>"I will never drop it," said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"You will do as you please," continued Round; "I can only say what +under such circumstances will be the advice given to you by this +firm. I have talked the matter over very carefully with my father and +with our other partner, and we shall not think well of going on with +it unless I shall now find that your view is strongly substantiated +by this woman."</p> + +<p>Then outspoke Mr. Dockwrath, "Under these circumstances, Mr. Mason, +if I were you, I should withdraw from the house at once. I certainly +would not have my case blown upon."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason, sir, will do as he pleases about that. As long as the +business with which he honours us is straight-forward, we will do it +for him, as for an old client, although it is not exactly in our own +line. But we can only do it in accordance with our own judgment. I +will proceed to explain what I now propose to do. The woman Bolster +is in the next room, and I, with the assistance of my head clerk, +will take down the headings of what evidence she can give."</p> + +<p>"In our presence, sir," said Mr. Dockwrath; "or if Mr. Mason should +decline, at any rate in mine."</p> + +<p>"By no means, Mr. Dockwrath," said Round.</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Dockwrath should hear her story," said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"He certainly will not do so in this house or in conjunction with me. +In what capacity should he be present, Mr. Mason?"</p> + +<p>"As one of Mr. Mason's legal advisers," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"If you are to be one of them, Messrs. Round and Crook cannot be the +others. I think I explained that to you before. It now remains for +Mr. Mason to say whether he wishes to employ our firm in this matter +or not. And I can tell him fairly," Mr. Round added this after a +slight pause, "that we shall be rather pleased than otherwise if he +will put the case into other hands."</p> + +<p>"Of course I wish you to conduct it," said Mr. Mason, who, with all +his bitterness against the present holders of Orley Farm, was afraid +of throwing himself into the hands of Dockwrath. He was not an +ignorant man, and he knew that the firm of Round and Crook bore a +high reputation before the world.</p> + +<p>"Then," said Round, "I must do my business in accordance with my own +views of what is right. I have reason to believe that no one has yet +tampered with this woman," and as he spoke he looked hard at +Dockwrath, "though probably attempts may have been made."</p> + +<p>"I don't know who should tamper with her," said Dockwrath, "unless it +be Lady Mason—whom I must say you seem very anxious to protect."</p> + +<p>"Another word like that, sir, and I shall be compelled to ask you to +leave the house. I believe that this woman has been tampered with by +no one. I will now learn from her what is her remembrance of the +circumstances as they occurred twenty years since, and I will then +read to you her deposition. I shall be sorry, gentlemen, to keep you +here, perhaps for an hour or so, but you will find the morning papers +on the table." And then Mr. Round, gathering up certain documents, +passed into the outer office, and Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath were +left alone.</p> + +<p>"He is determined to get that woman off," said Mr. Dockwrath, in a +whisper.</p> + +<p>"I believe him to be an honest man," said Mr. Mason, with some +sternness.</p> + +<p>"Honesty, sir! It is hard to say what is honesty and what is +dishonesty. Would you believe it, Mr. Mason, only last night I had a +thousand pounds offered me to hold my tongue about this affair?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason at the moment did not believe this, but he merely looked +hard into his companion's face, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"By the heavens above us what I tell you is true! a thousand pounds, +Mr. Mason! Only think how they are going it to get this thing +stifled. And where should the offer come from but from those who know +I have the power?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that the offer came from this firm?"</p> + +<p>"Hush-sh, Mr. Mason. The very walls hear and talk in such a place as +this. I'm not to know who made the offer, and I don't know. But a man +can give a very good guess sometimes. The party who was speaking to +me is up to the whole transaction, and knows exactly what is going on +here—here, in this house. He let it all out, using pretty nigh the +same words as Round used just now. He was full about the doubt that +Round and Crook felt—that they'd never pull it through. I'll tell +you what it is, Mr. Mason, they don't mean to pull it through."</p> + +<p>"What answer did you make to the man?"</p> + +<p>"What answer! why I just put my thumb this way over my shoulder. No, +Mr. Mason, if I can't carry on without bribery and corruption, I +won't carry on at all. He'd called at the wrong house with that +dodge, and so he soon found."</p> + +<p>"And you think he was an emissary from Messrs. Round and Crook?"</p> + +<p>"Hush-sh-sh. For heaven's sake, Mr. Mason, do be a little lower. You +can put two and two together as well as I can, Mr. Mason. I find they +make four. I don't know whether your calculation will be the same. My +belief is, that these people are determined to save that woman. Don't +you see it in that young fellow's eye—that his heart is all on the +other side. Now he's got hold of that woman Bolster, and he'll teach +her to give such evidence as will upset us. But I'll be even with him +yet, Mr. Mason. If you'll only trust me, we'll both be even with him +yet."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason at the present moment said nothing further, and when +Dockwrath pressed him to continue the conversation in whispers, he +distinctly said that he would rather say no more upon the subject +just then. He would wait for Mr. Round's return. "Am I at liberty," +he asked, "to mention that offer of the thousand pounds?"</p> + +<p>"What—to Mat Round?" said Dockwrath. "Certainly not, Mr. Mason. It +wouldn't be our game at all."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir." And then Mr. Mason took up a newspaper, and no +further words were spoken till the door opened and Mr. Round +re-entered the room.</p> + +<p>This he did with slow, deliberate step, and stopping on the +hearth-rug, he stood leaning with his back against the mantelpiece. +It was clear from his face to see that he had much to tell, and clear +also that he was not pleased at the turn which affairs were taking.</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen, I have examined the woman," he said, "and here is +her deposition."</p> + +<p>"And what does she say?" asked Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Come, out with it, sir," said Dockwrath. "Did she, or did she not +sign two documents on that day?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason," said Round, turning to that gentleman, and altogether +ignoring Dockwrath and his question; "I have to tell you that her +statement, as far as it goes, fully corroborates your view of the +case. As far as it goes, mind you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it does; does it?" said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"And she is the only important witness?" said Mr. Mason with great +exultation.</p> + +<p>"I have never said that; what I did say was this—that your case must +break down unless her evidence supported it. It does support +it—strongly; but you will want more than that."</p> + +<p>"And now if you please, Mr. Round, what is it that she has deposed?" +asked Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"She remembers it all then?" said Mason.</p> + +<p>"She is a remarkably clear-headed woman, and apparently does remember +a great deal. But her remembrance chiefly and most strongly goes to +this—that she witnessed only one deed."</p> + +<p>"She can prove that, can she?" said Mason, and the tone of his voice +was loudly triumphant.</p> + +<p>"She declares that she never signed but one deed in the whole of her +life—either on that day or on any other; and over and beyond this +she says now—now that I have explained to her what that other deed +might have been—that old Mr. Usbech told her that it was about a +partnership."</p> + +<p>"He did, did he?" said Dockwrath, rising from his chair and clapping +his hands. "Very well. I don't think we shall want more than that, +Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>There was a tone of triumph in the man's voice, and a look of +gratified malice in his countenance which disgusted Mr. Round and +irritated him almost beyond his power of endurance. It was quite true +that he would much have preferred to find that the woman's evidence +was in favour of Lady Mason. He would have been glad to learn that +she actually had witnessed the two deeds on the same day. His tone +would have been triumphant, and his face gratified, had he returned +to the room with such tidings. His feelings were all on that side, +though his duty lay on the other. He had almost expected that it +would be so. As it was, he was prepared to go on with his duty, but +he was not prepared to endure the insolence of Mr. Dockwrath. There +was a look of joy also about Mr. Mason which added to his annoyance. +It might be just and necessary to prosecute that unfortunate woman at +Orley Farm, but he could not gloat over such work.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dockwrath," he said, "I will not put up with such conduct here. +If you wish to rejoice about this, you must go elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"And what are we to do now?" said Mr. Mason. "I presume there need be +no further delay."</p> + +<p>"I must consult with my partner. If you can make it convenient to +call this day <span class="nowrap">week—"</span></p> + +<p>"But she will escape."</p> + +<p>"No, she will not escape. I shall not be ready to say anything before +that. If you are not in town, then I can write to you." And so the +meeting was broken up, and Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath left the +lawyer's office together.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath left the office in Bedford Row together, +and thus it was almost a necessity that they should walk together for +some distance through the streets. Mr. Mason was going to his hotel +in Soho Square, and Mr. Dockwrath turned with him through the passage +leading into Red Lion Square, linking his own arm in that of his +companion. The Yorkshire county magistrate did not quite like this, +but what was he to do?</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see anything like that, sir?" said Mr. Dockwrath; "for +by heavens I never did."</p> + +<p>"Like what?" said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Like that fellow there;—that Round. It is my opinion that he +deserves to have his name struck from the rolls. Is it not clear that +he is doing all in his power to bring that wretched woman off? And +I'll tell you what, Mr. Mason, if you let him play his own game in +that way, he will bring her off."</p> + +<p>"But he expressly admitted that this woman Bolster's evidence is +conclusive."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he was so driven into a corner that he could not help admitting +that. The woman had been too many for him, and he found that he +couldn't cushion her. But do you mind my words, Mr. Mason. He intends +that you shall be beaten. It's as plain as the nose on your face. You +can read it in the very look of him, and in every tone of his voice. +At any rate I can. I'll tell you what it is"—and then he squeezed +very close to Mr. Mason—"he and old Furnival understand each other +in this matter like two brothers. Of course Round will have his bill +against you. Win or lose, he'll get his costs out of your pocket. But +he can make a deuced pretty thing out of the other side as well. Let +me tell you, Mr. Mason, that when notes for a thousand pounds are +flying here and there, it isn't every lawyer that will see them pass +by him without opening his hand."</p> + +<p>"I do not think that Mr. Round would take a bribe," said Mr. Mason +very stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't he? Just as a hound would a pat of butter. It's your own +look-out, you know, Mr. Mason. I haven't got an estate of twelve +hundred a year depending on it. But remember this;—if she escapes +now, Orley Farm is gone for ever."</p> + +<p>All this was extremely disagreeable to Mr. Mason. In the first place +he did not at all like the tone of equality which the Hamworth +attorney had adopted; he did not like to acknowledge that his affairs +were in any degree dependent on a man of whom he thought so badly as +he did of Mr. Dockwrath; he did not like to be told that Round and +Crook were rogues,—Round and Crook whom he had known all his life; +but least of all did he like the feeling of suspicion with which, in +spite of himself, this man had imbued him, or the fear that his +victim might at last escape him. Excellent, therefore, as had been +the evidence with which Bridget Bolster had declared herself ready to +give in his favour, Mr. Mason was not a contented man when he sat +down to his solitary beefsteak in Soho Square.</p> + + +<p><a name="c33" id="c33"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4> +<h3>THE ANGEL OF LIGHT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>In speaking of the character and antecedents of Felix Graham I have +said that he was moulding a wife for himself. The idea of a wife thus +moulded to fit a man's own grooves, and educated to suit matrimonial +purposes according to the exact views of the future husband was by no +means original with him. Other men have moulded their wives, but I do +not know that as a rule the practice has been found to answer. It is +open, in the first place, to this objection,—that the moulder does +not generally conceive such idea very early in life, and the idea +when conceived must necessarily be carried out on a young subject. +Such a plan is the result of much deliberate thought, and has +generally arisen from long observation, on the part of the thinker, +of the unhappiness arising from marriages in which there has been no +moulding. Such a frame of mind comes upon a bachelor, perhaps about +his thirty-fifth year, and then he goes to work with a girl of +fourteen. The operation takes some ten years, at the end of which the +moulded bride regards her lord as an old man. On the whole I think +that the ordinary plan is the better, and even the safer. Dance with +a girl three times, and if you like the light of her eye and the tone +of voice with which she, breathless, answers your little questions +about horseflesh and music—about affairs masculine and +feminine,—then take the leap in the dark. There is danger, no doubt; +but the moulded wife is, I think, more dangerous.</p> + +<p>With Felix Graham the matter was somewhat different, seeing that he +was not yet thirty, and that the lady destined to be the mistress of +his family had already passed through three or four years of her +noviciate. He had begun to be prudent early in life; or had become +prudent rather by force of sentiment than by force of thought. Mary +Snow was the name of his bride-elect; and it is probable that, had +not circumstances thrown Mary Snow in his way, he would not have gone +out of his way to seek a subject for his experiment. Mary Snow was +the daughter of an engraver,—not of an artist who receives four or +five thousand pounds for engraving the chef-d'œuvre of a modern +painter,—but of a man who executed flourishes on ornamental cards +for tradespeople, and assisted in the illustration of circus +playbills. With this man Graham had become acquainted through certain +transactions of his with the press, and had found him to be a +widower, drunken, dissolute, and generally drowned in poverty. One +child the man had, and that child was Mary Snow.</p> + +<p>How it came to pass that the young barrister first took upon himself +the charge of maintaining and educating this poor child need not now +be told. His motives had been thoroughly good, and in the matter he +had endeavoured to act the part of a kind Samaritan. He had found her +pretty, half starved, dirty, ignorant, and modest; and so finding her +had made himself responsible for feeding, cleaning, and teaching +her,—and ultimately for marrying her. One would have said that in +undertaking a task of such undoubted charity as that comprised in the +three first charges, he would have encountered no difficulty from the +drunken, dissolute, impoverished engraver. But the man from the +beginning was cunning; and before Graham had succeeded in obtaining +the custody of the child, the father had obtained a written +undertaking from him that he would marry her at a certain age if her +conduct up to that age had been becoming. As to this latter +stipulation no doubt had arisen; and indeed Graham had so acted by +her that had she fallen away the fault would have been all her own. +There wanted now but one year to the coming of that day on which he +was bound to make himself a happy man, and hitherto he himself had +never doubted as to the accomplishment of his undertaking.</p> + +<p>He had told his friends,—those with whom he was really intimate, +Augustus Staveley and one or two others,—what was to be his +matrimonial lot in life; and they had ridiculed him for his quixotic +chivalry. Staveley especially had been strong in his conviction that +no such marriage would ever take place, and had already gone so far +as to plan another match for his friend.</p> + +<p>"You know you do not love her," he had said, since Felix had been +staying on this occasion at Noningsby.</p> + +<p>"I know no such thing," Felix had answered, almost in anger. "On the +contrary I know that I do love her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, as I love my niece Marian, or old Aunt Bessy, who always +supplied me with sugar-candy when I was a boy."</p> + +<p>"It is I that have supplied Mary with her sugar-candy, and the love +thus engendered is the stronger."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless you are not in love with her, and never will be, and if +you marry her you will commit a great sin."</p> + +<p>"How moral you have grown!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not. I'm not a bit moral. But I know very well when a man is +in love with a girl, and I know very well that you're not in love +with Mary Snow. And I tell you what, my friend, if you do marry her +you are done for life. There will absolutely be an end of you."</p> + +<p>"You mean to say that your royal highness will drop me."</p> + +<p>"I mean to say nothing about myself. My dropping you or not dropping +you won't alter your lot in life. I know very well what a poor man +wants to give him a start; and a fellow like you who has such quaint +ideas on so many things requires all the assistance he can get. You +should look out for money and connection."</p> + +<p>"Sophia Furnival, for instance."</p> + +<p>"No; she would not suit you. I perceive that now."</p> + +<p>"So I supposed. Well, my dear fellow, we shall not come to +loggerheads about that. She is a very fine girl, and you are welcome +to the hatful of money—if you can get it."</p> + +<p>"That's nonsense. I'm not thinking of Sophia Furnival any more than +you are. But if I did it would be a proper marriage. +<span class="nowrap">Now—"</span> And then +he went on with some further very sage remarks about Miss Snow.</p> + +<p>All this was said as Felix Graham was lying with his broken bones in +the comfortable room at Noningsby; and to tell the truth, when it was +so said his heart was not quite at ease about Mary Snow. Up to this +time, having long since made up his mind that Mary should be his +wife, he had never allowed his thoughts to be diverted from that +purpose. Nor did he so allow them now,—as long as he could prevent +them from wandering.</p> + +<p>But, lying there at Noningsby, thinking of those sweet Christmas +evenings, how was it possible that they should not wander? His friend +had told him that he did not love Mary Snow; and then, when alone, he +asked himself whether in truth he did love her. He had pledged +himself to marry her, and he must carry out that pledge. But +nevertheless did he love her? And if not her, did he love any other?</p> + +<p>Mary Snow knew very well what was to be her destiny, and indeed had +known it for the last two years. She was now nineteen years old,—and +Madeline Staveley was also nineteen; she was nineteen, and at twenty +she was to become a wife, as by agreement between Felix Graham and +Mr. Snow, the drunken engraver. They knew their destiny,—the future +husband and the future wife,—and each relied with perfect faith on +the good faith and affection of the other.</p> + +<p>Graham, while he was thus being lectured by Staveley, had under his +pillow a letter from Mary. He wrote to her regularly—on every +Sunday, and on every Tuesday she answered him. Nothing could be more +becoming than the way she obeyed all his behests on such matters; and +it really did seem that in his case the moulded wife would turn out +to have been well moulded. When Staveley left him he again read +Mary's letter. Her letters were always of the same length, filling +completely the four sides of a sheet of note paper. They were +excellently well written; and as no one word in them was ever altered +or erased, it was manifest enough to Felix that the original +composition was made on a rough draft. As he again read through the +four sides of the little sheet of paper, he could not refrain from +conjecturing what sort of a letter Madeline Staveley might write. +Mary Snow's letter ran as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">3 Bloomfield Terrace, Peckham,<br /> +Tuesday, 10 January, 18—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dearest +Felix</span>,</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="noindent">—she had so +called him for the last twelvemonth by common consent +between Graham and the very discreet lady under whose charge she at +present lived. Previously to that she had written to him as, My dear +Mr. Graham.</p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dearest Felix</span>,</p> + +<p>I am very glad to hear that your arm and your two ribs are +getting so much better. I received your letter yesterday, +and was glad to hear that you are so comfortable in the +house of the very kind people with whom you are staying. +If I knew them I would send them my respectful +remembrances, but as I do not know them I suppose it would +not be proper. But I remember them in my +<span class="nowrap">prayers.—</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class="noindent">This last assurance +was inserted under the express instruction of +Mrs. Thomas, who however did not read Mary's letters, but +occasionally, on some subjects, gave her hints as to what she ought +to say. Nor was there hypocrisy in this, for under the instruction of +her excellent mentor she had prayed for the kind +<span class="nowrap">people.—</span></p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent">I hope you will +be well enough to come and pay me a visit +before long, but pray do not come before you are well +enough to do so without giving yourself any pain. I am +glad to hear that you do not mean to go hunting any more, +for it seems to me to be a dangerous amusement.</p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class="noindent">And then the first paragraph came to +an end.</p> + + +<blockquote> +<p>My papa called here yesterday. He said he was very badly +off indeed, and so he looked. I did not know what to say +at first, but he asked me so much to give him some money, +that I did give him at last all that I had. It was +nineteen shillings and sixpence. Mrs. Thomas was angry, +and told me I had no right to give away your money, and +that I should not have given more than half a crown. I +hope you will not be angry with me. I do not want any more +at present. But indeed he was very bad, especially about +his shoes.</p> + +<p>I do not know that I have any more to say except that I +put back thirty lines of Télémaque into French every +morning before breakfast. It never comes near right, but +nevertheless M. Grigaud says it is well done. He says that +if it came quite right I should compose French as well as +M. Fénelon, which of course I cannot expect.</p> + +<p>I will now say good-bye, and I am yours most +affectionately,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Mary +Snow</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>There was nothing in this letter to give any offence to Felix Graham, +and so he acknowledged to himself. He made himself so acknowledge, +because on the first reading of it he had felt that he was half angry +with the writer. It was clear that there was nothing in the letter +which would justify censure;—nothing which did not, almost, demand +praise. He would have been angry with her had she limited her filial +donation to the half-crown which Mrs. Thomas had thought appropriate. +He was obliged to her for that attention to her French which he had +specially enjoined. Nothing could be more proper than her allusion to +the Staveleys;—and altogether the letter was just what it ought to +be. Nevertheless it made him unhappy and irritated him. Was it well +that he should marry a girl whose father was "indeed very bad, but +especially about his shoes?" Staveley had told him that connection +would be necessary for him, and what sort of a connection would this +be? And was there one word in the whole letter that showed a spark of +true love? Did not the footfall of Madeline Staveley's step as she +passed along the passage go nearer to his heart than all the +outspoken assurance of Mary Snow's letter?</p> + +<p>Nevertheless he had undertaken to do this thing, and he would do +it,—let the footfall of Madeline Staveley's step be ever so sweet in +his ear. And then, lying back in his bed, he began to think whether +it would have been as well that he should have broken his neck +instead of his ribs in getting out of Monkton Grange covert.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thomas was a lady who kept a school consisting of three little +girls and Mary Snow. She had in fact not been altogether successful +in the line of life she had chosen for herself, and had hardly been +able to keep her modest door-plate on her door, till Graham, in +search of some home for his bride, then in the first noviciate of her +moulding, had come across her. Her means were now far from plentiful; +but as an average number of three children still clung to her, and as +Mary Snow's seventy pounds per annum—to include clothes—were +punctually paid, the small house at Peckham was maintained. Under +these circumstances Mary Snow was somebody in the eyes of Mrs. +Thomas, and Felix Graham was a very great person indeed.</p> + +<p>Graham had received his letter on a Wednesday, and on the following +Monday Mary, as usual, received one from him. These letters always +came to her in the evening, as she was sitting over her tea with Mrs. +Thomas, the three children having been duly put to bed. Graham's +letters were very short, as a man with a broken right arm and two +broken ribs is not fluent with his pen. But still a word or two did +come to her. "Dearest Mary, I am doing better and better, and I hope +I shall see you in about a fortnight. Quite right in giving the +money. Stick to the French. Your own F. G." But as he signed himself +her own, his mind misgave him that he was lying.</p> + +<p>"It is very good of him to write to you while he is in such a state," +said Mrs. Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is," said Mary—"very good indeed." And then she went on +with the history of "Rasselas" in his happy valley, by which study +Mrs. Thomas intended to initiate her into that course of +novel-reading which has become necessary for a British lady. But Mrs. +Thomas had a mind to improve the present occasion. It was her duty to +inculcate in her pupil love and gratitude towards the beneficent man +who was doing so much for her. Gratitude for favours past and love +for favours to come; and now, while that scrap of a letter was lying +on the table, the occasion for doing so was opportune.</p> + +<p>"Mary, I do hope you love Mr. Graham with all your heart and all your +strength." She would have thought it wicked to say more; but so far +she thought she might go, considering the sacred tie which was to +exist between her pupil and the gentleman in question.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed I do;" and then Mary's eyes fell wishfully on the +cover of the book which lay in her lap while her finger kept the +place. Rasselas is not very exciting, but it was more so than Mrs. +Thomas.</p> + +<p>"You would be very wicked if you did not. And I hope you think +sometimes of the very responsible duties which a wife owes to her +husband. And this will be more especially so with you than with any +other woman—almost that I ever heard of."</p> + +<p>There was something in this that was almost depressing to poor Mary's +spirit, but nevertheless she endeavoured to bear up against it and do +her duty. "I shall do all I can to please him, Mrs. Thomas;—and +indeed I do try about the French. And he says I was right to give +papa that money."</p> + +<p>"But there will be many more things than that when you've stood at +the altar with him and become his wife;—bone of his bone, Mary." And +she spoke these last words in a very solemn tone, shaking her head, +and the solemn tone almost ossified poor Mary's heart as she heard +it.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know there will. But I shall endeavour to find out what he +likes."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he is so particular about his eating and drinking as +some other gentlemen; though no doubt he will like his things nice."</p> + +<p>"I know he is fond of strong tea, and I sha'n't forget that."</p> + +<p>"And about dress. He is not very rich you know, Mary; but it will +make him unhappy if you are not always tidy. And his own shirts—I +fancy he has no one to look after them now, for I so often see the +buttons off. You should never let one of them go into his drawers +without feeling them all to see that they're on tight."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember that," said Mary, and then she made another little +furtive attempt to open the book.</p> + +<p>"And about your own stockings, Mary. Nothing is so useful to a young +woman in your position as a habit of darning neat. I'm sometimes +almost afraid that you don't like darning."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes I do." That was a fib; but what could she do, poor girl, when +so pressed?</p> + +<p>"Because I thought you would look at Jane Robinson's and Julia +Wright's which are lying there in the basket. I did Rebecca's myself +before tea, till my old eyes were sore."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know," said Mary, with some slight offence in her tone. +"Why didn't you ask me to do them downright if you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"It's only for the practice it will give you."</p> + +<p>"Practice! I'm always practising something." But nevertheless she +laid down the book, and dragged the basket of work up on to the +table. "Why, Mrs. Thomas, it's impossible to mend these; they're all +darn."</p> + +<p>"Give them to me," said Mrs. Thomas. And then there was silence +between them for a quarter of an hour during which Mary's thoughts +wandered away to the events of her future life. Would his stockings +be so troublesome as these?</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Thomas was at heart an honest woman, and as a rule was +honest also in practice. Her conscience told her that Mr. Graham +might probably not approve of this sort of practice for conjugal +duties, and in spite of her failing eyes she resolved to do her duty. +"Never mind them, Mary," said she. "I remember now that you were +doing your own before dinner."</p> + +<p>"Of course I was," said Mary sulkily. "And as for practice, I don't +suppose he'll want me to do more of that than anything else."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, put them by." And Miss Snow did put them by, resuming +Rasselas as she did so. Who darned the stockings of Rasselas and felt +that the buttons were tight on his shirts? What a happy valley must +it have been if a bride expectant were free from all such cares as +these!</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Mary, it will be some time in the spring of next year." +Mrs. Thomas was not reading, and therefore a little conversation from +time to time was to her a solace.</p> + +<p>"What will be, Mrs. Thomas?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the marriage."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it will. He told father it should be early in 18—, and I +shall be past twenty then."</p> + +<p>"I wonder where you'll go to live."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He has never said anything about that."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not; but I'm sure it will be a long way away from +Peckham." In answer to this Mary said nothing, but could not help +wishing that it might be so. Peckham to her had not been a place +bright with happiness, although she had become in so marked a way a +child of good fortune. And then, moreover, she had a deep care on her +mind with which the streets and houses and pathways of Peckham were +closely connected. It would be very expedient that she should go far, +far away from Peckham when she had become, in actual fact, the very +wife of Felix Graham.</p> + +<p>"Miss Mary," whispered the red-armed maid of all work, creeping up to +Mary's bedroom door, when they had all retired for the night, and +whispering through the chink. "Miss Mary. I've somethink to say." And +Mary opened the door. "I've got a letter from him;" and the maid of +all work absolutely produced a little note enclosed in a green +envelope.</p> + +<p>"Sarah, I told you not," said Mary, looking very stern and hesitating +with her finger whether or no she would take the letter.</p> + +<p>"But he did so beg and pray. Besides, miss, as he says hisself he +must have his answer. Any gen'leman, he says, 'as a right to a +answer. And if you'd a seed him yourself I'm sure you'd have took it. +He did look so nice with a blue and gold hankercher round his neck. +He was a-going to the the-a-tre he said."</p> + +<p>"And who was going with him, Sarah?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no one. Only his mamma and sister, and them sort. He's all +right—he is." And then Mary Snow did take the letter.</p> + +<p>"And I'll come for the answer when you're settling the room after +breakfast to-morrow?" said the girl.</p> + +<p>"No; I don't know. I sha'n't send any answer at all. But, Sarah, for +heaven's sake, do not say a word about it!"</p> + +<p>"Who, I? Laws love you, miss. I wouldn't;—not for worlds of gold." +And then Mary was left alone to read a second letter from a second +suitor.</p> + +<p>"Angel of light!" it began, "but cold as your own fair name." Poor +Mary thought it was very nice and very sweet, and though she was so +much afraid of it that she almost wished it away, yet she read it a +score of times. Stolen pleasures always are sweet. She had not cared +to read those two lines from her own betrothed lord above once, or at +the most twice; and yet they had been written by a good man,—a man +superlatively good to her, and written too with considerable pain.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill33" id="ill33"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill33.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill33-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="The Angel of Light." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">The Angel of Light.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill33.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>She sat down all trembling to think of what she was doing; and then, +as she thought, she read the letter again. "Angel of light! but cold +as your own fair name." Alas, alas! it was very sweet to her!</p> + + +<p><a name="c34" id="c34"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4> +<h3>MR. FURNIVAL LOOKS FOR ASSISTANCE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"And you think that nothing can be done down there?" said Mr. +Furnival to his clerk, immediately after the return of Mr. Crabwitz +from Hamworth to London.</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all, sir," said Mr. Crabwitz, with laconic significance.</p> + +<p>"Well; I dare say not. If the matter could have been arranged at a +reasonable cost, without annoyance to my friend Lady Mason, I should +have been glad; but, on the whole, it will perhaps be better that the +law should take its course. She will suffer a good deal, but she will +be the safer for it afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival, I went so far as to offer a thousand pounds!"</p> + +<p>"A thousand pounds! Then they'll think we're afraid of them."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit more than they did before. Though I offered the money, he +doesn't know the least that the offer came from our side. But I'll +tell you what it is, Mr. <span class="nowrap">Furnival—.</span> I +suppose I may speak my mind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! But remember this, Crabwitz; Lady Mason is no more in +danger of losing the property than you are. It is a most vexatious +thing, but there can be no doubt as to what the result will be."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Furnival,—I don't know."</p> + +<p>"In such matters, I am tolerably well able to form an opinion."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly!"</p> + +<p>"And that's my opinion. Now I shall be very glad to hear yours."</p> + +<p>"My opinion is this, Mr. Furnival, that Sir Joseph never made that +codicil."</p> + +<p>"And what makes you think so?"</p> + +<p>"The whole course of the evidence. It's quite clear there was another +deed executed that day, and witnessed by Bolster and Kenneby. Had +there been two documents for them to witness, they would have +remembered it so soon after the occurrence."</p> + +<p>"Well, Crabwitz, I differ from you,—differ from you in toto. But +keep your opinion to yourself, that's all. I've no doubt you did the +best for us you could down at Hamworth, and I'm much obliged to you. +You'll find we've got our hands quite full again,—almost too full." +Then he turned round to his table, and to the papers upon it; +whereupon, Crabwitz took the hint, and left the room.</p> + +<p>But when he had gone, Mr. Furnival again raised his eyes from the +papers on the table, and leaning back in his chair, gave himself up +to further consideration of the Orley Farm case. Crabwitz he knew was +a sharp, clever man, and now the opinion formed by Crabwitz, after +having seen this Hamworth attorney, tallied with his own opinion. +Yes; it was his own opinion. He had never said as much, even to +himself, with those inward words which a man uses when he assures +himself of the result of his own thoughts; but he was aware that it +was his own opinion. In his heart of hearts, he did believe that that +codicil had been fraudulently manufactured by his friend and client, +Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>Under these circumstances, what should he do? He had the handle of +his pen between his teeth, as was his habit when he was thinking, and +tried to bring himself to some permanent resolution.</p> + +<p>How beautiful had she looked while she stood in Sir Peregrine's +library, leaning on the old man's arm—how beautiful and how +innocent! That was the form which his thoughts chiefly took. And then +she had given him her hand, and he still felt the soft silken touch +of her cool fingers. He would not be a man if he could desert a woman +in such a strait. And such a woman! If even guilty, had she not +expiated her guilt by deep sorrow? And then he thought of Mr. Mason +of Groby Park; and he thought of Sir Peregrine's strong conviction, +and of Judge Staveley's belief; and he thought also of the strong +hold which public opinion and twenty years of possession would still +give to the cause he favoured. He would still bring her through! Yes; +in spite of her guilt, if she were guilty; on the strength of her +innocency, if she were innocent; but on account of her beauty, and +soft hand, and deep liquid eye. So at least he would have owned, +could he have been honest enough to tell himself the whole truth.</p> + +<p>But he must prepare himself for the battle in earnest. It was not as +though he had been briefed in this case, and had merely to perform +the duty for which he had been hired. He was to undertake the whole +legal management of the affair. He must settle what attorney should +have the matter in hand, and instruct that attorney how to reinstruct +him, and how to reinstruct those other barristers who must +necessarily be employed on the defence, in a case of such magnitude. +He did not yet know under what form the attack would be made; but he +was nearly certain that it would be done in the shape of a criminal +charge. He hoped that it might take the direct form of an accusation +of forgery. The stronger and more venomous the charge made, the +stronger also would be public opinion in favour of the accused, and +the greater the chance of an acquittal. But if she were to be found +guilty on any charge, it would matter little on what. Any such +verdict of guilty would be utter ruin and obliteration of her +existence.</p> + +<p>He must consult with some one, and at last he made up his mind to go +to his very old friend, Mr. Chaffanbrass. Mr. Chaffanbrass was safe, +and he might speak out his mind to him without fear of damaging the +cause. Not that he could bring himself to speak out his real mind, +even to Mr. Chaffanbrass. He would so speak that Mr. Chaffanbrass +should clearly understand him; but still, not even to his ears, would +he say that he really believed Lady Mason to have been guilty. How +would it be possible that he should feign before a jury his assured, +nay, his indignant conviction of his client's innocence, if he had +ever whispered to any one his conviction of her guilt?</p> + +<p>On that same afternoon he sent to make an appointment with Mr. +Chaffanbrass, and immediately after breakfast, on the following +morning, had himself taken to that gentleman's chambers. The chambers +of this great guardian of the innocence—or rather not-guiltiness of +the public—were not in any so-named inn, but consisted of two +gloomy, dark, panelled rooms in Ely Place. The course of our story, +however, will not cause us to make many visits to Ely Place, and any +closer description of them may be spared. I have said that Mr. +Chaffanbrass and Mr. Furnival were very old friends. So they were. +They had known each other for more than thirty years, and each knew +the whole history of the other's rise and progress in the profession; +but any results of their friendship at present were but scanty. They +might meet each other in the streets, perhaps, once in the year; and +occasionally—but very seldom—might be brought together on subjects +connected with their profession; as was the case when they travelled +together down to Birmingham. As to meeting in each other's houses, or +coming together for the sake of the friendship which existed,—the +idea of doing so never entered the head of either of them.</p> + +<p>All the world knows Mr. Chaffanbrass—either by sight or by +reputation. Those who have been happy enough to see the face and gait +of the man as, in years now gone, he used to lord it at the Old +Bailey, may not have thought much of the privilege which was theirs. +But to those who have only read of him, and know of his deeds simply +by their triumphs, he was a man very famous and worthy to be seen. +"Look; that's Chaffanbrass. It was he who cross-examined +<span class="nowrap">——</span> at the Old +Bailey, and sent him howling out of London, banished for ever into +the wilderness." "Where, where? Is that Chaffanbrass? What a dirty +little man!"</p> + +<p>To this dirty little man in Ely Place, Mr. Furnival now went in his +difficulty. Mr. Furnival might feel himself sufficient to secure the +acquittal of an innocent person, or even of a guilty person, under +ordinary circumstances; but if any man in England could secure the +acquittal of a guilty person under extraordinary circumstances, it +would be Mr. Chaffanbrass. This had been his special line of work for +the last thirty years.</p> + +<p>Mr. Chaffanbrass was a dirty little man; and when seen without his +gown and wig, might at a first glance be thought insignificant. But +he knew well how to hold his own in the world, and could maintain his +opinion, unshaken, against all the judges in the land. "Well, +Furnival, and what can I do for you?" he said, as soon as the member +for the Essex Marshes was seated opposite to him. "It isn't often +that the light of your countenance shines so far east as this. +Somebody must be in trouble, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Somebody is in trouble," said Mr. Furnival; and then he began to +tell his story. Mr. Chaffanbrass listened almost in silence +throughout. Now and then he asked a question by a word or two, +expressing no opinion whatever as he did so; but he was satisfied to +leave the talking altogether in the hands of his visitor till the +whole tale was told. "Ah," he said then, "a clever woman!"</p> + +<p>"An uncommonly sweet creature too," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Mr. Chaffanbrass; and then there was a pause.</p> + +<p>"And what can I do for you?" said Mr. Chaffanbrass.</p> + +<p>"In the first place I should be very glad to have your advice; and +<span class="nowrap">then—.</span> Of course I must +lead in defending her,—unless it were well +that I should put the case altogether in your hands."</p> + +<p>"Oh no! don't think of that. I couldn't give the time to it. My heart +is not in it, as yours is. Where will it be?"</p> + +<p>"At Alston, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"At the Spring assizes. That will be—. Let me see; about the 10th of +March."</p> + +<p>"I should think we might get it postponed till the summer. Round is +not at all hot about it."</p> + +<p>"Should we gain anything by that? If a prisoner be innocent why +torment him by delay. He is tolerably sure of escape. If he be +guilty, extension of time only brings out the facts the clearer. As +far as my experience goes, the sooner a man is tried the +better,—always."</p> + +<p>"And you would consent to hold a brief?"</p> + +<p>"Under you? Well; yes. I don't mind it at Alston. Anything to oblige +an old friend. I never was proud, you know."</p> + +<p>"And what do you think about it, Chaffanbrass?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's the question."</p> + +<p>"She must be pulled through. Twenty years of possession! Think of +that."</p> + +<p>"That's what Mason, the man down in Yorkshire, is thinking of. +There's no doubt of course about that partnership deed?"</p> + +<p>"I fear not. Round would not go on with it if that were not all +true."</p> + +<p>"It depends on those two witnesses, Furnival. I remember the case of +old, though it was twenty years ago, and I had nothing to do with it. +I remember thinking that Lady Mason was a very clever woman, and that +Round and Crook were rather slow."</p> + +<p>"He's a brute; is that fellow, Mason of Groby Park."</p> + +<p>"A brute; is he? We'll get him into the box and make him say as much +for himself. She's uncommonly pretty, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"She is a pretty woman."</p> + +<p>"And interesting? It will all tell, you know. A widow with one son, +isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she has done her duty admirably since her husband's death. +You will find too that she has the sympathies of all the best people +in her neighbourhood. She is staying now at the house of Sir +Peregrine Orme, who would do anything for her."</p> + +<p>"Anything, would he?"</p> + +<p>"And the Staveleys know her. The judge is convinced of her +innocence."</p> + +<p>"Is he? He'll probably have the Home Circuit in the summer. His +conviction expressed from the bench would be more useful to her. You +can make Staveley believe everything in a drawing-room or over a +glass of wine; but I'll be hanged if I can ever get him to believe +anything when he's on the bench."</p> + +<p>"But, Chaffanbrass, the countenance of such people will be of great +use to her down there. Everybody will know that she's been staying +with Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"I've no doubt she's a clever woman."</p> + +<p>"But this new trouble has half killed her."</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder at that either. These sort of troubles do vex people. +A pretty woman like that should have everything smooth; shouldn't +she? Well, we'll do the best we can. You'll see that I'm properly +instructed. By-the-by, who is her attorney? In such a case as that +you couldn't have a better man than old Solomon Aram. But Solomon +Aram is too far east from you, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't he a Jew?"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I don't know. He's an attorney, and that's enough for +me."</p> + +<p>And then the matter was again discussed between them, and it was +agreed that a third counsel would be wanting. "Felix Graham is very +much interested in the case," said Mr. Furnival, "and is as firmly +convinced of her innocence as—as I am." And he managed to look his +ally in the face and to keep his countenance firmly.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mr. Chaffanbrass. "But what if he should happen to change +his opinion about his own client?"</p> + +<p>"We could prevent that, I think."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure. And then he'd throw her over as sure as your name's +Furnival."</p> + +<p>"I hardly think he'd do that."</p> + +<p>"I believe he'd do anything." And Mr. Chaffanbrass was quite moved to +enthusiasm. "I've heard that man talk more nonsense about the +profession in one hour, than I ever heard before since I first put a +cotton gown on my back. He does not understand the nature of the duty +which a professional man owes to his client."</p> + +<p>"But he'd work well if he had a case at heart himself. I don't like +him, but he is clever."</p> + +<p>"You can do as you like, of course. I shall be out of my ground down +at Alston, and of course I don't care who takes the fag of the work. +But I tell you this fairly;—if he does go into the case and then +turns against us or drops it,—I shall turn against him and drop into +him."</p> + +<p>"Heaven help him in such a case as that!" And then these two great +luminaries of the law shook hands and parted.</p> + +<p>One thing was quite clear to Mr. Furnival as he had himself carried +in a cab from Ely Place to his own chambers in Lincoln's Inn. Mr. +Chaffanbrass was fully convinced of Lady Mason's guilt. He had not +actually said so, but he had not even troubled himself to go through +the little ceremony of expressing a belief in her innocence. Mr. +Furnival was well aware that Mr. Chaffanbrass would not on this +account be less likely to come out strongly with such assurances +before a jury, or to be less severe in his cross-examination of a +witness whose evidence went to prove that guilt; but nevertheless the +conviction was disheartening. Mr. Chaffanbrass would know, almost by +instinct, whether an accused person was or was not guilty; and he had +already perceived, by instinct, that Lady Mason was guilty. Mr. +Furnival sighed as he stepped out of his cab, and again wished that +he could wash his hands of the whole affair. He wished it very +much;—but he knew that his wish could not be gratified.</p> + +<p>"Solomon Aram!" he said to himself, as he again sat down in his +arm-chair. "It will sound badly to those people down at Alston. At +the Old Bailey they don't mind that kind of thing." And then he made +up his mind that Solomon Aram would not do. It would be a disgrace to +him to take a case out of Solomon Aram's hands. Mr. Chaffanbrass did +not understand all this. Mr. Chaffanbrass had been dealing with +Solomon Arams all his life. Mr. Chaffanbrass could not see the effect +which such an alliance would have on the character of a barrister +holding Mr. Furnival's position. Solomon Aram was a good man in his +way no doubt;—perhaps the best man going. In taking every dodge to +prevent a conviction no man could be better than Solomon Aram. All +this Mr. Furnival felt;—but he felt also that he could not afford +it. "It would be tantamount to a confession of guilt to take such a +man as that down into the country," he said to himself, trying to +excuse himself.</p> + +<p>And then he also made up his mind that he would sound Felix Graham. +If Felix Graham could be induced to take up the case thoroughly +believing in the innocence of his client, no man would be more useful +as a junior. Felix Graham went the Home Circuit on which Alston was +one of the assize towns.</p> + + +<p><a name="c35" id="c35"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4> +<h3>LOVE WAS STILL THE LORD OF ALL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Why should I not? Such had been the question which Sir Peregrine Orme +had asked himself over and over again, in these latter days, since +Lady Mason had been staying at his house; and the purport of the +question was this:—Why should he not make Lady Mason his wife?</p> + +<p>I and my readers can probably see very many reasons why he should not +do so; but then we are not in love with Lady Mason. Her charms and +her sorrows,—her soft, sad smile and her more lovely tears have not +operated upon us. We are not chivalrous old gentlemen, past seventy +years of age, but still alive, keenly alive, to a strong feeling of +romance. That visit will perhaps be remembered which Mr. Furnival +made at The Cleeve, and the subsequent interview between Lady Mason +and the baronet. On that day he merely asked himself the question, +and took no further step. On the subsequent day and the day after, it +was the same. He still asked himself the question, sitting alone in +his library; but he did not ask it as yet of any one else. When he +met Lady Mason in these days his manner to her was full of the +deference due to a lady and of the affection due to a dear friend; +but that was all. Mrs. Orme, seeing this, and cordially concurring in +this love for her guest, followed the lead which her father-in-law +gave, and threw herself into Lady Mason's arms. They two were fast +and bosom friends.</p> + +<p>And what did Lady Mason think of all this? In truth there was much in +it that was sweet to her, but there was something also that increased +that idea of danger which now seemed to envelop her whole existence. +Why had Sir Peregrine so treated her in the library, behaving towards +her with such tokens of close affection? He had put his arm round her +waist and kissed her lips and pressed her to his old bosom. Why had +this been so? He had assured her that he would be to her as a father, +but her woman's instinct had told her that the pressure of his hand +had been warmer than that which a father accords to his adopted +daughter. No idea of anger had come upon her for a moment; but she +had thought about it much, and had thought about it almost in dismay. +What if the old man did mean more than a father's love? It seemed to +her as though it must be a dream that he should do so; but what if he +did? How should she answer him? In such circumstances what should she +do or say? Could she afford to buy his friendship,—even his warmest +love at the cost of the enmity of so many others? Would not Mrs. Orme +hate her, Mrs. Orme, whom she truly, dearly, eagerly loved? Mrs. +Orme's affection was, of all personal gratifications, the sweetest to +her. And the young heir,—would not he hate her? Nay, would he not +interfere and with some strong hand prevent so mean a deed on the +part of his grandfather? And if so, would she not thus have lost them +altogether? And then she thought of that other friend whose aid would +be so indispensable to her in this dreadful time of tribulation. How +would Mr. Furnival receive such tidings, if it should come to pass +that such tidings were to be told?</p> + +<p>Lady Mason was rich with female charms, and she used them partly with +the innocence of the dove, but partly also with the wisdom of the +serpent. But in such use as she did make of these only weapons which +Providence had given to her, I do not think that she can be regarded +as very culpable. During those long years of her young widowhood in +which nothing had been wanting to her, her conduct had been free from +any hint of reproach. She had been content to find all her joy in her +duties and in her love as a mother. Now a great necessity for +assistance had come upon her. It was necessary that she should bind +men to her cause, men powerful in the world and able to fight her +battle with strong arms. She did so bind them with the only chains at +her command,—but she had no thought, nay, no suspicion of evil in so +doing. It was very painful to her when she found that she had caused +unhappiness to Mrs. Furnival; and it caused her pain now, also, when +she thought of Sir Peregrine's new love. She did wish to bind these +men to her by a strong attachment; but she would have stayed this +feeling at a certain point had it been possible for her so to manage +it.</p> + +<p>In the mean time Sir Peregrine still asked himself that question. He +had declared to himself when first the idea had come to him, that +none of those whom he loved should be injured. He would even ask his +daughter-in-law's consent, condescending to plead his cause before +her, making her understand his motives, and asking her acquiescence +as a favour. He would be so careful of his grandson that this second +marriage—if such event did come to pass—should not put a pound out +of his pocket, or at any rate should not hamper the succession of the +estate with a pound of debt. And then he made excuses to himself as +to the step which he proposed to take, thinking how he would meet his +friends, and how he would carry himself before his old servants.</p> + +<p>Old men have made more silly marriages than this which he then +desired. Gentlemen such as Sir Peregrine in age and station have +married their housemaids,—have married young girls of eighteen years +of age,—have done so and faced their friends and servants +afterwards. The bride that he proposed to himself was a lady, an old +friend, a woman over forty, and one whom by such a marriage he could +greatly assist in her deep sorrow. Why should he not do it?</p> + +<p>After much of such thoughts as these, extended over nearly a week, he +resolved to speak his mind to Mrs. Orme. If it were to be done it +should be done at once. The incredulous unromantic readers of this +age would hardly believe me if I said that his main object was to +render assistance to Lady Mason in her difficulty; but so he assured +himself, and so he believed. This assistance to be of true service +must be given at once;—and having so resolved he sent for Mrs. Orme +into the library.</p> + +<p>"Edith, my darling," he said, taking her hand and pressing it between +both his own as was often the wont with him in his more affectionate +moods. "I want to speak to you—on business that concerns me nearly; +may perhaps concern us all nearly. Can you give me half an hour?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I can—what is it, sir? I am a bad hand at business; but +you know that."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, dear; there; sit there, and I will sit here. As to this +business, no one can counsel me as well as you."</p> + +<p>"Dearest father, I should be a poor councillor in anything."</p> + +<p>"Not in this, Edith. It is about Lady Mason that I would speak to +you. We both love her dearly; do we not?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"And are glad to have her here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, so glad. When this trial is only over, it will be so sweet, to +have her for a neighbour. We really know her now. And it will be so +pleasant to see much of her."</p> + +<p>There was nothing discouraging in this, but still the words in some +slight degree grated against Sir Peregrine's feelings. At the present +moment he did not wish to think of Lady Mason as living at Orley +Farm, and would have preferred that his daughter-in-law should have +spoken of her as being there, at The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>"Yes; we know her now," he said. "And believe me in this, Edith; no +knowledge obtained of a friend in happiness is at all equal to that +which is obtained in sorrow. Had Lady Mason been prosperous, had she +never become subject to the malice and avarice of wicked people, I +should never have loved her as I do love her."</p> + +<p>"Nor should I, father."</p> + +<p>"She is a cruelly ill-used woman, and a woman worthy of the kindest +usage. I am an old man now, but it has never before been my lot to be +so anxious for a fellow-creature as I am for her. It is dreadful to +think that innocence in this country should be subject to such +attacks."</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is; but you do not think that there is any danger?"</p> + +<p>This was all very well, and showed that Mrs. Orme's mind was well +disposed towards the woman whom he loved. But he had known that +before, and he began to feel that he was not approaching the object +which he had in view. "Edith," at last he said abruptly, "I love her +with my whole heart. I would fain make her—my wife." Sir Peregrine +Orme had never in his course through life failed in anything for lack +of courage; and when the idea came home to him that he was trembling +at the task which he had imposed on himself, he dashed at it at once. +It is so that forlorn hopes are led, and become not forlorn; it is so +that breaches are taken.</p> + +<p>"Your wife!" said Mrs. Orme. She would not have breathed a syllable +to pain him if she could have helped it, but the suddenness of the +announcement overcame her for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Edith, my wife. Let us discuss the matter before you condemn +it. But in the first place I would have you to understand this—I +will not marry her if you say that it will make you unhappy. I have +not spoken to her as yet, and she knows nothing of this project." Sir +Peregrine, it may be presumed, had not himself thought much of that +kiss which he had given her. "You," he continued to say, "have given +up your whole life to me. You are my angel. If this thing will make +you unhappy it shall not be done."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had not so considered it, but with such a woman as Mrs. +Orme this was, of course, the surest way to overcome opposition. On +her own behalf, thinking only of herself, she would stand in the way +of nothing that could add to Sir Peregrine's happiness. But +nevertheless the idea was strong in her mind that such a marriage +would be imprudent. Sir Peregrine at present stood high before the +world. Would he stand so high if he did this thing? His gray hair and +old manly bearing were honoured and revered by all who knew him. +Would this still be so if he made himself the husband of Lady Mason? +She loved so dearly, she valued so highly the honour that was paid to +him! She was so proud of her own boy in that he was the grandson of +so perfect a gentleman! Would not this be a sad ending to such a +career? Such were the thoughts which ran through her mind at the +moment.</p> + +<p>"Make me unhappy!" she said getting up and going over to him. "It is +your happiness of which I would think. Will it make you more happy?"</p> + +<p>"It will enable me to befriend her more effectually."</p> + +<p>"But, dearest father, you must be the first consideration to us,—to +me and Peregrine. Will it make you more happy?"</p> + +<p>"I think it will," he answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"Then I, for one, will say nothing against it," she answered. She was +very weak, it will be said. Yes, she was weak. Many of the sweetest, +kindest, best of women are weak in this way. It is not every woman +that can bring herself to say hard, useful, wise words in opposition +to the follies of those they love best. A woman to be useful and wise +no doubt should have such power. For myself I am not so sure that I +like useful and wise women. "Then I for one will say nothing against +it," said Mrs. Orme, deficient in utility, wanting in wisdom, but +full of the sweetest affection.</p> + +<p>"You are sure that you will not love her the less yourself?" said Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am sure of that. If it were to be so, I should endeavour to +love her the more."</p> + +<p>"Dearest Edith. I have only one other person to tell."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Peregrine?" she said in her softest voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Of course he must be told. But as it would not be well to ask +his consent,—as I have asked +<span class="nowrap">yours—"</span> and then as he said this she +kissed his brow.</p> + +<p>"But you will let him know it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; that is if she accepts my proposition. Then he shall know it +immediately. And, Edith, my dear, you may be sure of this; nothing +that I do shall be allowed in any way to injure his prospects or to +hamper him as regards money when I am gone. If this marriage takes +place I cannot do very much for her in the way of money; she will +understand that. Something I can of course."</p> + +<p>And then Mrs. Orme stood over the fire, looking at the hot coals, and +thinking what Lady Mason's answer would be. She esteemed Lady Mason +very highly, regarding her as a woman sensible and conscientious at +all points, and she felt by no means certain that the offer would be +accepted. What if Lady Mason should say that such an arrangement +would not be possible for her. Mrs. Orme felt that under such +circumstances she at any rate would not withdraw her love from Lady +Mason.</p> + +<p>"And now I may as well speak to her at once," said Sir Peregrine. "Is +she in the drawing-room?"</p> + +<p>"I left her there."</p> + +<p>"Will you ask her to come to me—with my love?"</p> + +<p>"I had better not say anything I suppose?"</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine, in his heart of hearts wished that his daughter-in-law +could say it all, but he would not give her such a commission. "No; +perhaps not." And then Mrs. Orme was going to leave him.</p> + +<p>"One word more, Edith. You and I, darling, have known each other so +long and loved each other so well, that I should be unhappy if I were +to fall in your estimation."</p> + +<p>"There is no fear of that, father."</p> + +<p>"Will you believe me when I assure you that my great object in doing +this is to befriend a good and worthy woman whom I regard as ill +used—beyond all ill usage of which I have hitherto known anything?"</p> + +<p>She then assured him that she did so believe, and she assured him +truly; after that she left him and went away to send in Lady Mason +for her interview. In the mean time Sir Peregrine got up and stood +with his back to the fire. He would have been glad that the coming +scene could be over, and yet I should be wronging him to say that he +was afraid of it. There would be a pleasure to him in telling her +that he loved her so dearly and trusted her with such absolute +confidence. There would be a sort of pleasure to him in speaking even +of her sorrow, and in repeating his assurance that he would fight the +battle for her with all the means at his command. And perhaps also +there would be some pleasure in the downcast look of her eye, as she +accepted the tender of his love. Something of that pleasure he had +known already. And then he remembered the other alternative. It was +quite upon the cards that she should decline his offer. He did not by +any means shut his eyes to that. Did she do so, his friendship should +by no means be withdrawn from her. He would be very careful from the +onset that she should understand so much as that. And then he heard +the light footsteps in the hall; the gentle hand was raised to the +door, and Lady Mason was standing in the room.</p> + +<p>"Dear Lady Mason," he said, meeting her half way across the room, "it +is very kind of you to come to me when I send for you in this way."</p> + +<p>"It would be my duty to come to you, if it were half across the +kingdom;—and my pleasure also."</p> + +<p>"Would it?" said he, looking into her face with all the wishfulness +of a young lover. From that moment she knew what was coming. Strange +as was the destiny which was to be offered to her at this period of +her life, yet she foresaw clearly that the offer was to be made. What +she did not foresee, what she could not foretell, was the answer +which she might make to it!</p> + +<p>"It would certainly be my sweetest pleasure to send for you if you +were away from us,—to send for you or to follow you," said he.</p> + +<p>"I do not know how to make return for all your kind regard to me;—to +you and to dear Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"Call her Edith, will you not? You did so call her once."</p> + +<p>"I call her so often when we are alone together, now; and yet I feel +that I have no right."</p> + +<p>"You have every right. You shall have every right if you will accept +it. Lady Mason, I am an old man,—some would say a very old man. But +I am not too old to love you. Can, you accept the love of an old man +like me?"</p> + +<p>Lady Mason was, as we are aware, not taken in the least by surprise; +but it was quite necessary that she should seem to be so taken. This +is a little artifice which is excusable in almost any lady at such a +period. "Sir Peregrine," she said, "you do not mean more than the +love of a most valued friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, much more. I mean the love of a husband for his wife; of a wife +for her husband."</p> + +<p>"Sir Peregrine! Ah me! You have not thought of this, my friend. You +have not remembered the position in which I am placed. Dearest, +dearest friend; dearest of all friends,"—and then she knelt before +him, leaning on his knees, as he sat in his accustomed large +arm-chair. "It may not be so. Think of the sorrow that would come to +you and yours, if my enemies should prevail."</p> + +<p>"By —— they shall not prevail!" swore Sir Peregrine, roundly; and +as he swore the oath he put his two hands upon her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"No; we will hope not. I should die here at your feet if I thought +that they could prevail. But I should die twenty deaths were I to +drag you with me into disgrace. There will be disgrace even in +standing at that bar."</p> + +<p>"Who will dare to say so, when I shall stand there with you?" said +Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>There was a feeling expressed in his face as he spoke these words, +which made it glorious, and bright, and beautiful. She, with her eyes +laden with tears, could not see it; but nevertheless, she knew that +it was bright and beautiful. And his voice was full of hot eager +assurance,—that assurance which had the power to convey itself from +one breast to another. Would it not be so? If he stood there with her +as her husband and lord, would it not be the case that no one would +dare to impute disgrace to her?</p> + +<p>And yet she did not wish it. Even yet, thinking of all this as she +did think of it, according to the truth of the argument which he +himself put before her, she would still have preferred that it should +not be so. If she only knew with what words to tell him so;—to tell +him so and yet give no offence! For herself, she would have married +him willingly. Why should she not? Nay, she could and would have +loved him, and been to him a wife, such as he could have found in no +other woman. But she said within her heart that she owed him kindness +and gratitude—that she owed them all kindness, and that it would be +bad to repay them in such a way as this. She also thought of Sir +Peregrine's gray hairs, and of his proud standing in the county, and +the respect in which men held him. Would it be well in her to drag +him down in his last days from the noble pedestal on which he stood, +and repay him thus for all that he was doing for her?</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, stroking her soft hair with his hands—the hair +which appeared in front of the quiet prim cap she wore, "shall it be +so? Will you give me the right to stand there with you and defend you +against the tongues of wicked men? We each have our own weakness, and +we also have each our own strength. There I may boast that I should +be strong."</p> + +<p>She thought again for a moment or two without rising from her knees, +and also without speaking. Would such strength suffice? And if it did +suffice, would it then be well with him? As for herself, she did love +him. If she had not loved him before, she loved him now. Who had ever +been to her so noble, so loving, so gracious as he? In her ears no +young lover's vows had ever sounded. In her heart such love as all +the world knows had never been known. Her former husband had been +kind to her in his way, and she had done her duty by him carefully, +painfully, and with full acceptance of her position. But there had +been nothing there that was bright, and grand, and noble. She would +have served Sir Peregrine on her knees in the smallest offices, and +delighted in such services. It was not for lack of love that she must +refuse him. But still she did not answer him, and still he stroked +her hair.</p> + +<p>"It would be better that you had never seen me," at last she said; +and she spoke with truth the thought of her mind. That she must do +his bidding, whatever that bidding might be, she had in a certain way +acknowledged to herself. If he would have it so, so it must be. How +could she refuse him anything, or be disobedient in aught to one to +whom she owed so much? But still it would be wiser otherwise, wiser +for all—unless it were for herself alone. "It would be better that +you had never seen me," she said.</p> + +<p>"Nay, not so, dearest. That it would not be better for me,—for me +and Edith I am quite sure. And I would fain hope that for +<span class="nowrap">you—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir Peregrine! you know what I mean. You know how I value your +kindness. What should I be if it were withdrawn from me?"</p> + +<p>"It shall not be withdrawn. Do not let that feeling actuate you. +Answer me out of your heart, and however your heart may answer, +remember this, that my friendship and support shall be the same. If +you will take me for your husband, as your husband will I stand by +you. If you cannot,—then I will stand by you as your father."</p> + +<p>What could she say? A word or two she did speak as to Mrs. Orme and +her feelings, delaying her absolute reply—and as to Peregrine Orme +and his prospects; but on both, as on all other points, the baronet +was armed with his answer. He had spoken to his darling Edith, and +she had gladly given her consent. To her it would be everything to +have so sweet a friend. And then as to his heir, every care should be +taken that no injury should be done to him; and speaking of this, Sir +Peregrine began to say a few words, plaintively, about money. But +then Lady Mason stopped him. "No," she said, "she could not, and +would not, listen to that. She would have no settlement. No +consideration as to money should be made to weigh with her. It was in +no degree for <span class="nowrap">that—"</span> And then she +wept there till she would have +fallen had he not supported her.</p> + +<p>What more is there to be told. Of course she accepted him. As far as +I can see into such affairs no alternative was allowed to her. She +also was not a wise woman at all points. She was one whose feelings +were sometimes too many for her, and whose feelings on this occasion +had been much too many for her. Had she been able to throw aside from +her his offer, she would have done so; but she had felt that she was +not able. "If you wish it, Sir Peregrine," she said at last.</p> + +<p>"And can you love an old man?" he had asked. Old men sometimes will +ask questions such as these. She did not answer him, but stood by his +side; and, then again he kissed her, and was happy.</p> + +<p>He resolved from that moment that Lady Mason should no longer be +regarded as the widow of a city knight, but as the wife elect of a +country baronet. Whatever ridicule he might incur in this matter, he +would incur at once. Men and women had dared to speak of her cruelly, +and they should now learn that any such future speech would be spoken +of one who was exclusively his property. Let any who chose to be +speakers under such circumstances look to it. He had devoted himself +to her that he might be her knight and bear her scathless through the +fury of this battle. With God's help he would put on his armour at +once for that fight. Let them who would now injure her look to it. As +soon as might be she should bear his name; but all the world should +know at once what was her right to claim his protection. He had never +been a coward, and he would not now be guilty of the cowardice of +hiding his intentions. If there were those who chose to smile at the +old man's fancy, let them smile. There would be many, he knew, who +would not understand an old man's honour and an old man's chivalry.</p> + +<p>"My own one," he then said, pressing her again to his side, "will you +tell Edith, or shall I? She expects it." But Lady Mason begged that +he would tell the tale. It was necessary, she said, that she should +be alone for a while. And then, escaping, she went to her own +chamber.</p> + +<p>"Ask Mrs. Orme if she will kindly step to me," said Sir Peregrine, +having rang his bell for the servant.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason escaped across the hall to the stairs, and succeeded in +reaching her room without being seen by any one. Then she sat herself +down, and began to look her future world in the face. Two questions +she had to ask. Would it be well for her that this marriage should +take place? and would it be well for him? In an off-hand way she had +already answered both questions; but she had done so by feeling +rather than by thought.</p> + +<p>No doubt she would gain much in the coming struggle by such a +position as Sir Peregrine would give her. It did seem to her that Mr. +Dockwrath and Joseph Mason would hardly dare to bring such a charge +as that threatened against the wife of Sir Peregrine Orme. And then, +too, what evidence as to character would be so substantial as the +evidence of such a marriage? But how would Mr. Furnival bear it, and +if he were offended would it be possible that the fight should be +fought without him? No; that would be impossible. The lawyer's +knowledge, experience, and skill were as necessary to her as the +baronet's position and character. But why should Mr. Furnival be +offended by such a marriage? "She did not know," she said to herself. +"She could not see that there should be cause of offence." But yet +some inner whisper of her conscience told her that there would be +offence. Must Mr. Furnival be told; and must he be told at once? And +then what would Lucius say and think, and how should she answer the +strong words which her son would use to her? He would use strong +words she knew, and would greatly dislike this second marriage of his +mother. What grown-up son is ever pleased to hear that his mother is +about to marry? The Cleeve must be her home now—that is, if she did +this deed. The Cleeve must be her home, and she must be separated in +all things from Orley Farm. As she thought of this her mind went +back, and back to those long gone days in which she had been racked +with anxiety that Orley Farm should be the inheritance of the little +baby that was lying at her feet. She remembered how she had pleaded +to the father, pointing out the rights of her son—declaring, and +with justice, that for herself she had asked for nothing; but that +for him—instead of asking might she not demand? Was not that other +son provided for, and those grown-up women with their rich husbands? +"Is he not your child as well as they?" she had pleaded. "Is he not +your own, and as well worthy of your love?" She had succeeded in +getting the inheritance for the baby at her feet;—but had his having +it made her happy, or him? Then her child had been all in all to her; +but now she felt that that child was half estranged from her about +this very property, and would become wholly estranged by the method +she was taking to secure it! "I have toiled for him," she said to +herself, "rising up early, and going to bed late; but the thief +cometh in the night and despoileth it." Who can guess the bitterness +of her thoughts as she said this?</p> + +<p>But her last thoughts, as she sat there thinking, were of him—Sir +Peregrine. Would it be well for him that he should do this? And in +thus considering she did not turn her mind chiefly to the usual view +in which such a marriage would be regarded. Men might call Sir +Peregrine an old fool and laugh at him; but for that she would, with +God's help, make him amends. In those matters, he could judge for +himself; and should he judge it right thus to link his life to hers, +she would be true and leal to him in all things.</p> + +<p>But then, about this trial. If there came disgrace and ruin, and an +utter overthrow? <span class="nowrap">If—?</span> Would it +not be well at any rate that no +marriage should take place till that had been decided? She could not +find it in her heart to bring down his old gray hairs with utter +sorrow to the grave.</p> + + +<p><a name="c36" id="c36"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4> +<h3>WHAT THE YOUNG MEN THOUGHT ABOUT IT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lucius Mason at this time was living at home at Orley Farm, not by +any means in a happy frame of mind. It will be perhaps remembered +that he had at one time had an interview with Mr. Furnival in that +lawyer's chambers, which was by no means consoling to him, seeing +that Mr. Furnival had pooh-poohed him and his pretensions in a very +off-hand way; and he had since paid a very memorable visit to Mr. +Dockwrath in which he had hardly been more successful. Nevertheless, +he had gone to another lawyer. He had felt it impossible to remain +tranquil, pursuing the ordinary avocations of his life, while such +dreadful charges were being made openly against his mother, and being +so made without any authorised contradiction. He knew that she was +innocent. No doubt on that matter ever perplexed his mind for a +moment. But why was she such a coward that she would not allow him to +protect her innocence in the only way which the law permitted? He +could hardly believe that he had no power of doing so even without +her sanction; and therefore he went to another lawyer.</p> + +<p>The other lawyer did him no good. It was not practicable that he, the +son, should bring an action for defamatory character on the part of +the mother, without that mother's sanction. Moreover, as this new +lawyer saw in a moment, any such interference on the part of Lucius, +and any interposition of fresh and new legal proceedings would +cripple and impede the advisers to whom Lady Mason had herself +confided her own case. The new lawyer could do nothing, and thus +Lucius, again repulsed, betook himself to Orley Farm in no happy +frame of mind.</p> + +<p>For some day or two after this he did not see his mother. He would +not go down to The Cleeve, though they sent up and asked him; and she +was almost afraid to go across to the house and visit him. "He will +be in church on Sunday," she had said to Mrs. Orme. But he was not in +church on Sunday, and then on Sunday afternoon she did go to him. +This, it will be understood, was before Sir Peregrine had made his +offer, and therefore as to that, there was as yet no embarrassment on +the widow's mind.</p> + +<p>"I cannot help feeling, mother," he said, after she had sat there +with him for a short time, "that for the present there is a division +between you and me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius!"</p> + +<p>"It is no use our denying it to ourselves. It is so. You are in +trouble, and you will not listen to my advice. You leave my house and +take to the roof of a new and an untried friend."</p> + +<p>"No, Lucius; not that."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I say a new friend. Twelve months ago, though you might call +there, you never did more than that—and even that but seldom. They +are new friends; and yet, now that you are in trouble, you choose to +live with them."</p> + +<p>"Dear Lucius, is there any reason why I should not visit at The +Cleeve?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; if you ask me—yes;" and now he spoke very sternly. "There is a +cloud upon you, and you should know nothing of visitings and of new +friendships till that cloud has been dispersed. While these things +are being said of you, you should set at no other table than this, +and drink of no man's cup but mine. I know your innocence," and as he +went on to speak, he stood up before her and looked down fully into +her face, "but others do not. I know how unworthy are these +falsehoods with which wicked men strive to crush you, but others +believe that they are true accusations. They cannot be disregarded, +and now it seems,—now that you have allowed them to gather to a +head, they will result in a trial, during which you will have to +stand at the bar charged with a dreadful crime."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius!" and she hid her eyes in her hands. "I could not have +helped it. How could I have helped it?"</p> + +<p>"Well; it must be so now. And till that trial is over, here should be +your place. Here, at my right hand; I am he who am bound to stand by +you. It is I whose duty it is to see that your name be made white +again, though I spend all I have, ay, and my life in doing it. I am +the one man on whose arm you have a right to lean. And yet, in such +days as these, you leave my house and go to that of a stranger."</p> + +<p>"He is not a stranger, Lucius."</p> + +<p>"He cannot be to you as a son should be. However, it is for you to +judge. I have no control in this matter, but I think it right that +you should know what are my thoughts."</p> + +<p>And then she had crept back again to The Cleeve. Let Lucius say what +he might, let this additional sorrow be ever so bitter, she could not +obey her son's behests. If she did so in one thing she must do so in +all. She had chosen her advisers with her best discretion, and by +that choice she must abide—even though it separated her from her +son. She could not abandon Sir Peregrine Orme and Mr. Furnival. So +she crept back and told all this to Mrs. Orme. Her heart would have +utterly sunk within her could she not have spoken openly to some one +of this sorrow.</p> + +<p>"But he loves you," Mrs. Orme had said, comforting her. "It is not +that he does not love you."</p> + +<p>"But he is so stern to me." And then Mrs. Orme had kissed her, and +promised that none should be stern to her, there, in that house. On +the morning after this Sir Peregrine had made his offer, and then she +felt that the division between her and her boy would be wider than +ever. And all this had come of that inheritance which she had +demanded so eagerly for her child.</p> + +<p>And now Lucius was sitting alone in his room at Orley Farm, having, +for the present, given up all idea of attempting anything himself by +means of the law. He had made his way into Mr. Dockwrath's office, +and had there insulted the attorney in the presence of witnesses. His +hope now was that the attorney might bring an action against him. If +that were done he would thus have the means of bringing out all the +facts of the case before a jury and a judge. It was fixed in his mind +that if he could once drag that reptile before a public tribunal, and +with loud voice declare the wrong that was being done, all might be +well. The public would understand and would speak out, and the +reptile would be scorned and trodden under foot. Poor Lucius! It is +not always so easy to catch public sympathy, and it will occur +sometimes that the wrong reptile is crushed by the great public heel.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill36" id="ill36"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill36.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill36-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lucius Mason in his Study." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lucius Mason in his Study.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill36.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>He had his books before him as he sat there—his Latham and his +Pritchard, and he had the jawbone of one savage and the skull of +another. His Liverpool bills for unadulterated guano were lying on +the table, and a philosophical German treatise on agriculture which +he had resolved to study. It became a man, he said to himself, to do +a man's work in spite of any sorrow. But, nevertheless, as he sat +there, his studies were but of little service to him. How many men +have declared to themselves the same thing, but have failed when the +trial came! Who, can command the temper and the mind? At ten I will +strike the lyre and begin my poem. But at ten the poetic spirit is +under a dark cloud—because the water for the tea had not boiled when +it was brought in at nine. And so the lyre remains unstricken.</p> + +<p>And Lucius found that he could not strike his lyre. For days he had +sat there and no good note had been produced. And then he had walked +over his land, having a farming man at his heels, thinking that he +could turn his mind to the actual and practical working of his land. +But little good had come of that either. It was January, and the land +was sloppy and half frozen. There was no useful work to be done on +it. And then what farmer Greenwood had once said of him was true +enough, "The young maister's spry and active surely, but he can't let +unself down to stable doong and the loik o' that." He had some grand +idea of farming—a conviction that the agricultural world in general +was very backward, and that he would set it right. Even now in his +sorrow, as he walked through his splashy, frozen fields, he was +tormented by a desire to do something, he knew not what, that might +be great.</p> + +<p>He had no such success on the present occasion and returned +disconsolate to the house. This happened about noon on the day after +that on which Sir Peregrine had declared himself. He returned as I +have said to the house, and there at the kitchen door he met a little +girl whom he knew well as belonging to The Cleeve. She was a +favourite of Mrs. Orme's, was educated and clothed by her, and ran on +her messages. Now she had brought a letter up to Lucius from his +mother. Curtsying low she so told him, and he at once went into the +sitting-room where he found it lying on his table. His hand was +nervous as he opened it; but if he could have seen how tremulous had +been the hand that wrote it! The letter was as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest Lucius</span>,</p> + +<p>I know you will be very much surprised at what I am going +to tell you, but I hope you will not judge me harshly. If +I know myself at all I would take no step of any kind for +my own advantage which could possibly injure you. At the +present moment we unfortunately do not agree about a +subject which is troubling us both, and I cannot therefore +consult you as I should otherwise have done. I trust that +by God's mercy these troubles may come to an end, and that +there may be no further differences between you and me.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine Orme has made me an offer of marriage and I +have accepted <span class="nowrap">it—</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Lucius Mason when he had read so far threw down the letter upon the +table, and rising suddenly from his chair walked rapidly up and down +the room. "Marry him!" he said out loud, "marry him!" The idea that +their fathers and mothers should marry and enjoy themselves is always +a thing horrible to be thought of in the minds of the rising +generation. Lucius Mason now began to feel against his mother the +same sort of anger which Joseph Mason had felt when his father had +married again. "Marry him!" And then he walked rapidly about the +room, as though some great injury had been threatened to him.</p> + +<p>And so it had, in his estimation. Was it not her position in life to +be his mother? Had she not had her young days? But it did not occur +to him to think what those young days had been. And this then was the +meaning of her receding from his advice and from his roof! She had +been preparing for herself in the world new hopes, a new home, and a +new ambition. And she had so prevailed upon the old man that he was +about to do this foolish thing! Then again he walked up and down the +room, injuring his mother much in his thoughts. He gave her credit +for none of those circumstances which had truly actuated her in +accepting the hand which Sir Peregrine had offered her. In that +matter touching the Orley Farm estate he could acquit his mother +instantly,—with acclamation. But in this other matter he had +pronounced her guilty before she had been allowed to plead. Then he +took up the letter and finished it.</p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent">Sir Peregrine Orme +has made me an offer of marriage and I +have accepted it. It is very difficult to explain in a +letter all the causes that have induced me to do so. The +first perhaps is this, that I feel myself so bound to him +by love and gratitude, that I think it my duty to fall in +with all his wishes. He has pointed out to me that as my +husband he can do more for me than would be possible for +him without that name. I have explained to him that I +would rather perish than that he should sacrifice himself; +but he is pleased to say that it is no sacrifice. At any +rate he so wishes it, and as Mrs. Orme has cordially +assented, I feel myself bound to fall in with his views. +It was only yesterday that Sir Peregrine made his offer. I +mention this that you may know that I have lost no time in +telling you.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind4">Dearest Lucius, +believe that I shall be as ever</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">Your most affectionate mother,</span></p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Mary Mason</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">The little girl will wait for an +answer if she finds that you are at the farm.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>"No," he said to himself, still walking about the room. "She can +never be to me the same mother that she was. I would have sacrificed +everything for her. She should have been the mistress of my house, at +any rate till she herself should have wished it otherwise. But now—" +And then his mind turned away suddenly to Sophia Furnival.</p> + +<p>I cannot myself but think that had that affair of the trial been set +at rest Lady Mason would have been prudent to look for another home. +The fact that Orley Farm was his house and not hers occurred almost +too frequently to Lucius Mason; and I am not certain that it would +have been altogether comfortable as a permanent residence for his +mother after he should have brought home to it some such bride as her +he now proposed to himself.</p> + +<p>It was necessary that he should write an answer to his mother, which +he did at once.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Orley Farm, — January.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Mother</span>,</p> + +<p>It is I fear too late for me to offer any counsel on the +subject of your letter. I cannot say that I think you are +right.</p> + +<p class="ind10">Your affectionate son,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Lucius +Mason</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>And then, having finished this, he again walked the room. "It is all +up between me and her," he said, "as real friends in life and heart. +She shall still have the respect of a son, and I shall have the +regard of a mother. But how can I trim my course to suit the welfare +of the wife of Sir Peregrine Orme?" And then he lashed himself into +anger at the idea that his mother should have looked for other solace +than that which he could have given.</p> + +<p>Nothing more from The Cleeve reached him that day; but early on the +following morning he had a visitor whom he certainly had not +expected. Before he sat down to his breakfast he heard the sound of a +horse's feet before the door, and immediately afterwards Peregrine +Orme entered the sitting-room. He was duly shown in by the servant, +and in his ordinary way came forward quickly and shook hands. Then he +waited till the door was closed, and at once began upon the subject +which had brought him there.</p> + +<p>"Mason," he said, "you have heard of this that is being done at The +Cleeve?"</p> + +<p>Lucius immediately fell back a step or two, and considered for a +moment how he should answer. He had pressed very heavily on his +mother in his own thoughts, but he was not prepared to hear her +harshly spoken of by another.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "I have heard."</p> + +<p>"And I understand from your mother that you do not approve of it."</p> + +<p>"Approve of it! No; I do not approve of it."</p> + +<p>"Nor by heavens do I!"</p> + +<p>"I do not approve of it," said Mason, speaking with deliberation; +"but I do not know that I can take any steps towards preventing it."</p> + +<p>"Cannot you see her, and talk to her, and tell her how wrong it is?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong! I do not know that she is wrong in that sense. I do not know +that you have any right to blame her. Why do not you speak to your +grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"So I have—as far as it was possible for me. But you do not know Sir +Peregrine. No one has any influence over him, but my mother;—and now +also your mother."</p> + +<p>"And what does Mrs. Orme say?"</p> + +<p>"She will say nothing. I know well that she disapproves of it. She +must disapprove of it, though she will not say so. She would rather +burn off both her hands than displease my grandfather. She says that +he asked her and that she consented."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that it is for her and you to prevent this."</p> + +<p>"No; it is for your mother to prevent it. Only think of it, Mason. He +is over seventy, and, as he says himself, he will not burden the +estate with a new jointure. Why should she do it?"</p> + +<p>"You are wronging her there. It is no affair of money. She is not +going to marry him for what she can get."</p> + +<p>"Then why should she do it?"</p> + +<p>"Because he tells her. These troubles about the lawsuit have turned +her head, and she has put herself entirely into his hands. I think +she is wrong. I could have protected her from all this evil, and +would have done so. I could have done more, I think, than Sir +Peregrine can do. But she has thought otherwise, and I do not know +that I can help it."</p> + +<p>"But will you speak to her? Will make her perceive that she is +injuring a family that is treating her with kindness?"</p> + +<p>"If she will come here I will speak to her. I cannot do it there. I +cannot go down to your grandfather's house with such an object as +that."</p> + +<p>"All the world will turn against her if she marries him," said +Peregrine. And then there was silence between them for a moment or +two.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said Lucius at last, "that you wrong my mother very +much in this matter, and lay all the blame where but the smallest +part of the blame is deserved. She has no idea of money in her mind, +or any thought of pecuniary advantage. She is moved solely by what +your grandfather has said to her,—and by an insane dread of some +coming evil which she thinks may be lessened by his assistance. You +are in the house with them, and can speak to him,—and if you please +to her also. I do not see that I can do either."</p> + +<p>"And you will not help me to break it off?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly,—if I can see my way."</p> + +<p>"Will you write to her?"</p> + +<p>"Well; I will think about it."</p> + +<p>"Whether she be to blame or not it must be your duty as well as mine +to prevent such a marriage if it be possible. Think what people will +say of it?"</p> + +<p>After some further discussion Peregrine remounted his horse, and rode +back to The Cleeve, not quite satisfied with young Mason.</p> + +<p>"If you do speak to her,—to my mother, do it gently." Those were the +last words whispered by Lucius as Peregrine Orme had his foot in the +stirrup.</p> + +<p>Young Peregrine Orme, as he rode home, felt that the world was using +him very unkindly. Everything was going wrong with him, and an idea +entered his head that he might as well go and look for Sir John +Franklin at the North Pole, or join some energetic traveller in the +middle of Central Africa. He had proposed to Madeline Staveley and +had been refused. That in itself caused a load to lie on his heart +which was almost unendurable;—and now his grandfather was going to +disgrace himself. He had made his little effort to be respectable and +discreet, devoting himself to the county hunt and county +drawing-rooms, giving up the pleasures of London and the glories of +dissipation. And for what?</p> + +<p>Then Peregrine began to argue within himself as some others have done +before <span class="nowrap">him—</span></p> + +<p>"Were it not better done as others use—" he said to himself, in that +or other language; and as he rode slowly into the courtyard of The +Cleeve, he thought almost with regret of his old friend Carroty Bob.</p> + + +<p><a name="c37" id="c37"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4> +<h3>PEREGRINE'S ELOQUENCE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>In the last chapter Peregrine Orme called at Orley Farm with the view +of discussing with Lucius Mason the conduct of their respective +progenitors; and, as will be remembered, the young men agreed in a +general way that their progenitors were about to make fools of +themselves. Poor Peregrine, however, had other troubles on his mind. +Not only had his grandfather been successful in love, but he had been +unsuccessful. As he had journeyed home from Noningsby to The Cleeve +in a high-wheeled vehicle which he called his trap, he had +determined, being then in a frame of mind somewhat softer than was +usual with him, to tell all his troubles to his mother. It sounds as +though it were lack-a-daisical—such a resolve as this on the part of +a dashing young man, who had been given to the pursuit of rats, and +was now a leader among the sons of Nimrod in the pursuit of foxes. +Young men of the present day, when got up for the eyes of the world, +look and talk as though they could never tell their mothers +anything,—as though they were harder than flint, and as little in +want of a woman's counsel and a woman's help as a colonel of horse on +the morning of a battle. But the rigid virility of his outward +accoutrements does in no way alter the man of flesh and blood who +wears them; the young hero, so stern to the eye, is, I believe, as +often tempted by stress of sentiment to lay bare the sorrow of his +heart as is his sister. On this occasion Peregrine said to himself +that he would lay bare the sorrow of his heart. He would find out +what others thought of that marriage which he had proposed to +himself; and then, if his mother encouraged him, and his grandfather +approved, he would make another attack, beginning on the side of the +judge, or perhaps on that of Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>But he found that others, as well as he, were labouring under a +stress of sentiment; and when about to tell his own tale, he had +learned that a tale was to be told to him. He had dined with Lady +Mason, his mother, and his grandfather, and the dinner had been very +silent. Three of the party were in love, and the fourth was burdened +with the telling of the tale. The baronet himself said nothing on the +subject as he and his grandson sat over their wine; but later in the +evening Peregrine was summoned to his mother's room, and she, with +considerable hesitation and much diffidence, informed him of the +coming nuptials.</p> + +<p>"Marry Lady Mason!" he had said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Peregrine. Why should he not do so if they both wish it?"</p> + +<p>Peregrine thought that there were many causes and impediments +sufficiently just why no such marriage should take place, but he had +not his arguments ready at his fingers' ends. He was so stunned by +the intelligence that he could say but little about it on that +occasion. By the few words that he did say, and by the darkness of +his countenance, he showed plainly enough that he disapproved. And +then his mother said all that she could in the baronet's favour, +pointing out that in a pecuniary way Peregrine would receive benefit +rather than injury.</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking of the money, mother."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear; but it is right that I should tell you how considerate +your grandfather is."</p> + +<p>"All the same, I wish he would not marry this woman."</p> + +<p>"Woman, Peregrine! You should not speak in that way of a friend whom +I dearly love."</p> + +<p>"She is a woman all the same." And then he sat sulkily looking at the +fire. His own stress of sentiment did not admit of free discussion at +the present moment, and was necessarily postponed. On that other +affair he was told that his grandfather would be glad to see him on +the following morning; and then he left his mother.</p> + +<p>"Your grandfather, Peregrine, asked for my assent," said Mrs. Orme; +"and I thought it right to give it." This she said to make him +understand that it was no longer in her power to oppose the match. +And she was thoroughly glad that this was so, for she would have +lacked the courage to oppose Sir Peregrine in anything.</p> + +<p>On the next morning Peregrine saw his grandfather before breakfast. +His mother came to his room door while he was dressing to whisper a +word of caution to him. "Pray, be courteous to him," she said. +"Remember how good he is to you—to us both! Say that you +congratulate him."</p> + +<p>"But I don't," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but, Peregrine—"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do, mother. I'll leave the house altogether +and go away, if you wish it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peregrine! How can you speak in that way? But he's waiting now. +Pray, pray, be kind in your manner to him."</p> + +<p>He descended with the same sort of feeling which had oppressed him on +his return home after his encounter with Carroty Bob in Smithfield. +Since then he had been on enduring good terms with his grandfather, +but now again all the discomforts of war were imminent.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, sir," he said, on going into his grandfather's +dressing-room.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Peregrine." And then there was silence for a moment or +two.</p> + +<p>"Did you see your mother last night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I did see her."</p> + +<p>"And she told you what it is that I propose to do?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; she told me."</p> + +<p>"I hope you understand, my boy, that it will not in any way affect +your own interests injuriously."</p> + +<p>"I don't care about that, sir—one way or the other."</p> + +<p>"But I do, Peregrine. Having seen to that I think that I have a right +to please myself in this matter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, sir; I know you have the right."</p> + +<p>"Especially as I can benefit others. Are you aware that your mother +has cordially given her consent to the marriage?"</p> + +<p>"She told me that you had asked her, and that she had agreed to it. +She would agree to anything."</p> + +<p>"Peregrine, that is not the way in which you should speak of your +mother."</p> + +<p>And then the young man stood silent, as though there was nothing more +to be said. Indeed, he had nothing more to say. He did not dare to +bring forward in words all the arguments against the marriage which +were now crowding themselves into his memory, but he could not induce +himself to wish the old man joy, or to say any of those civil things +which are customary on such occasions. The baronet sat for a while, +silent also, and a cloud of anger was coming across his brow; but he +checked that before he spoke. "Well, my boy," he said, and his voice +was almost more than usually kind, "I can understand your thoughts, +and we will say nothing of them at present. All I will ask of you is +to treat Lady Mason in a manner befitting the position in which I +intend to place her."</p> + +<p>"If you think it will be more comfortable, sir, I will leave The +Cleeve for a time."</p> + +<p>"I hope that may not be necessary—Why should it? Or at any rate, not +as yet," he added, as a thought as to his wedding day occurred to +him. And then the interview was over, and in another half-hour they +met again at breakfast.</p> + +<p>In the breakfast-room Lady Mason was also present. Peregrine was the +last to enter, and as he did so his grandfather was already standing +in his usual place, with the book of Prayers in his hand, waiting +that the servants should arrange themselves at their chairs before he +knelt down. There was no time then for much greeting, but Peregrine +did shake hands with her as he stept across to his accustomed corner. +He shook hands with her, and felt that her hand was very cold; but he +did not look at her, nor did he hear any answer given to his muttered +words. When they all got up she remained close to Mrs. Orme, as +though she might thus be protected from the anger which she feared +from Sir Peregrine's other friends. And at breakfast also she sat +close to her, far away from the baronet, and almost hidden by the urn +from his grandson. Sitting there she said nothing; neither in truth +did she eat anything. It was a time of great suffering to her, for +she knew that her coming could not be welcomed by the young heir. "It +must not be," she said to herself over and over again. "Though he +turn me out of the house, I must tell him that it cannot be so."</p> + +<p>After breakfast Peregrine had ridden over to Orley Farm, and there +held his consultation with the other heir. On his returning to The +Cleeve, he did not go into the house, but having given up his horse +to a groom, wandered away among the woods. Lucius Mason had suggested +that he, Peregrine Orme, should himself speak to Lady Mason on this +matter. He felt that his grandfather would be very angry, should he +do so. But he did not regard that much. He had filled himself full +with the theory of his duties, and he would act up to it. He would +see her, without telling any one what was his purpose, and put it to +her whether she would bring down this destruction on so noble a +gentleman. Having thus resolved, he returned to the house, when it +was already dark, and making his way into the drawing-room, sat +himself down before the fire, still thinking of his plan. The room +was dark, as such rooms are dark for the last hour or two before +dinner in January, and he sat himself in an arm-chair before the +fire, intending to sit there till it would be necessary that he +should go to dress. It was an unaccustomed thing with him so to place +himself at such a time, or to remain in the drawing-room at all till +he came down for a few minutes before dinner; but he did so now, +having been thrown out of his usual habits by the cares upon his +mind. He had been so seated about a quarter of an hour, and was +already nearly asleep, when he heard the rustle of a woman's garment, +and looking round, with such light as the fire gave him, perceived +that Lady Mason was in the room. She had entered very quietly, and +was making her way in the dark to a chair which she frequently +occupied, between the fire and one of the windows, and in doing so +she passed so near Peregrine as to touch him with her dress.</p> + +<p>"Lady Mason," he said, speaking, in the first place, in order that +she might know that she was not alone, "it is almost dark; shall I +ring for candles for you?"</p> + +<p>She started at hearing his voice, begged his pardon for disturbing +him, declined his offer of light, and declared that she was going up +again to her own room immediately. But it occurred to him that if it +would be well that he should speak to her, it would be well that he +should do so at once; and what opportunity could be more fitting than +the present? "If you are not in a hurry about anything," he said, +"would you mind staying here for a few minutes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, certainly not." But he could perceive that her voice trembled +in uttering even these few words.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better light a candle," he said; and then he did light +one of those which stood on the corner of the mantelpiece,—a +solitary candle, which only seemed to make the gloom of the large +room visible. She, however, was standing close to it, and would have +much preferred that the room should have been left to its darkness.</p> + +<p>"Won't you sit down for a few minutes?" and then she sat down. "I'll +just shut the door, if you don't mind." And then, having done so, he +returned to his own chair and again faced the fire. He saw that she +was pale and nervous, and he did not like to look at her as he spoke. +He began to reflect also that they might probably be interrupted by +his mother, and he wished that they could adjourn to some other room. +That, however, seemed to be impossible; so he summoned up all his +courage, and began his task.</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't think me uncivil, Lady Mason, for speaking to you +about this affair."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, Mr. Orme; I am sure that you will not be uncivil to me."</p> + +<p>"Of course I cannot help feeling a great concern in it, for it's very +nearly the same, you know, as if he were my father. Indeed, if you +come to that, it's almost worse; and I can assure you it is nothing +about money that I mind. Many fellows in my place would be afraid +about that, but I don't care twopence what he does in that respect. +He is so honest and so noble-hearted, that I am sure he won't do me a +wrong."</p> + +<p>"I hope not, Mr. Orme; and certainly not in respect to me."</p> + +<p>"I only mention it for fear you should misunderstand me. But there +are other reasons, Lady Mason, why this marriage will make me—make +me very unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Are there? I shall be so unhappy if I make others unhappy."</p> + +<p>"You will then,—I can assure you of that. It is not only me, but +your own son. I was up with him to-day, and he thinks of it the same +as I do."</p> + +<p>"What did he say, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"What did he say? Well, I don't exactly remember his words; but he +made me understand that your marriage with Sir Peregrine would make +him very unhappy. He did indeed. Why do you not see him yourself, and +talk to him?"</p> + +<p>"I thought it best to write to him in the first place."</p> + +<p>"Well, now you have written; and don't you think it would be well +that you should go up and see him? You will find that he is quite as +strong against it as I am,—quite."</p> + +<p>Peregrine, had he known it, was using the arguments which were of all +the least likely to induce Lady Mason to pay a visit to Orley Farm. +She dreaded the idea of a quarrel with her son, and would have made +almost any sacrifice to prevent such a misfortune; but at the present +moment she feared the anger of his words almost more than the anger +implied by his absence. If this trial could be got over, she would +return to him and almost throw herself at his feet; but till that +time, might it not be well that they should be apart? At any rate, +these tidings of his discontent could not be efficacious in inducing +her to seek him.</p> + +<p>"Dear Lucius!" she said, not addressing herself to her companion, but +speaking her thoughts. "I would not willingly give him cause to be +discontented with me."</p> + +<p>"He is, then, very discontented. I can assure you of that."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he and I think differently about all this."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but don't you think you had better speak to him before you quite +make up your mind? He is your son, you know; and an uncommon clever +fellow too. He'll know how to say all this much better than I do."</p> + +<p>"Say what, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course you can't expect that anybody will like such a +marriage as this;—that is, anybody except you and Sir Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"Your mother does not object to it."</p> + +<p>"My mother! But you don't know my mother yet. She would not object to +have her head cut off if anybody wanted it that she cared about. I do +not know how it has all been managed, but I suppose Sir Peregrine +asked her. Then of course she would not object. But look at the +common sense of it, Lady Mason. What does the world always say when +an old man like my grandfather marries a young woman?"</p> + +<p>"But I am not—." So far she got, and then she stopped herself.</p> + +<p>"We have all liked you very much. I'm sure I have for one; and I'll +go in for you, heart and soul, in this shameful law business. When +Lucius asked me, I didn't think anything of going to that scoundrel +in Hamworth; and all along I've been delighted that Sir Peregrine +took it up. By heavens! I'd be glad to go down to Yorkshire myself, +and walk into that fellow that wants to do you this injury. I would +indeed; and I'll stand by you as strong as anybody. But, Lady Mason, +when it comes to one's grandfather marrying, +it—it—<span class="nowrap">it—.</span> Think what +people in the county will say of him. If it was your father, and if +he had been at the top of the tree all his life, how would you like +to see him get a fall, and be laughed at as though he were in the mud +just when he was too old ever to get up again?"</p> + +<p>I am not sure whether Lucius Mason, with all his cleverness, could +have put the matter much better, or have used a style of oratory more +efficacious to the end in view. Peregrine had drawn his picture with +a coarse pencil, but he had drawn it strongly, and with graphic +effect. And then he paused; not with self-confidence, or as giving +his companion time to see how great had been his art, but in want of +words, and somewhat confused by the strength of his own thoughts. So +he got up and poked the fire, turning his back to it, and then sat +down again. "It is such a deuce of a thing, Lady Mason," he said, +"that you must not be angry with me for speaking out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme, I am not angry, and I do not know what to say to you."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak to Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"What could he say more than you have said? Dear Mr. Orme, I would +not injure him,—your grandfather, I mean,—for all that the world +holds."</p> + +<p>"You will injure him;—in the eyes of all his friends."</p> + +<p>"Then I will not do it. I will go to him, and beg him that it may not +be so. I will tell him that I cannot. Anything will be better than +bringing him to sorrow or disgrace."</p> + +<p>"By Jove! but will you really?" Peregrine was startled and almost +frightened at the effect of his own eloquence. What would the baronet +say when he learned that he had been talked out of his wife by his +grandson?</p> + +<p>"Mr. Orme," continued Lady Mason, "I am sure you do not understand +how this matter has been brought about. If you did, however much it +might grieve you, you would not blame me, even in your thoughts. From +the first to the last my only desire has been to obey your +grandfather in everything."</p> + +<p>"But you would not marry him out of obedience?"</p> + +<p>"I would—and did so intend. I would, certainly; if in doing so I did +him no injury. You say that your mother would give her life for him. +So would I;—that or anything else that I could give, without hurting +him or others. It was not I that sought for this marriage; nor did I +think of it. If you were in my place, Mr. Orme, you would know how +difficult it is to refuse."</p> + +<p>Peregrine again got up, and standing with his back to the fire, +thought over it all again. His soft heart almost relented towards the +woman who had borne his rough words with so much patient kindness. +Had Sir Peregrine been there then, and could he have condescended so +far, he might have won his grandson's consent without much trouble. +Peregrine, like some other generals, had expended his energy in +gaining his victory, and was more ready now to come to easy terms +than he would have been had he suffered in the combat.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill37" id="ill37"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill37.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill37-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Peregrine's Eloquence." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Peregrine's Eloquence.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill37.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Well," he said after a while, "I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you +for the manner in which you have taken what I said to you. Nobody +knows about it yet, I suppose; and perhaps, if you will talk to the +<span class="nowrap">governor—"</span></p> + +<p>"I will talk to him, Mr. Orme."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; and then perhaps all things may turn out right. I'll go +and dress now." And so saying he took his departure, leaving her to +consider how best she might act at this crisis of her life, so that +things might go right, if such were possible. The more she thought of +it, the less possible it seemed that her affairs should be made to go +right.</p> + + +<p><a name="c38" id="c38"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h4> +<h3>OH, INDEED!<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The dinner on that day at The Cleeve was not very dull. Peregrine had +some hopes that the idea of the marriage might be abandoned, and was +at any rate much better disposed towards Lady Mason than he had been. +He spoke to her, asking her whether she had been out, and suggesting +roast mutton or some such creature comfort. This was lost neither on +Sir Peregrine nor on Mrs. Orme, and they both exerted themselves to +say a few words in a more cheery tone than had been customary in the +house for the last day or two. Lady Mason herself did not say much; +but she had sufficient tact to see the effort which was being made; +and though she spoke but little she smiled and accepted graciously +the courtesies that were tendered to her.</p> + +<p>Then the two ladies went away, and Peregrine was again left with his +grandfather. "That was a nasty accident that Graham had going out of +Monkton Grange," said he, speaking on the moment of his closing the +dining-room door after his mother. "I suppose you heard all about it, +sir?" Having fought his battle so well before dinner, he was +determined to give some little rest to his half-vanquished enemy.</p> + +<p>"The first tidings we heard were that he was dead," said Sir +Peregrine, filling his glass.</p> + +<p>"No; he wasn't dead. But of course you know that now. He broke an arm +and two ribs, and got rather a bad squeeze. He was just behind me, +you know, and I had to wait for him. I lost the run, and had to see +Harriet Tristram go away with the best lead any one has had to a fast +thing this year. That's an uncommon nasty place at the back of +Monkton Grange."</p> + +<p>"I hope, Peregrine, you don't think too much about Harriet Tristram."</p> + +<p>"Think of her! who? I? Think of her in what sort of a way? I think +she goes uncommonly well to hounds."</p> + +<p>"That may be, but I should not wish to see you pin your happiness on +any lady that was celebrated chiefly for going well to hounds."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean marry her?" and Peregrine immediately made a strong +comparison in his mind between Miss Tristram and Madeline Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Yes; that's what I did mean."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have her if she owned every fox-cover in the county. No, +by Jove! I know a trick worth two of that. It's jolly enough to see +them going, but as to being in love with them—in that sort of +<span class="nowrap">way—"</span></p> + +<p>"You are quite right, my boy; quite right. It is not that that a man +wants in a wife."</p> + +<p>"No," said Peregrine, with a melancholy cadence in his voice, +thinking of what it was that he did want. And so they sat sipping +their wine. The turn which the conversation had taken had for the +moment nearly put Lady Mason out of the young man's head.</p> + +<p>"You would be very young to marry yet," said the baronet.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should be young; but I don't know that there is any harm in +that."</p> + +<p>"Quite the contrary, if a young man feels himself to be sufficiently +settled. Your mother I know would be very glad that you should marry +early;—and so should I, if you married well."</p> + +<p>What on earth could all this mean? It could not be that his +grandfather knew that he was in love with Miss Staveley; and had this +been known his grandfather would not have talked of Harriet Tristram. +"Oh yes; of course a fellow should marry well. I don't think much of +marrying for money."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I, Peregrine;—I think very little of it."</p> + +<p>"Nor about being of very high birth."</p> + +<p>"Well; it would make me unhappy—very unhappy if you were to marry +below your own rank."</p> + +<p>"What do you call my own rank?"</p> + +<p>"I mean any girl whose father is not a gentleman, and whose mother is +not a lady; and of whose education among ladies you could not feel +certain."</p> + +<p>"I could be quite certain about her," said Peregrine, very +innocently.</p> + +<p>"Her! what her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I forgot that we were talking about nobody."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean Harriet Tristram?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not."</p> + +<p>"Of whom were you thinking, Peregrine? May I ask—if it be not too +close a secret?" And then again there was a pause, during which +Peregrine emptied his glass and filled it again. He had no objection +to talk to his grandfather about Miss Staveley, but he felt ashamed +of having allowed the matter to escape him in this sort of way. "I +will tell you why I ask, my boy," continued the baronet. "I am going +to do that which many people will call a very foolish thing."</p> + +<p>"You mean about Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I mean my own marriage with Lady Mason. We will not talk about +that just at present, and I only mention it to explain that before I +do so, I shall settle the property permanently. If you were married I +should at once divide it with you. I should like to keep the old +house myself, till I <span class="nowrap">die—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Sir!"</p> + +<p>"But sooner than give you cause of offence I would give that up."</p> + +<p>"I would not consent to live in it unless I did so as your guest."</p> + +<p>"Until your marriage I think of settling on you a thousand a +year;—but it would add to my happiness if I thought it likely that +you would marry soon. Now may I ask of whom were you thinking?"</p> + +<p>Peregrine paused for a second or two before he made any reply, and +then he brought it out boldly. "I was thinking of Madeline Staveley."</p> + +<p>"Then, my boy, you were thinking of the prettiest girl and the +best-bred lady in the county. Here's her health;" and he filled for +himself a bumper of claret. "You couldn't have named a woman whom I +should be more proud to see you bring home. And your mother's opinion +of her is the same as mine. I happen to know that;" and with a look +of triumph he drank his glass of wine, as though much that was very +joyful to him had been already settled.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Peregrine mournfully, "she is a very nice girl; at least +I think so."</p> + +<p>"The man who can win her, Peregrine, may consider himself to be a +lucky fellow. You were quite right in what you were saying about +money. No man feels more sure of that than I do. But if I am not +mistaken Miss Staveley will have something of her own. I rather think +that Arbuthnot got ten thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know, sir," said Peregrine; and his voice was by no +means as much elated as that of his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"I think he did; or if he didn't get it all, the remainder is settled +on him. And the judge is not a man to behave better to one child than +to another."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not."</p> + +<p>And then the conversation flagged a little, for the enthusiasm was +all one side. It was moreover on that side which naturally would have +been the least enthusiastic. Poor Peregrine had only told half his +secret as yet, and that not the most important half. To Sir Peregrine +the tidings, as far as he had heard them, were very pleasant. He did +not say to himself that he would purchase his grandson's assent to +his own marriage by giving his consent to his grandson's marriage. +But it did seem to him that the two affairs, acting upon each other, +might both be made to run smooth. His heir could have made no better +choice in selecting the lady of his love. Sir Peregrine had feared +much that some Miss Tristram or the like might have been tendered to +him as the future Lady Orme, and he was agreeably surprised to find +that a new mistress for The Cleeve had been so well chosen. He would +be all kindness to his grandson and win from him, if it might be +possible, reciprocal courtesy and complaisance. "Your mother will be +very pleased when she hears this," he said.</p> + +<p>"I meant to tell my mother," said Peregrine, still very dolefully, +"but I do not know that there is anything in it to please her. I only +said that I—I admired Miss Staveley."</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, if you'll take my advice you'll propose to her at once. +You have been staying in the same house with her, +<span class="nowrap">and—"</span></p> + +<p>"But I have."</p> + +<p>"Have what?"</p> + +<p>"I have proposed to her."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"And she has refused me. You know all about it now, and there's no +such great cause for joy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have proposed to her. Have you spoken to her father or +mother?"</p> + +<p>"What was the use when she told me plainly that she did not care for +me? Of course I should have asked her father. As to Lady Staveley, +she and I got on uncommonly well. I'm almost inclined to think that +she would not have objected."</p> + +<p>"It would be a very nice match for them, and I dare say she would not +have objected." And then for some ten minutes they sat looking at the +fire. Peregrine had nothing more to say about it, and the baronet was +thinking how best he might encourage his grandson.</p> + +<p>"You must try again, you know," at last he said.</p> + +<p>"Well; I fear not. I do not think it would be any good. I'm not quite +sure she does not care for some one else."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a fellow that's there. The man who broke his arm. I don't say +she does, you know, and of course you won't mention it."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine gave the necessary promises, and then endeavoured to +give encouragement to the lover. He would himself see the judge, if +it were thought expedient, and explain what liberal settlement would +be made on the lady in the event of her altering her mind. "Young +ladies, you know, are very prone to alter their minds on such +matters," said the old man. In answer to which Peregrine declared his +conviction that Madeline Staveley would not alter her mind. But then +do not all despondent lovers hold that opinion of their own +mistresses?</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had been a great gainer by what had occurred, and so he +felt it. At any rate all the novelty of the question of his own +marriage was over, as between him and Peregrine; and then he had +acquired a means of being gracious which must almost disarm his +grandson of all power of criticism. When he, an old man, was ready to +do so much to forward the views of a young man, could it be possible +that the young man should oppose his wishes? And Peregrine was aware +that his power of opposition was thus lessened.</p> + +<p>In the evening nothing remarkable occurred between them. Each had his +or her own plans; but these plans could not be furthered by anything +to be said in a general assembly. Lady Mason had already told to Mrs. +Orme all that had passed in the drawing-room before dinner, and Sir +Peregrine had determined that he would consult Mrs. Orme as to that +matter regarding Miss Staveley. He did not think much of her refusal. +Young ladies always do refuse—at first.</p> + +<p>On the day but one following this there came another visit from Mr. +Furnival, and he was for a long time closeted with Sir Peregrine. +Matthew Round had, he said, been with him, and had felt himself +obliged in the performance of his duty to submit a case to counsel on +behalf of his client Joseph Mason. He had not as yet received the +written opinion of Sir Richard Leatherham, to whom he had applied; +but nevertheless, as he wished to give every possible notice, he had +called to say that his firm were of opinion that an action must be +brought either for forgery or for perjury.</p> + +<p>"For perjury!" Mr. Furnival had said.</p> + +<p>"Well; yes. We would wish to be as little harsh as possible. But if +we convict her of having sworn falsely when she gave evidence as to +having copied the codicil herself, and having seen it witnessed by +the pretended witnesses;—why in that case of course the property +would go back."</p> + +<p>"I can't give any opinion as to what might be the result in such a +case," said Mr. Furnival.</p> + +<p>Mr. Round had gone on to say that he thought it improbable that the +action could be tried before the summer assizes.</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better as far as we are concerned," said Mr. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>"If you really mean that, I will see that there shall be no +unnecessary delay." Mr. Furnival had declared that he did really mean +it, and so the interview had ended.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival had really meant it, fully concurring in the opinion +which Mr. Chaffanbrass had expressed on this matter; but nevertheless +the increasing urgency of the case had almost made him tremble. He +still carried himself with a brave outside before Mat Round, +protesting as to the utter absurdity as well as cruelty of the whole +proceeding; but his conscience told him that it was not absurd. +"Perjury!" he said to himself, and then he rang the bell for +Crabwitz. The upshot of that interview was that Mr. Crabwitz received +a commission to arrange a meeting between that great barrister, the +member for the Essex Marshes, and Mr. Solomon Aram.</p> + +<p>"Won't it look rather, rather—rather—; you know what I mean, sir?" +Crabwitz had asked.</p> + +<p>"We must fight these people with their own weapons," said Mr. +Furnival;—not exactly with justice, seeing that Messrs. Round and +Crook were not at all of the same calibre in the profession as Mr. +Solomon Aram.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival had already at this time seen Mr. Slow, of the firm of +Slow and Bideawhile, who were Sir Peregrine's solicitors. This he had +done chiefly that he might be able to tell Sir Peregrine that he had +seen him. Mr. Slow had declared that the case was one which his firm +would not be prepared to conduct, and he named a firm to which he +should recommend his client to apply. But Mr. Furnival, carefully +considering the whole matter, had resolved to take the advice and +benefit by the experience of Mr. Chaffanbrass.</p> + +<p>And then he went down once more to The Cleeve. Poor Mr. Furnival! In +these days he was dreadfully buffeted about both as regards his outer +man and his inner conscience by this unfortunate case, giving up to +it time that would otherwise have turned itself into heaps of gold; +giving up domestic conscience—for Mrs. Furnival was still hot in her +anger against poor Lady Mason; and giving up also much peace of mind, +for he felt that he was soiling his hands by dirty work. But he +thought of the lady's pale sweet face, of her tear-laden eye, of her +soft beseeching tones, and gentle touch; he thought of these +things—as he should not have thought of them;—and he persevered.</p> + +<p>On this occasion he was closeted with Sir Peregrine for a couple of +hours, and each heard much from the other that surprised him very +much. Sir Peregrine, when he was told that Mr. Solomon Aram from +Bucklersbury, and Mr. Chaffanbrass from the Old Bailey, were to be +retained for the defence of his future wife, drew himself up and said +that he could hardly approve of it. The gentlemen named were no doubt +very clever in criminal concerns; he could understand as much as +that, though he had not had great opportunity of looking into affairs +of that sort. But surely, in Lady Mason's case, assistance of such a +description would hardly be needed. Would it not be better to consult +Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile?</p> + +<p>And then it turned out that Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile had been +consulted; and Mr. Furnival, not altogether successfully, endeavoured +to throw dust into the baronet's eyes, declaring that in a combat +with the devil one must use the devil's weapons. He assured Sir +Peregrine that he had given the matter his most matured and indeed +most painful professional consideration; there were unfortunate +circumstances which required peculiar care; it was a matter which +would depend entirely on the evidence of one or two persons who might +be suborned; and in such a case it would be well to trust to those +who knew how to break down and crush a lying witness. In such work as +that Slow and Bideawhile would be innocent and ignorant as babes. As +to breaking down and crushing a witness anxious to speak the truth, +Mr. Furnival at that time said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I will not think that falsehood and fraud can prevail," said Sir +Peregrine proudly.</p> + +<p>"But they do prevail sometimes," said Mr. Furnival. And then with +much outer dignity of demeanour, but with some shame-faced tremblings +of the inner man hidden under the guise of that outer dignity, Sir +Peregrine informed the lawyer of his great purpose.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Mr. Furnival, throwing himself back into his chair +with a start.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Furnival. I should not have taken the liberty to trouble +you with a matter so private in its nature, but for your close +professional intimacy and great friendship with Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Furnival; and the baronet could understand +from the lawyer's tone that even he did not approve.</p> + + +<p><a name="c39" id="c39"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4> +<h3>WHY SHOULD HE GO?<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"I am well aware, Mr. Staveley, that you are one of those gentlemen +who amuse themselves by frequently saying such things to girls. I had +learned your character in that respect before I had been in the house +two days."</p> + +<p>"Then, Miss Furnival, you learned what was very false. May I ask who +has blackened me in this way in your estimation?" It will be easily +seen from this that Mr. Augustus Staveley and Miss Furnival were at +the present moment alone together in one of the rooms at Noningsby.</p> + +<p>"My informant," she replied, "has been no one special sinner whom you +can take by the throat and punish. Indeed, if you must shoot anybody, +it should be chiefly yourself, and after that your father, and +mother, and sisters. But you need not talk of being black. Such sins +are venial now-a-days, and convey nothing deeper than a light shade +of brown."</p> + +<p>"I regard a man who can act in such a way as very base."</p> + +<p>"Such a way as what, Mr. Staveley?"</p> + +<p>"A man who can win a girl's heart for his own amusement."</p> + +<p>"I said nothing about the winning of hearts. That is treachery of the +worst dye; but I acquit you of any such attempt. When there is a +question of the winning of hearts men look so different."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how they look," said Augustus, not altogether satisfied +as to the manner in which he was being treated—"but such has been my +audacity,—my too great audacity on the present occasion."</p> + +<p>"You are the most audacious of men, for your audacity would carry you +to the feet of another lady to-morrow without the slightest check."</p> + +<p>"And that is the only answer I am to receive from you?"</p> + +<p>"It is quite answer enough. What would you have me do? Get up and +decline the honour of being Mrs. Augustus Staveley with a curtsy?"</p> + +<p>"No—I would have you do nothing of the kind. I would have you get up +and accept the honour,—with a kiss."</p> + +<p>"So that you might have the kiss, and I might have the—; I was going +to say disappointment, only that would be untrue. Let me assure you +that I am not so demonstrative in my tokens of regard."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether you mean that you are not so honest?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Staveley; I mean nothing of the kind; and you are very +impertinent to express such a supposition. What have I done or said +to make you suppose that I have lost my heart to you?"</p> + +<p>"As you have mine, it is at any rate human nature in me to hope that +I might have yours."</p> + +<p>"Psha! your heart! You have been making a shuttlecock of it till it +is doubtful whether you have not banged it to pieces. I know two +ladies who carry in their caps two feathers out of it. It is so easy +to see when a man is in love. They all go cross-gartered like +Malvolio;—cross-gartered in their looks and words and doings."</p> + +<p>"And there is no touch of all this in me?"</p> + +<p>"You cross-gartered! You have never got so far yet as a +lack-a-daisical twist to the corner of your mouth. Did you watch Mr. +Orme before he went away?"</p> + +<p>"Why; was he cross-gartered?"</p> + +<p>"But you men have no eyes; you never see anything. And your idea of +love-making is to sit under a tree wishing, wondering whether the +ripe fruit will fall down into your mouth. Ripe fruit does sometimes +fall, and then it is all well with you. But if it won't, you pass on +and say that it is sour. As for +<span class="nowrap">climbing—"</span></p> + +<p>"The fruit generally falls too fast to admit of such exercise," said +Staveley, who did not choose that all the sharp things should be said +on the other side.</p> + +<p>"And that is the result of your very extended experience? The +orchards which have been opened to you have not, I fear, been of the +first quality. Mr. Staveley, my hand will do very well by itself. +Such is not the sort of climbing that is required. That is what I +call stooping to pick up the fruit that has fallen." And as she +spoke, she moved a little away from him on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"And how is a man to climb?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean that you want a lesson? But if I were to tell +you, my words would be thrown away. Men will not labour who have +gotten all that they require without work. Why strive to deserve any +woman, when women are plenty who do not care to be deserved? That +plan of picking up the fallen apples is so much the easier."</p> + +<p>The lesson might perhaps have been given, and Miss Furnival might +have imparted to Mr. Staveley her idea of "excelsior" in the matter +of love-making, had not Mr. Staveley's mother come into the room at +that moment. Mrs. Staveley was beginning to fear that the results of +her Christmas hospitality would not be satisfactory. Peregrine Orme, +whom she would have been so happy to welcome to the warmest corner of +her household temple as a son, had been sent away in wretchedness and +disappointment. Madeline was moping about the house, hardly making an +effort to look like herself; attributing, in her mother's ears, all +her complaint to that unexpected interview with Peregrine Orme, but +not so attributing it—as her mother fancied—with correctness. And +there was Felix Graham still in the room up stairs, the doctor having +said that he might be moved in a day or two;—that is, such movement +might possibly be effected without detriment;—but having said also +that another ten days of uninterrupted rest would be very desirable. +And now, in addition to this, her son Augustus was to be found on +every wet morning closeted somewhere with Sophia Furnival;—on every +wet morning, and sometimes on dry mornings also!</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill39" id="ill39"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill39.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill39-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lady Stavely interrupting her Son and Sophia Furnival." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lady Stavely interrupting her Son and Sophia Furnival.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill39.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>And then, on this very day, Lady Staveley had discovered that Felix +Graham's door in the corridor was habitually left open. She knew her +child too well, and was too clear and pure in her own mind, to +suppose that there was anything wrong in this;—that clandestine +talkings were arranged, or anything planned in secret. What she +feared was that which really occurred. The door was left open, and as +Madeline passed Felix would say a word, and then Madeline would pause +and answer him. Such words as they were might have been spoken before +all the household, and if so spoken would have been free from danger. +But they were not free from danger when spoken in that way, in the +passage of a half-closed doorway;—all which Lady Staveley understood +perfectly.</p> + +<p>"Baker," she had said, with more of anger in her voice than was usual +with her, "why do you leave that door open?"</p> + +<p>"I think it sweetens the room, my lady;" and, indeed, Felix Graham +sometimes thought so too.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense; every sound in the house must be heard. Keep it shut, if +you please."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady," said Mrs. Baker—who also understood perfectly.</p> + +<p>"He is better, my darling," said Mrs. Baker to Madeline, the same +day; "and, indeed, for that he is well enough as regards eating and +drinking. But it would be cruelty to move him yet. I heard what the +doctor said."</p> + +<p>"Who talks of moving him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he talks of it himself; and the doctor said it might be +possible. But I know what that means."</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, just this: that if we want to get rid of him, it won't quite be +the death of him."</p> + +<p>"But who wants to get rid of him?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't. I don't mind my trouble the least in life. He's as +nice a young gentleman as ever I sat beside the bed of; and he's full +of spirit—he is."</p> + +<p>And then Madeline appealed to her mother. Surely her mother would not +let Mr. Graham be sent out of the house in his present state, merely +because the doctor said it might be possible to move him without +causing his instant death! And tears stood in poor Madeline's eyes as +she thus pleaded the cause of the sick and wounded. This again +tormented Lady Staveley, who found it necessary to give further +caution to Mrs. Baker. "Baker," she said, "how can you be so foolish +as to be talking to Miss Madeline about Mr. Graham's arm?"</p> + +<p>"Who, my lady? I, my lady?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you; when you know that the least thing frightens her. Don't +you remember how ill it made her when Roger"—Roger was an old family +groom—"when Roger had that accident?" Lady Staveley might have saved +herself the trouble of the reminiscence as to Roger, for Baker knew +more about it than that. When Roger's scalp had been laid bare by a +fall, Miss Madeline had chanced to see it, and had fainted; but Miss +Madeline was not fainting now. Baker knew all about it, almost better +than Lady Staveley herself. It was of very little use talking to +Baker about Roger the groom. Baker thought that Mr. Felix Graham was +a very nice young man, in spite of his "not being exactly +handsomelike about the physgognomy," as she remarked to one of the +younger maids, who much preferred Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>Coming away from this last interval with Mrs. Baker, Lady Staveley +interrupted her son and Sophia Furnival in the back drawing-room, and +began to feel that her solicitude for her children would be almost +too much for her. Why had she asked that nasty girl to her house, and +why would not the nasty girl go away? As for her going away, there +was no present hope; for it had been arranged that she should stay +for another fortnight. Why could not the Fates have been kind, and +have allowed Felix Graham and Miss Furnival to fall in love with each +other? "I can never make a daughter of her if he does marry her," +Lady Staveley said to herself, as she looked at them.</p> + +<p>Augustus looked as though he were detected, and stammered out some +question about his mother and the carriage; but Miss Furnival did not +for a moment lose her easy presence of mind. "Lady Staveley," said +she, "why does not your son go and hunt, or shoot, or fish, instead +of staying in the house all day? It seems to me that his time is so +heavy on his hands that he will almost have to hang himself."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can't tell," said Lady Staveley, who was not so perfect +an actor as her guest.</p> + +<p>"I do think gentlemen in the house in the morning always look so +unfortunate. You have been endeavouring to make yourself agreeable, +but you know you've been yawning."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose then that men never sit still in the morning?" said +Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Oh, in their chambers, yes; or on the bench, and perhaps also behind +counters; but they very seldom do so in a drawing-room. You have been +fidgeting about with the poker till you have destroyed the look of +the fireplace."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll go and fidget up stairs with Graham," said he; and so he +left the room.</p> + +<p>"Nasty, sly girl," said Lady Staveley to herself as she took up her +work and sat herself down in her own chair.</p> + +<p>Augustus did go up to his friend and found him reading letters. There +was no one else in the room, and the door when Augustus reached it +was properly closed. "I think I shall be off to-morrow, old boy," +said Felix.</p> + +<p>"Then I think you'll do no such thing," said Augustus. "What's in the +wind now?"</p> + +<p>"The doctor said this morning that I could be moved without danger."</p> + +<p>"He said that it might possibly be done in two or three days—that +was all. What on earth makes you so impatient? You've nothing to do. +Nobody else wants to see you; and nobody here wants to get rid of +you."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong in all your three statements."</p> + +<p>"The deuce I am! Who wants to get rid of you?"</p> + +<p>"That shall come last. I have something to do, and somebody else does +want to see me. I've got a letter from Mary here, and another from +Mrs. Thomas;" and he held up to view two letters which he had +received, and which had, in truth, startled him.</p> + +<p>"Mary's duenna;—the artist who is supposed to be moulding the wife."</p> + +<p>"Yes; Mary's duenna, or Mary's artist, whichever you please."</p> + +<p>"And which of them wants to see you? It's just like a woman, to +require a man's attendance exactly when he is unable to move."</p> + +<p>Then Felix, though he did not give up the letters to be read, +described to a certain extent their contents. "I don't know what on +earth has happened," he said. "Mary is praying to be forgiven, and +saying that it is not her fault; and Mrs. Thomas is full of +apologies, declaring that her conscience forces her to tell +everything; and yet, between them both, I do not know what has +happened."</p> + +<p>"Miss Snow has probably lost the key of the workbox you gave her."</p> + +<p>"I have not given her a workbox."</p> + +<p>"Then the writing-desk. That's what a man has to endure when he will +make himself head schoolmaster to a young lady. And so you're going +to look after your charge with your limbs still in bandages?"</p> + +<p>"Just so;" and then he took up the two letters and read them again, +while Staveley still sat on the foot of the bed. "I wish I knew what +to think about it," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"About what?" said the other. And then there was another pause, and +another reading of a portion of the letters.</p> + +<p>"There seems something—something almost frightful to me," said Felix +gravely, "in the idea of marrying a girl in a few months' time, who +now, at so late a period of our engagement, writes to me in that sort +of cold, formal way."</p> + +<p>"It's the proper moulded-wife style, you may depend," said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what, Staveley, if you can talk to me seriously for +five minutes, I shall be obliged to you. If that is impossible to +you, say so, and I will drop the matter."</p> + +<p>"Well, go on; I am serious enough in what I intend to express, even +though I may not be so in my words."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to have my doubts about this dear girl."</p> + +<p>"I've had my doubts for some time."</p> + +<p>"Not, mark you, with regard to myself. The question is not now +whether I can love her sufficiently for my own happiness. On that +side I have no longer the right to a doubt."</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't marry her if you did not love her."</p> + +<p>"We need not discuss that. But what if she does not love me? What if +she would think it a release to be freed from this engagement? How am +I to find that out?"</p> + +<p>Augustus sat for a while silent, for he did feel that the matter was +serious. The case as he looked at it stood thus:—His friend Graham +had made a very foolish bargain, from which he would probably be glad +to escape, though he could not now bring himself to say as much. But +this bargain, bad for him, would probably be very good for the young +lady. The young lady, having no shilling of her own, and no merits of +birth or early breeding to assist her outlook in the world, might +probably regard her ready-made engagement to a clever, kind-hearted, +high-spirited man, as an advantage not readily to be abandoned. +Staveley, as a sincere friend, was very anxious that the match should +be broken off; but he could not bring himself to tell Graham that he +thought that the young lady would so wish. According to his idea the +young lady must undergo a certain amount of disappointment, and +receive a certain amount of compensation. Graham had been very +foolish, and must pay for his folly. But in preparing to do so, it +would be better that he should see and acknowledge the whole truth of +the matter.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure that you have found out your own feelings?" Staveley +said at last; and his tone was then serious enough even for his +friend.</p> + +<p>"It hardly matters whether I have or have not," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"It matters above all things;—above all things, because as to them +you may come to something like certainty. Of the inside of her heart +you cannot know so much. The fact I take it is this—that you would +wish to escape from this bondage."</p> + +<p>"No; not unless I thought she regarded it as bondage also. It may be +that she does. As for myself, I believe that at the present moment +such a marriage would be for me the safest step that I could take."</p> + +<p>"Safe as against what danger?"</p> + +<p>"All dangers. How, if I should learn to love another woman,—some one +utterly out of my reach,—while I am still betrothed to her?"</p> + +<p>"I rarely flatter you, Graham, and don't mean to do it now; but no +girl ought to be out of your reach. You have talent, position, birth, +and gifts of nature, which should make you equal to any lady. As for +money, the less you have the more you should look to get. But if you +would cease to be mad, two years would give you command of an +income."</p> + +<p>"But I shall never cease to be mad."</p> + +<p>"Who is it that cannot be serious, now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I will be serious—serious enough. I can afford to be so, as I +have received my medical passport for to-morrow. No girl, you say, +ought to be out of my reach. If the girl were one Miss Staveley, +should she be regarded as out of my reach?"</p> + +<p>"A man doesn't talk about his own sister," said Staveley, having got +up from the bed and walked to the window, "and I know you don't mean +anything."</p> + +<p>"But, by heavens! I do mean a great deal."</p> + +<p>"What is it you mean, then?"</p> + +<p>"I mean this—What would you say if you learned that I was a suitor +for her hand?"</p> + +<p>Staveley had been right in saying that a man does not talk about his +own sister. When he had declared, with so much affectionate +admiration for his friend's prowess, that he might aspire to the hand +of any lady, that one retiring, modest-browed girl had not been +thought of by him. A man in talking to another man about women is +always supposed to consider those belonging to himself as exempt from +the incidents of the conversation. The dearest friends do not talk to +each other about their sisters when they have once left school; and a +man in such a position as that now taken by Graham has to make fight +for his ground as closely as though there had been no former +intimacies. My friend Smith in such a matter as that, though I have +been hail fellow with him for the last ten years, has very little +advantage over Jones, who was introduced to the house for the first +time last week. And therefore Staveley felt himself almost injured +when Felix Graham spoke to him about Madeline.</p> + +<p>"What would I say? Well—that is a question one does not understand, +unless—unless you really meant to state it as a fact that it was +your intention to propose to her."</p> + +<p>"But I mean rather to state it as a fact that it is not my intention +to propose to her."</p> + +<p>"Then we had better not speak of her."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me a moment. In order that I may not do so, it will be +better for me—better for us all, that I should leave the house."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say—?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do mean to say! I mean to say all that your mind is now +suggesting to you. I quite understand your feelings when you declare +that a man does not like to talk of his own sister, and therefore we +will talk of your sister no more. Old fellow, don't look at me as +though you meant to drop me."</p> + +<p>Augustus came back to the bedside, and again seating himself, put his +hand almost caressingly over his friend's shoulder. "I did not think +of this," he said.</p> + +<p>"No; one never does think of it," Graham replied.</p> + +<p>"And she?"</p> + +<p>"She knows no more of it than that bed-post," said Graham. "The +injury, such as there is, is all on one side. But I'll tell you who +suspects it."</p> + +<p>"Baker?"</p> + +<p>"Your mother. I am much mistaken if you will not find that she, with +all her hospitality, would prefer that I should recover my strength +elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"But you have done nothing to betray yourself."</p> + +<p>"A mother's ears are very sharp. I know that it is so. I cannot +explain to you how. Do you tell her that I think of getting up to +London to-morrow, and see how she will take it. And, Staveley, do not +for a moment suppose that I am reproaching her. She is quite right. I +believe that I have in no way committed myself—that I have said no +word to your sister with which Lady Staveley has a right to feel +herself aggrieved; but if she has had the wit to read the thoughts of +my bosom, she is quite right to wish that I were out of the house."</p> + +<p>Poor Lady Staveley had been possessed of no such wit at all. The +sphynx which she had read had been one much more in her own line. She +had simply read the thoughts in her daughter's bosom—or rather, the +feelings in her daughter's heart.</p> + +<p>Augustus Staveley hardly knew what he ought to say. He was not +prepared to tell his friend that he was the very brother-in-law for +whose connection he would be desirous. Such a marriage for Madeline, +even should Madeline desire it, would not be advantageous. When +Augustus told Graham that he had gifts of nature which made him equal +to any lady, he did not include his own sister. And yet the idea of +acquiescing in his friend's sudden departure was very painful to him. +"There can be no reason why you should not stay up here, you know," +at last he said;—and in so saying he pronounced an absolute verdict +against poor Felix.</p> + +<p>On few matters of moment to a man's own heart can he speak out +plainly the whole truth that is in him. Graham had intended so to do, +but had deceived himself. He had not absolutely hoped that his friend +would say, "Come among us, and be one of us; take her, and be my +brother." But yet there came upon his heart a black load of +disappointment, in that the words which were said were the exact +opposite of these. Graham had spoken of himself as unfit to match +with Madeline Staveley, and Madeline Staveley's brother had taken him +at his word. The question which Augustus asked himself was this—Was +it, or was it not practicable that Graham should remain there without +danger of intercourse with his sister? To Felix the question came in +a very different shape. After having spoken as he had spoken—might +he be allowed to remain there, enjoying such intercourse, or might he +not? That was the question to which he had unconsciously demanded an +answer;—and unconsciously he had still hoped that the question might +be answered in his favour. He had so hoped, although he was burdened +with Mary Snow, and although he had spoken of his engagement with +that lady in so rigid a spirit of self-martyrdom. But the question +had been answered against him. The offer of a further asylum in the +seclusion of that bedroom had been made to him by his friend with a +sort of proviso that it would not be well that he should go further +than the bedroom, and his inner feelings at once grated against each +other, making him wretched and almost angry.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, no; I understand how kind you are, but I will not do +that. I will write up to-night, and shall certainly start to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow—"</p> + +<p>"I should get into a fever, if I were to remain in this house after +what I have told you. I could not endure to see you, or your mother, +or Baker, or Marian, or any one else. Don't talk about it. Indeed, +you ought to feel that it is not possible. I have made a confounded +ass of myself, and the sooner I get away the better. I say—perhaps +you would not be angry if I was to ask you to let me sleep for an +hour or so now. After that I'll get up and write my letters."</p> + +<p>He was very sore. He knew that he was sick at heart, and ill at ease, +and cross with his friend; and knew also that he was unreasonable in +being so. Staveley's words and manner had been full of kindness. +Graham was aware of this, and was therefore the more irritated with +himself. But this did not prevent his being angry and cross with his +friend.</p> + +<p>"Graham," said the other, "I see clearly enough that I have annoyed +you."</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. A man falls into the mud, and then calls to +another man to come and see him. The man in the mud of course is not +comfortable."</p> + +<p>"But you have called to me, and I have not been able to help you."</p> + +<p>"I did not suppose you would, so there has been no disappointment. +Indeed, there was no possibility for help. I shall follow out the +line of life which I have long since chalked out for myself, and I do +not expect that I shall be more wretched than other poor devils +around me. As far as my idea goes, it all makes very little +difference. Now leave me; there's a good fellow."</p> + +<p>"Dear old fellow, I would give my right hand if it would make you +happy!"</p> + +<p>"But it won't. Your right hand will make somebody else happy, I +hope."</p> + +<p>"I'll come up to you again before dinner."</p> + +<p>"Very well. And, Staveley, what we have now said cannot be forgotten +between us; but when we next meet, and ever after, let it be as +though it were forgotten." Then he settled himself down on the bed, +and Augustus left the room.</p> + +<p>It will not be supposed that Graham did go to sleep, or that he had +any thought of doing so. When he was alone those words of his friend +rang over and over again in his ears, "No girl ought to be out of +your reach." Why should Madeline Staveley be out of his reach, simply +because she was his friend's sister? He had been made welcome to that +house, and therefore he was bound to do nothing unhandsome by the +family. But then he was bound by other laws, equally clear, to do +nothing unhandsome by any other family—or by any other lady. If +there was anything in Staveley's words, they applied as strongly to +Staveley's sister as to any other girl. And why should not he, a +lawyer, marry a lawyer's daughter? Sophia Furnival, with her hatful +of money, would not be considered too high for him; and in what +respect was Madeline Staveley above Sophia Furnival? That the one was +immeasurably above the other in all those respects which in his +estimation tended towards female perfection, he knew to be true +enough; but the fruit which he had been forbidden to gather hung no +higher on the social tree than that other fruit which he had been +specially invited to pluck and garner.</p> + +<p>And then Graham was not a man to think any fruit too high for him. He +had no overweening idea of his own deserts, either socially or +professionally, nor had he taught himself to expect great things from +his own genius; but he had that audacity of spirit which bids a man +hope to compass that which he wishes to compass,—that audacity which +is both the father and mother of success,—that audacity which seldom +exists without the inner capability on which it ought to rest.</p> + +<p>But then there was Mary Snow! Augustus Staveley thought but little of +Mary Snow. According to his theory of his friend's future life, Mary +Snow might be laid aside without much difficulty. If this were so, +why should not Madeline be within his reach? But then was it so? Had +he not betrothed himself to Mary Snow in the presence of the girl's +father, with every solemnity and assurance, in a manner fixed beyond +that of all other betrothals? Alas, yes; and for this reason it was +right that he should hurry away from Noningsby.</p> + +<p>Then he thought of Mary's letter, and of Mrs. Thomas's letter. What +was it that had been done? Mary had written as though she had been +charged with some childish offence; but Mrs. Thomas talked solemnly +of acquitting her own conscience. What could have happened that had +touched Mrs. Thomas in the conscience?</p> + +<p>But his thoughts soon ran away from the little house at Peckham, and +settled themselves again at Noningsby. Should he hear more of +Madeline's footsteps?—and if not, why should they have been banished +from the corridor? Should he hear her voice again at the door,—and +if not, why should it have been hushed? There is a silence which may +be more eloquent than the sounds which it follows. Had no one in that +house guessed the feelings in his bosom, she would have walked along +the corridor as usual, and spoken a word with her sweet voice in +answer to his word. He felt sure that this would be so no more; but +who had stopped it, and why should such sounds be no more heard?</p> + +<p>At last he did go to sleep, not in pursuance of any plan formed for +doing so; for had he been asked he would have said that sleep was +impossible for him. But he did go to sleep, and when he awoke it was +dark. He had intended to have got up and dressed on that afternoon, +or to have gone through such ceremony of dressing as was possible for +him,—in preparation of his next day's exercise; and now he rose up +in his bed with a start, angry with himself in having allowed the +time to pass by him.</p> + +<p>"Lord love you, Mr. Graham, why how you have slept!" said Mrs. Baker. +"If I haven't just sent your dinner down again to keep hot. Such a +beautiful pheasant, and the bread sauce'll be lumpy now, for all the +world like pap."</p> + +<p>"Never mind the bread sauce, Mrs. Baker;—the pheasant's the thing."</p> + +<p>"And her ladyship's been here, Mr. Graham, only she wouldn't have you +woke. She won't hear of your being moved to-morrow, nor yet won't the +judge. There was a rumpus down stairs when Mr. Augustus as much as +mentioned it. I know one <span class="nowrap">who—"</span></p> + +<p>"You know one who—you were saying?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind.—It ain't one more than another, but it's all. You ain't +to leave this to-morrow, so you may just give it over. And indeed +your things is all at the wash, so you can't;—and now I'll go down +for the pheasant."</p> + +<p>Felix still declared very positively that he should go, but his doing +so did not shake Mrs. Baker. The letter-bag he knew did not leave +till eight, and as yet it was not much past five. He would see +Staveley again after his dinner, and then he would write.</p> + +<p>When Augustus left the room in the middle of the day he encountered +Madeline wandering about the house. In these days she did wander +about the house, as though there were something always to be done in +some place apart from that in which she then was. And yet the things +which she did were but few. She neither worked nor read, and as for +household duties, her share in them was confined almost entirely to +the morning and evening teapot.</p> + +<p>"It isn't true that he's to go to-morrow morning, Augustus, is it?" +said she.</p> + +<p>"Who, Graham? Well; he says that he will. He is very anxious to get +to London; and no doubt he finds it stupid enough lying there and +doing nothing."</p> + +<p>"But he can do as much there as he can lying by himself in his own +chambers, where I don't suppose he would have anybody to look after +him. He thinks he's a trouble and all that, and therefore he wants to +go. But you know mamma doesn't mind about trouble of that kind; and +what should we think of it afterwards if anything bad was to happen +to your friend because we allowed him to leave the house before he +was in a fit state to be moved? Of course Mr. Pottinger says so—" +Mr. Pottinger was the doctor. "Of course Mr. Pottinger says so, +because he thinks he has been so long here, and he doesn't +understand."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Pottinger would like to keep a patient."</p> + +<p>"Oh no; he's not at all that sort of man. He'd think of mamma,—the +trouble I mean of having a stranger in the house. But you know mamma +would think nothing of that, especially for such an intimate friend +of yours."</p> + +<p>Augustus turned slightly round so as to look more fully into his +sister's face, and he saw that a tear was gathered in the corner of +her eye. She perceived his glance and partly shrank under it, but she +soon recovered herself and answered it. "I know what you mean," she +said, "and if you choose to think so, I can't help it. But it is +horrible—<span class="nowrap">horrible—"</span> and +then she stopped herself, finding that a +little sob would become audible if she trusted herself to further +words.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean, Mad?" he said, putting his arm affectionately +round her waist. "And what is it that I mean? Come; you and I never +have any secrets;—you always say so when you want to get at mine. +Tell me what it is that I mean."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got any secret."</p> + +<p>"But what did I mean?"</p> + +<p>"You looked at me, because I don't want you to let them send Mr. +Graham away. If it was old Mr. Furnival I shouldn't like them to turn +him out of this house when he was in such a state as that."</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Furnival; no; I think he would bear it worse than Felix."</p> + +<p>"Then why should he go? And why—should you look at me in that way?"</p> + +<p>"Did I look at you, Mad? Well, I believe I did. We are to have no +secrets; are we?"</p> + +<p>"No," said she. But she did not say it in the same eager voice with +which hitherto she had declared that they would always tell each +other everything.</p> + +<p>"Felix Graham is my friend," said he, "my special friend; and I hope +you will always like my friends. +<span class="nowrap">But—"</span></p> + +<p>"Well?" she said.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean, Mad"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said.</p> + +<p>"That is all, dearest." And then she knew that he also had cautioned +her not to fall in love with Felix Graham, and she felt angry with +him for the caution. +"Why—why—<span class="nowrap">why—?"</span> But she +hardly knew as yet +how to frame the question which she desired to ask herself.</p> + + +<p><a name="c40" id="c40"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4> +<h3>I CALL IT AWFUL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Oh indeed!" Those had been the words with which Mr. Furnival had +received the announcement made by Sir Peregrine as to his proposed +nuptials. And as he uttered them the lawyer drew himself up stiffly +in his chair, looking much more like a lawyer and much less like an +old family friend than he had done the moment before.</p> + +<p>Whereupon Sir Peregrine drew himself up also. "Yes," he said. "I +should be intrusive if I were to trouble you with my motives, and +therefore I need only say further as regards the lady, that I trust +that my support, standing as I shall do in the position of her +husband, will be more serviceable to her than it could otherwise have +been in this trial which she will, I presume, be forced to undergo."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; no doubt," said Mr. Furnival; and then the interview had +ended. The lawyer had been anxious to see his client, and had +intended to ask permission to do so; but he had felt on hearing Sir +Peregrine's tidings that it would be useless now to make any attempt +to see her alone, and that he could speak to her with no freedom in +Sir Peregrine's presence. So he left The Cleeve, having merely +intimated to the baronet the fact of his having engaged the services +of Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Solomon Aram. "You will not see Lady +Mason?" Sir Peregrine had asked. "Thank you; I do not know that I +need trouble her," Mr. Furnival had answered. "You of course will +explain to her how the case at present stands. I fear she must +reconcile herself to the fact of a trial. You are aware, Sir +Peregrine, that the offence imputed is one for which bail will be +taken. I should propose yourself and her son. Of course I should be +happy to lend my own name, but as I shall be on the trial, perhaps it +may be as well that this should be avoided."</p> + +<p>Bail will be taken! These words were dreadful in the ears of the +expectant bridegroom. Had it come to this; that there was a question +whether or no she should be locked up in a prison, like a felon? But +nevertheless his heart did not misgive him. Seeing how terribly she +was injured by others, he felt himself bound by the stronger law to +cling to her himself. Such was the special chivalry of the man.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival on his return to London thought almost more of Sir +Peregrine than he did either of Lady Mason or of himself. Was it not +a pity? Was it not a thousand pities that that aged noble gentleman +should be sacrificed? He had felt angry with Sir Peregrine when the +tidings were first communicated to him; but now, as he journeyed up +to London this feeling of anger was transferred to his own client. +This must be her doing, and such doing on her part, while she was in +her present circumstances, was very wicked. And then he remembered +her guilt,—her probable guilt, and his brow became very black. Her +supposed guilt had not been horrible to him while he had regarded it +as affecting herself alone, and in point of property affecting Joseph +Mason and her son Lucius. He could look forward, sometimes almost +triumphantly, to the idea of washing her—so far as this world's +washing goes—from that guilt, and setting her up again clear before +the world, even though in doing so he should lend a hand in robbing +Joseph Mason of his estate. But this dragging down of another—and +such another—head into the vortex of ruin and misery was horrible to +him. He was not straitlaced, or mealy-mouthed, or overburthened with +scruples. In the way of his profession he could do many a thing at +which—I express a single opinion with much anxious deference—at +which an honest man might be scandalized if it came beneath his +judgment unprofessionally. But this he could not stand. Something +must be done in the matter. The marriage must be stayed till after +the trial,—or else he must himself retire from the defence and +explain both to Lady Mason and to Sir Peregrine why he did so.</p> + +<p>And then he thought of the woman herself, and his spirit within him +became very bitter. Had any one told him that he was jealous of the +preference shown by his client to Sir Peregrine, he would have fumed +with anger, and thought that he was fuming justly. But such was in +truth the case. Though he believed her to have been guilty of this +thing, though he believed her to be now guilty of the worse offence +of dragging the baronet to his ruin, still he was jealous of her +regard. Had she been content to lean upon him, to trust to him as her +great and only necessary friend, he could have forgiven all else, and +placed at her service the full force of his professional power,—even +though by doing so he might have lowered himself in men's minds. And +what reward did he expect? None. He had formed no idea that the woman +would become his mistress. All that was as obscure before his mind's +eye, as though she had been nineteen and he five-and-twenty.</p> + +<p>He was to dine at home on this day, that being the first occasion of +his doing so for—as Mrs. Furnival declared—the last six months. In +truth, however, the interval had been long, though not so long as +that. He had a hope that having announced his intention, he might +find the coast clear and hear Martha Biggs spoken of as a dear one +lately gone. But when he arrived at home Martha Biggs was still +there. Under circumstances as they now existed Mrs. Furnival had +determined to keep Martha Biggs by her, unless any special edict for +her banishment should come forth. Then, in case of such special +edict, Martha Biggs should go, and thence should arise the new casus +belli. Mrs. Furnival had made up her mind that war was +expedient,—nay, absolutely necessary. She had an idea, formed no +doubt from the reading of history, that some allies require a smart +brush now and again to blow away the clouds of distrust which become +engendered by time between them; and that they may become better +allies than ever afterwards. If the appropriate time for such a brush +might ever come, it had come now. All the world,—so she said to +herself,—was talking of Mr. Furnival and Lady Mason. All the world +knew of her injuries.</p> + +<p>Martha Biggs was second cousin to Mr. Crook's brother's wife—I speak +of that Mr. Crook who had been professionally known for the last +thirty years as the partner of Mr. Round. It had been whispered in +the office in Bedford Row—such whisper I fear originating with old +Round—that Mr. Furnival admired his fair client. Hence light had +fallen upon the eyes of Martha Biggs, and the secret of her friend +was known to her. Need I trace the course of the tale with closer +accuracy?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kitty," she had said to her friend with tears that evening—"I +cannot bear to keep it to myself any more! I cannot when I see you +suffering so. It's awful."</p> + +<p>"Cannot bear to keep what, Martha?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know. Indeed all the town knows it now."</p> + +<p>"Knows what? You know how I hate that kind of thing. If you have +anything to say, speak out."</p> + +<p>This was not kind to such a faithful friend as Martha Biggs; but +Martha knew what sacrifices friendship such as hers demanded, and she +did not resent it.</p> + +<p>"Well then;—if I am to speak out, it's—Lady Mason. And I do say +that it's shameful, quite shameful;—and awful; I call it awful."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival had not said much at the time to encourage the fidelity +of her friend, but she was thus justified in declaring to herself +that her husband's goings on had become the talk of all the +world;—and his goings on especially in that quarter in which she had +long regarded them with so much dismay. She was not therefore +prepared to welcome him on this occasion of his coming home to dinner +by such tokens of friendly feeling as the dismissal of her friend to +Red Lion Square. When the moment for absolute war should come Martha +Biggs should be made to depart.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival when he arrived at his own house was in a thoughtful +mood, and disposed for quiet and domestic meditation. Had Miss Biggs +not been there he could have found it in his heart to tell everything +about Lady Mason to his wife, asking her counsel as to what he should +do with reference to that marriage. Could he have done so, all would +have been well; but this was not possible while that red-faced lump +of a woman from Red Lion Square sat in his drawing-room, making +everything uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>The three sat down to dinner together, and very little was said +between them. Mr. Furnival did try to be civil to his wife, but wives +sometimes have a mode of declining such civilities without committing +themselves to overt acts of war. To Miss Biggs Mr. Furnival could not +bring himself to say anything civil, seeing that he hated her; but +such words as he did speak to her she received with grim griffin-like +austerity, as though she were ever meditating on the awfulness of his +conduct. And so in truth she was. Why his conduct was more awful in +her estimation since she had heard Lady Mason's name mentioned, than +when her mind had been simply filled with general ideas of vague +conjugal infidelity, I cannot say; but such was the case. "I call it +awful," were the first words she again spoke when she found herself +once more alone with Mrs. Furnival in the drawing-room. And then she +sat down over the fire, thinking neither of her novel nor her +knitting, with her mind deliciously filled with the anticipation of +coming catastrophes.</p> + +<p>"If I sit up after half-past ten would you mind going to bed?" said +Mrs. Furnival, when they had been in the drawing-room about ten +minutes.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not in the least," said Miss Biggs. "I'll be sure to go." But +she thought it very unkind, and she felt as a child does who is +deceived in a matter of being taken to the play. If no one goes the +child can bear it. But to see others go, and to be left behind, is +too much for the feelings of any child,—or of Martha Biggs.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival had no inclination for sitting alone over his wine on +this occasion. Had it been possible for him he would have preferred +to have gone quickly up stairs, and to have taken his cup of coffee +from his wife's hand with some appreciation of domestic comfort. But +there could be no such comfort to him while Martha Biggs was there, +so he sat down stairs, sipping his port according to his custom, and +looking into the fire for a solution of his difficulties about Lady +Mason. He began to wish that he had never seen Lady Mason, and to +reflect that the intimate friendship of pretty women often brings +with it much trouble. He was resolved on one thing. He would not go +down into court and fight that battle for Lady Orme. Were he to do so +the matter would have taken quite a different phase,—one that he had +not at all anticipated. In case that his present client should then +have become Lady Orme, Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Solomon Aram might +carry on the battle between them, with such assistance as they might +be able to get from Messrs. Slow and Bideawhile. He became angry as +he drank his port, and in his anger he swore that it should be so. +And then as his anger became hot at the close of his libations, he +remembered that Martha Biggs was up stairs, and became more angry +still. And thus when he did go into the drawing-room at some time in +the evening not much before ten, he was not in a frame of mind likely +to bring about domestic comfort.</p> + +<p>He walked across the drawing-room, sat down in an arm-chair by the +table, and took up the last number of a review, without speaking to +either of them. Whereupon Mrs. Furnival began to ply her needle which +had been lying idly enough upon her work, and Martha Biggs fixed her +eyes intently upon her book. So they sat twenty minutes without a +word being spoken, and then Mrs. Furnival inquired of her lord +whether he chose to have tea.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall,—when you have it," said he.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind us," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Pray don't mind me," said Martha Biggs. "Don't let me be in the +way."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't," said Mr. Furnival. Whereupon Miss Biggs again jumped +up in her chair as though she had been electrified. It may be +remembered that on a former occasion Mr. Furnival had sworn at +her—or at least in her presence.</p> + +<p>"You need not be rude to a lady in your own house, because she is my +friend," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Bother," said Mr. Furnival. "And now if we are going to have any +tea, let us have it."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'll mind about tea to-night, Mrs. Furnival," said +Miss Biggs, having received a notice from her friend's eye that it +might be well for her to depart. "My head aches dreadful, and I shall +be better in bed. Good-night, Mrs. Furnival." And then she took her +candle and went away.</p> + +<p>For the next five minutes there was not a word said. No tea had been +ordered, although it had been mentioned. Mrs. Furnival had forgotten +it among the hot thoughts that were running through her mind, and Mr. +Furnival was indifferent upon the subject. He knew that something was +coming, and he resolved that he would have the upper hand let that +something be what it might. He was being ill used,—so he said to +himself—and would not put up with it.</p> + +<p>At last the battle began. He was not looking, but he heard her first +movement as she prepared herself. "Tom!" she said, and then the voice +of the war goddess was again silent. He did not choose to answer her +at the instant, and then the war goddess rose from her seat and again +spoke. "Tom!" she said, standing over him and looking at him.</p> + +<p>"What is it you mean?" said he, allowing his eyes to rise to her face +over the top of his book.</p> + +<p>"Tom!" she said for the third time.</p> + +<p>"I'll have no nonsense, Kitty," said he. "If you have anything to +say, say it."</p> + +<p>Even then she had intended to be affectionate,—had so intended at +the first commencement of her address. She had no wish to be a war +goddess. But he had assisted her attempt at love by no gentle word, +by no gentle look, by no gentle motion. "I have this to say," she +replied; "you are disgracing both yourself and me, and I will not +remain in this house to be a witness to it."</p> + +<p>"Then you may go out of the house." These words, be it remembered, +were uttered not by the man himself, but by the spirit of port wine +within the man.</p> + +<p>"Tom, do you say that;—after all?"</p> + +<p>"By heavens I do say it! I'll not be told in my own drawing-room, +even by you, that I am disgracing myself."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you go after that woman down to Hamworth? All the world +is talking of you. At your age too! You ought to be ashamed of +yourself."</p> + +<p>"I can't stand this," said he, getting up and throwing the book from +him right across the drawing-room floor; "and, by heavens! I won't +stand it."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you do it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Kitty, I believe the devil must have entered into you to drive you +mad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh, oh! very well, sir. The devil in the shape of drink and lust +has entered into you. But you may understand this; +I—will—not—consent to live with you while such deeds as these are +being done." And then without waiting for another word, she stormed +out of the room.</p> + + +<p><a name="c41" id="c41"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>VOLUME II.</h3> +<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4> +<h3>HOW CAN I SAVE HIM?<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"I will not consent to live with you while such deeds as these are +being done." Such were the last words which Mrs. Furnival spoke as +she walked out of her own drawing-room, leaving her husband still +seated in his arm-chair.</p> + +<p>What was he to do? Those who would hang by the letter of the law in +such matters may say that he should have rung the bell, sent for his +wife, explained to her that obedience was a necessary duty on her +part, and have finished by making her understand that she must and +would continue to live wherever he chose that she should live. There +be those who say that if a man be anything of a man, he can always +insure obedience in his own household. He has the power of the purse +and the power of the law; and if, having these, he goes to the wall, +it must be because he is a poor creature. Those who so say have +probably never tried the position.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival did not wish to send for his wife, because by doing so +he would have laid bare his sore before his servants. He could not +follow her, because he knew that he should not find her alone in her +room. Nor did he wish for any further parley, because he knew that +she would speak loud, and probably sob—nay, very possibly proceed to +a fainting fit. And, moreover, he much doubted whether he would have +the power to keep her in the house if it should be her pleasure to +leave it. And then what should he do? The doing of something in such +a catastrophe was, he thought, indispensable.</p> + +<p>Was ever a man so ill treated? Was ever jealousy so groundless? Here +was a woman, with whom he was on the point of quarrelling, who was +engaged to be married to another man, whom for months past he had +only seen as a client; and on her account he was to be told by his +wife that she would not consent to live with him! Yes; it was quite +indispensable that he should do something.</p> + +<p>At last he went to bed, and slept upon it; not sharing the marital +couch, but occupying his own dressing-room. In the morning, however, +as he sat down to his solitary breakfast, he was as far as ever from +having made up his mind what that something should be. A message was +brought to him by an elderly female servant with a grave face,—the +elderly servant who had lived with them since their poorer +days,—saying that "Missus would not come down to breakfast this +morning." There was no love sent, no excuse as to illness, no +semblance of a peaceable reason, assumed even to deceive the servant. +It was clear to Mr. Furnival that the servant was intended to know +all about it. "And Miss Biggs says, sir, that if you please you're +not to wait for her."</p> + +<p>"Very well, that'll do," said Mr. Furnival, who had not the slightest +intention of waiting for Miss Biggs; and then he sat himself down to +eat his bacon, and bethink himself what step he would take with this +recreant and troublesome spouse.</p> + +<p>While he was thus employed the post came. The bulk of his letters as +a matter of course went to his chambers; but there were those among +his correspondents who wrote to him at Harley Street. To-day he +received three or four letters, but our concern will be with one +only. This one bore the Hamworth post-mark, and he opened it the +first, knowing that it came from Lady Mason. It was as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="u">Private</span></p> + +<p class="jright"><span class="smallcaps">The Cleeve</span>, +23rd January, 18—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Mr. Furnival</span>,</p> + +<p>I am so very sorry that I did not see you to-day! Indeed, +your leaving without seeing me has made me unhappy, for I +cannot but think that it shows that you are displeased. +Under these circumstances I must write to you and explain +to you how that came to pass which Sir Peregrine told you. +I have not let him know that I am writing to you, and I +think for his sake that I had better not. But he is so +good, and has shown to me such nobleness and affection, +that I can hardly bring myself to have any secret from +him.</p> + +<p>You may conceive what was my surprise when I first +understood that he wished to make me his wife. It is +hardly six months since I thought that I was almost +exceeding my station in visiting at his house. Then by +degrees I began to be received as a friend, and at last I +found myself treated with the warmest love. But still I +had no thought of this, and I knew that it was because of +my great trouble that Sir Peregrine and Mrs. Orme were so +good to me.</p> + +<p>When he sent for me into his library and told me what he +wished, I could not refuse him anything. I promised +obedience to him as though I were a child; and in this way +I found myself engaged to be his wife. When he told me +that he would have it so, how could I refuse him, knowing +as I do all that he has done for me, and thinking of it as +I do every minute? As for loving him, of course I love +him. Who that knows him does not love him? He is made to +be loved. No one is so good and so noble as he. But of +love of that sort I had never dreamed. Ah me, no!—a woman +burdened as I am does not think of love.</p> + +<p>He told me that he would have it so, and I said that I +would obey him; and he tried to prove to me that in this +dreadful trial it would be better for me. But I would not +wish it on that account. He has done enough for me without +my causing him such injury. When I argued it with him, +trying to say that others would not like it, he declared +that Mrs. Orme would be well pleased, and, indeed, so she +told me afterwards herself. And thus I yielded to him, and +agreed that I would be his wife. But I was not happy, +thinking that I should injure him; and I promised only +because I could not deny him.</p> + +<p>But the day before yesterday young Mr. Orme, his grandson, +came to me and told me that such a marriage would be very +wrong. And I do believe him. He said that old family +friends would look down upon his grandfather and ridicule +him if he were to make this marriage. And I can see that +it would be so. I would not have such injury come upon him +for the gain of all the world to myself. So I have made up +my mind to tell him that it cannot be, even though I +should anger him. And I fear that it will anger him, for +he loves to have his own way,—especially in doing good; +and he thinks that our marriage would rescue me altogether +from the danger of this trial.</p> + +<p>So I have made up my mind to tell him, but I have not +found courage to do it yet; and I do wish, dear Mr. +Furnival, that I might see you first. I fear that I may +have lost your friendship by what has already been done. +If so, what will become of me? When I heard that you had +gone without asking for me, my heart sank within me. I +have two friends whom I so dearly love, and I would fain +do as both direct me, if that may be possible. And now I +propose to go up to London to-morrow, and to be at your +chambers about one o'clock. I have told Sir Peregrine and +Mrs. Orme that I am going; but he is too noble-minded to +ask questions now that he thinks I may feel myself +constrained to tell him. So I will call in Lincoln's Inn +at one o'clock, and I trust that if possible you will see +me. I am greatly in want of your advice, for in truth I +hardly know what to do.</p> + +<p class="ind4">Pray believe me to be always your attached friend,</p> + +<p class="ind14"><span class="smallcaps">Mary +Mason</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>There was hardly a word,—I believe not a word in that letter that +was not true. Her acceptance of Sir Peregrine had been given exactly +in the manner and for the reasons there explained; and since she had +accepted him she had been sorry for having done so, exactly in the +way now described. She was quite willing to give up her husband if it +was thought best,—but she was not willing to give up her friend. She +was not willing to give up either friend, and her great anxiety was +so to turn her conduct that she might keep them both.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival was gratified as he read the letter—gratified in spite +of his present frame of mind. Of course he would see her;—and of +course, as he himself well knew, would take her again into favour. +But he must insist on her carrying out her purpose of abandoning the +marriage project. If, arising from this abandonment, there should be +any coolness on the part of Sir Peregrine, Mr. Furnival would not +regret it. Mr. Furnival did not feel quite sure whether in the +conduct of this case he was not somewhat hampered by the—energetic +zeal of Sir Peregrine's line of defence.</p> + +<p>When he had finished the perusal of his letter and the consideration +which it required, he put it carefully into his breast coat pocket, +envelope and all. What might not happen if he left that envelope +about in that house? And then he took it out again, and observed upon +the cover the Hamworth post-mark, very clear. Post-marks now-a-days +are very clear, and everybody may know whence a letter comes. His +letters had been brought to him by the butler; but was it not +probable that that ancient female servant might have seen them first, +and have conveyed to her mistress intelligence as to this post-mark? +If so—; and Mr. Furnival almost felt himself to be guilty as he +thought of it.</p> + +<p>While he was putting on his greatcoat in the hall, the butler +assisting him, the ancient female servant came to him again. There +was a look about her face which told of war, and declared her to be, +if not the chief lieutenant of his wife, at any rate her +colour-serjeant. Martha Biggs no doubt was chief lieutenant. "Missus +desires me to ask," said she, with her grim face and austere voice, +"whether you will be pleased to dine at home to-day?" And yet the +grim, austere woman could be affectionate and almost motherly in her +ministrations to him when things were going well, and had eaten his +salt and broken his bread for more than twenty years. All this was +very hard! "Because," continued the woman, "missus says she thinks +she shall be out this evening herself."</p> + +<p>"Where is she going?"</p> + +<p>"Missus didn't tell me, sir."</p> + +<p>He almost determined to go up stairs and call upon her to tell him +what she was going to do, but he remembered that if he did it would +surely make a row in the house. Miss Biggs would put her head out of +some adjacent door and scream, "Oh laws!" and he would have to +descend his own stairs with the consciousness that all his household +were regarding him as a brute. So he gave up that project. "No," he +said, "I shall not dine at home;" and then he went his way.</p> + +<p>"Missus is very aggravating," said the butler, as soon as the door +was closed.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what cause she has, Spooner," said the housekeeper +very solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Is it at his age? I believe it's all nonsense, I do;—feminine +fancies, and vagaries of the weaker sex."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say; that's what you men always say. But if he don't +look out he'll find missus'll be too much for him. What'd he do if +she were to go away from him?"</p> + +<p>"Do?—why live twice as jolly. It would only be the first rumpus of +the thing."</p> + +<p>I am afraid that there was some truth in what Spooner said. It is the +first rumpus of the thing, or rather the fear of that, which keeps +together many a couple.</p> + +<p>At one o'clock there came a timid female rap at Mr. Furnival's +chamber door, and the juvenile clerk gave admittance to Lady Mason. +Crabwitz, since the affair of that mission down at Hamworth, had so +far carried a point of his, that a junior satellite was now +permanently installed; and for the future the indignity of opening +doors, and "just stepping out" into Chancery Lane, would not await +him. Lady Mason was dressed all in black,—but this was usual with +her when she left home. To-day, however, there was about her +something blacker and more sombre than usual. The veil which she wore +was thick, and completely hid her face; and her voice, as she asked +for Mr. Furnival, was low and plaintive. But, nevertheless, she had +by no means laid aside the charm of womanhood; or it might be more +just to say that the charm of womanhood had not laid aside her. There +was that in her figure, step, and gait of going which compelled men +to turn round and look at her. We all know that she had a son some +two or three and twenty years of age, and that she had not been quite +a girl when she married. But, notwithstanding this, she was yet +young; and though she made no effort—no apparent effort—to maintain +the power and influence which beauty gives, yet she did maintain it.</p> + +<p>He came forward and took her by the hand with all his old +affectionate regard, and, muttering some words of ordinary +salutation, led her to a chair. It may be that she muttered something +also, but if so the sound was too low to reach his ears. She sat down +where he placed her, and as she put her hand on the table near her +arm, he saw that she was trembling.</p> + +<p>"I got your letter this morning," he said, by way of beginning the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said; and then, finding that it was not possible that he +should hear her through her veil, she raised it. She was very pale, +and there was a look of painful care, almost of agony, round her +mouth. He had never seen her look so pale,—but he said to himself at +the same time that he had never seen her look so beautiful.</p> + +<p>"And to tell you the truth, Lady Mason, I was very glad to get it. +You and I had better speak openly to each other about this;—had we +not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she said. And then there was a struggle within her not to +tremble—a struggle that was only too evident. She was aware of this, +and took her hand off the table.</p> + +<p>"I vexed you because I did not see you at The Cleeve the other day."</p> + +<p>"Because I thought that you were angry with me."</p> + +<p>"And I was so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Furnival!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Lady Mason. I was angry;—or rather sorry and vexed +to hear of that which I did not approve. But your letter has removed +that feeling. I can now understand the manner in which this +engagement was forced upon you; and I understand also—do I +not?—that the engagement will not be carried out?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer him immediately, and he began to fear that she +repented of her purpose. "Because," said he, "under no other +circumstances <span class="nowrap">could I—"</span></p> + +<p>"Stop, Mr. Furnival. Pray do not be severe with me." And she looked +at him with eyes which would almost have melted his wife,—and which +he was quite unable to withstand. Had it been her wish, she might +have made him promise to stand by her, even though she had persisted +in her engagement.</p> + +<p>"No, no; I will not be severe."</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to marry him," she went on to say. "I have resolved to +tell him so. That was what I said in my letter."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to marry him. I would not bring his gray hairs with +sorrow to the grave—no, not to save myself +<span class="nowrap">from—"</span> And then, as she +thought of that from which she desired to save herself, she trembled +again, and was silent.</p> + +<p>"It would create in men's minds such a strong impression against you, +were you to marry him at this moment!"</p> + +<p>"It is of him I am thinking;—of him and Lucius. Mr. Furnival, they +might do their worst with me, if it were not for that thought. My +boy!" And then she rose from her chair, and stood upright before him, +as though she were going to do or say some terrible thing. He still +kept his chair, for he was startled, and hardly knew what he would be +about. That last exclamation had come from her almost with a shriek, +and now her bosom was heaving as though her heart would burst with +the violence of her sobbing. "I will go," she said. "I had better +go." And she hurried away towards the door.</p> + +<p>"No, no; do not go yet." And he rose to stop her, but she was quite +passive. "I do not know why you should be so much moved now." But he +did know. He did understand the very essence and core of her +feelings;—as probably may the reader also. But it was impossible +that he should allow her to leave him in her present state.</p> + +<p>She sat down again, and leaning both her arms upon the table, hid her +face within her hands. He was now standing, and for the moment did +not speak to her. Indeed he could not bring himself to break the +silence, for he saw her tears, and could still hear the violence of +her sobs. And then she was the first to speak. "If it were not for +him," she said, raising her head, "I could bear it all. What will he +do? what will he do?"</p> + +<p>"You mean," said Mr. Furnival, speaking very slowly, "if +the—verdict—should go against us."</p> + +<p>"It will go against us," she said. "Will it not?—tell me the truth. +You are so clever, you must know. Tell me how it will go. Is there +anything I can do to save him?" And she took hold of his arm with +both her hands, and looked up eagerly—oh, with such terrible +eagerness!—into his face.</p> + +<p>Would it not have been natural now that he should have asked her to +tell him the truth? And yet he did not dare to ask her. He thought +that he knew it. He felt sure,—almost sure, that he could look into +her very heart, and read there the whole of her secret. But still +there was a doubt,—enough of doubt to make him wish to ask the +question. Nevertheless he did not ask it.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival," she said; and as she spoke there was a hardness came +over the soft lines of her feminine face; a look of courage which +amounted almost to ferocity, a look which at the moment recalled to +his mind, as though it were but yesterday, the attitude and +countenance she had borne as she stood in the witness-box at that +other trial, now so many years since,—that attitude and countenance +which had impressed the whole court with so high an idea of her +courage. "Mr. Furnival, weak as I am, I could bear to die here on the +spot,—now—if I could only save him from this agony. It is not for +myself I suffer." And then the terrible idea occurred to him that she +might attempt to compass her escape by death. But he did not know +her. That would have been no escape for her son.</p> + +<p>"And you too think that I must not marry him?" she said, putting up +her hands to her brows as though to collect her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"No; certainly not, Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"No, no. It would be wrong. But, Mr. Furnival, I am so driven that I +know not how I should act. What if I should lose my mind?" And as she +looked at him there was that about her eyes which did tell him that +such an ending might be possible.</p> + +<p>"Do not speak in such a way," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, I will not. I know that it is wrong. I will go down there, and +tell him that it must not—must not be so. But I may stay at The +Cleeve;—may I not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly—if he wishes it,—after your understanding with him."</p> + +<p>"Ah; he may turn me out, may he not? And they are so kind to me, so +gentle and so good. And Lucius is so stern. But I will go back. +Sternness will perhaps be better for me now than love and kindness."</p> + +<p>In spite of everything, in the teeth of his almost certain conviction +of her guilt, he would now, even now, have asked her to come to his +own house, and have begged her to remain there till the trial was +over,—if only he had had the power to do so. What would it be to him +what the world might say, if she should be proved guilty? Why should +not he have been mistaken as well as others? And he had an idea that +if he could get her into his own hands he might still bring her +through triumphantly,—with assistance from Solomon Aram and +Chaffanbrass. He was strongly convinced of her guilt, but by no means +strongly convinced that her guilt could be proved. But then he had no +house at the present moment that he could call his own. His Kitty, +the Kitty of whom he still sometimes thought with affection,—that +Kitty whose soft motherly heart would have melted at such a story of +a woman's sorrows, if only it had been rightly approached,—that +Kitty was now vehemently hostile, hostile both to him and to this +very woman for whom he would have asked her care.</p> + +<p>"May God help me!" said the poor woman. "I do not know where else to +turn for aid. Well; I may go now then. And, indeed, why should I take +up your time further?"</p> + +<p>But before she did go, Mr. Furnival gave her much counsel. He did not +ask as to her guilt, but he did give her that advice which he would +have thought most expedient had her guilt been declared and owned. He +told her that very much would depend on her maintaining her present +position and standing; that she was so to carry herself as not to let +people think that she was doubtful about the trial; and that above +all things she was to maintain a composed and steadfast manner before +her son. As to the Ormes, he bade her not to think of leaving The +Cleeve, unless she found that her remaining there would be +disagreeable to Sir Peregrine after her explanation with him. That +she was to decline the marriage engagement, he was very positive; on +that subject there was to be no doubt.</p> + +<p>And then she went; and as she passed down the dark passage into the +new square by the old gate of the Chancellor's court, she met a stout +lady. The stout lady eyed her savagely, but was not quite sure as to +her identity. Lady Mason in her trouble passed the stout lady without +taking any notice of her.</p> + + +<p><a name="c42" id="c42"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4> +<h3>JOHN KENNEBY GOES TO HAMWORTH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When John Kenneby dined with his sister and brother-in-law on +Christmas-day he agreed, at the joint advice of the whole party there +assembled, that he would go down and see Mr. Dockwrath at Hamworth, +in accordance with the invitation received from that gentleman;—his +enemy, Dockwrath, who had carried off Miriam Usbech, for whom John +Kenneby still sighed,—in a gentle easy manner indeed,—but still +sighed as though it were an affair but of yesterday. But though he +had so agreed, and though he had never stirred from that resolve, he +by no means did it immediately. He was a slow man, whose life had +offered him but little excitement; and the little which came to him +was husbanded well and made to go a long way. He thought about this +journey for nearly a month before he took it, often going to his +sister and discussing it with her, and once or twice seeing the great +Moulder himself. At last he fixed a day and did go down to Hamworth.</p> + +<p>He had, moreover, been invited to the offices of Messrs. Round and +Crook, and that visit also was as yet unpaid. A clerk from the house +in Bedford Row had found him out at Hubbles and Grease's, and had +discovered that he would be forthcoming as a witness. On the special +subject of his evidence not much had then passed, the clerk having +had no discretion given him to sift the matter. But Kenneby had +promised to go to Bedford Row, merely stipulating for a day at some +little distance of time. That day was now near at hand; but he was to +see Dockwrath first, and hence it occurred that he now made his +journey to Hamworth.</p> + +<p>But another member of that Christmas party at Great St. Helen's had +not been so slow in carrying out his little project. Mr. Kantwise had +at once made up his mind that it would be as well that he should see +Dockwrath. It would not suit him to incur the expense of a journey to +Hamworth, even with the additional view of extracting payment for +that set of metallic furniture; but he wrote to the attorney telling +him that he should be in London in the way of trade on such and such +a day, and that he had tidings of importance to give with reference +to the great Orley Farm case. Dockwrath did see him, and the result +was that Mr. Kantwise got his money, fourteen eleven;—at least he +got fourteen seven six, and had a very hard fight for the three odd +half-crowns,—and Dockwrath learned that John Kenneby, if duly used, +would give evidence on his side of the question.</p> + +<p>And then Kenneby did go down to Hamworth. He had not seen Miriam +Usbech since the days of her marriage. He had remained hanging about +the neighbourhood long enough to feast his eyes with the agony of +looking at the bride, and then he had torn himself away. +Circumstances since that had carried him one way and Miriam another, +and they had never met. Time had changed him very little, and what +change time had made was perhaps for the better. He hesitated less +when he spoke, he was less straggling and undecided in his +appearance, and had about him more of manhood than in former days. +But poor Miriam had certainly not been altered for the better by +years and circumstances as far as outward appearance went.</p> + +<p>Kenneby as he walked up from the station to the house,—and from old +remembrances he knew well where the house stood,—gave up his mind +entirely to the thought of seeing Miriam, and in his memories of old +love passages almost forgot the actual business which now brought him +to the place. To him it seemed as though he was going to meet the +same Miriam he had left,—the Miriam to whom in former days he had +hardly ventured to speak of love, and to whom he must not now venture +so to speak at all. He almost blushed as he remembered that he would +have to take her hand.</p> + +<p>There are men of this sort, men slow in their thoughts but very keen +in their memories; men who will look for the glance of a certain +bright eye from a window-pane, though years have rolled on since last +they saw it,—since last they passed that window. Such men will +bethink themselves, after an interval of weeks, how they might have +brought up wit to their use and improved an occasion which chance had +given them. But when the bright eyes do glance, such men pass by +abashed; and when the occasion offers, their wit is never at hand. +Nevertheless they are not the least happy of mankind, these +never-readies; they do not pick up sudden prizes, but they hold fast +by such good things as the ordinary run of life bestows upon them. +There was a lady even now, a friend of Mrs. Moulder, ready to bestow +herself and her fortune on John Kenneby,—a larger fortune than +Miriam had possessed, and one which would not now probably be +neutralised by so large a family as poor Miriam had bestowed upon her +husband.</p> + +<p>How would Miriam meet him? It was of this he thought, as he +approached the door. Of course he must call her Mrs. Dockwrath, +though the other name was so often on his tongue. He had made up his +mind, for the last week past, that he would call at the private door +of the house, passing by the door of the office. Otherwise the +chances were that he would not see Miriam at all. His enemy, +Dockwrath, would be sure to keep him from her presence. Dockwrath had +ever been inordinately jealous. But when he came to the office-door +he hardly had the courage to pass on to that of the private dwelling. +His heart beat too quickly, and the idea of seeing Miriam was almost +too much for him. But, nevertheless, he did carry out his plan, and +did knock at the door of the house.</p> + +<p>And it was opened by Miriam herself. He knew her instantly in spite +of all the change. He knew her, but the whole course of his feelings +were altered at the moment, and his blood was made to run the other +way. And she knew him too. "La, John," she said, "who'd have thought +of seeing you?" And she shifted the baby whom she carried from one +arm to the other as she gave him her hand in token of welcome.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill42" id="ill42"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill42.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill42-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="John Kenneby and Miriam Dockwrath." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">John Kenneby and Miriam Dockwrath.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill42.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"It is a long time since we met," he said. He felt hardly any +temptation now to call her Miriam. Indeed it would have seemed +altogether in opposition to the common order of things to do so. She +was no longer Miriam, but the maternal Dockwrath;—the mother of that +long string of dirty children whom he saw gathered in the passage +behind her. He had known as a fact that she had all the children, but +the fact had not made the proper impression on his mind till he had +seen them.</p> + +<p>"A long time! 'Deed then it is. Why we've hardly seen each other +since you used to be a courting of me; have we? But, my! John; why +haven't you got a wife for yourself these many years? But come in. +I'm glad to see every bit of you, so I am; though I've hardly a place +to put you to sit down in." And then she opened a door and took him +into a little sitting-room on the left-hand side of the passage.</p> + +<p>His feeling of intense enmity to Dockwrath was beginning to wear +away, and one of modified friendship for the whole family was +supervening. It was much better that it should be so. He could not +understand before how Dockwrath had had the heart to write to him and +call him John, but now he did understand it. He felt that he could +himself be friendly with Dockwrath now, and forgive him all the +injury; he felt also that it would not go so much against the grain +with him to marry that friend as to whom his sister would so often +solicit him.</p> + +<p>"I think you may venture to sit down upon them," said Miriam, "though +I can't say that I have ever tried myself." This speech referred to +the chairs with which her room was supplied, and which Kenneby seemed +to regard with suspicion.</p> + +<p>"They are very nice I'm sure," said he, "but I don't think I ever saw +any like them."</p> + +<p>"Nor nobody else either. But don't you tell him so," and she nodded +with her head to the side of the house on which the office stood. "I +had as nice a set of mahoganys as ever a woman could want, and bought +with my own money too, John; but he's took them away to furnish some +of his lodgings opposite, and put them things here in their place. +Don't, Sam; you'll have 'em all twisted about nohows in no time if +you go to use 'em in that way."</p> + +<p>"I wants to see the pictur' on the table," said Sam.</p> + +<p>"Drat the picture," said Mrs. Dockwrath. "It was hard, wasn't it, +John, to see my own mahoganys, as I had rubbed with my own hands till +they was ever so bright, and as was bought with my own money too, +took away and them things brought here? Sam, if you twist that round +any more, I'll box your ears. One can't hear oneself speak with the +noise."</p> + +<p>"They don't seem to be very useful," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Useful! They're got up for cheatery;—that's what they're got up +for. And that Dockwrath should be took in with 'em—he that's so +sharp at everything,—that's what surprises me. But laws, John, it +isn't the sharp ones that gets the best off. You was never sharp, but +you're as smirk and smooth as though you came out of a band-box. I am +glad to see you, John, so I am." And she put her apron up to her eyes +and wiped away a tear.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Dockwrath at home?" said John.</p> + +<p>"Sam, run round and see if your father's in the office. He'll be home +to dinner, I know. Molly, do be quiet with your sister. I never see +such a girl as you are for bothering. You didn't come down about +business, did you, John?" And then Kenneby explained to her that he +had been summoned by Dockwrath as to the matter of this Orley Farm +trial. While he was doing so, Sam returned to say that his father had +stepped out, but would be back in half an hour, and Mrs. Dockwrath, +finding it impossible to make use of her company sitting-room, took +her old lover into the family apartment which they all ordinarily +occupied.</p> + +<p>"You can sit down there at any rate without it all crunching under +you, up to nothing." And she emptied for him as she spoke the seat of +an old well-worn horse-hair bottomed arm-chair. "As to them tin +things I wouldn't trust myself on one of them; and so I told him, +angry as it made him. But now about poor Lady +<span class="nowrap">Mason—.</span> Sam and Molly, +you go into the garden, there's good children. They is so ready with +their ears, John; and he contrives to get everything out of 'em. Now +do tell me about this."</p> + +<p>Kenneby could not help thinking that the love match between Miriam +and her husband had not turned out in all respects well, and I fear +that he derived from the thought a certain feeling of consolation. +"He" was spoken about in a manner that did not betoken unfailing love +and perfect confidence. Perhaps Miriam was at this moment thinking +that she might have done better with her youth and her money! She was +thinking of nothing of the kind. Her mind was one that dwelt on the +present, not on the past. She was unhappy about her furniture, +unhappy about the frocks of those four younger children, unhappy that +the loaves of bread went faster and faster every day, very unhappy +now at the savageness with which her husband prosecuted his anger +against Lady Mason. But it did not occur to her to be unhappy because +she had not become Mrs. Kenneby.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dockwrath had more to tell in the matter than had Kenneby, and +when the elder of the children who were at home had been disposed of +she was not slow to tell it. "Isn't it dreadful, John, to think that +they should come against her now, and the will all settled as it was +twenty year ago? But you won't say anything against her; will you +now, John? She was always a good friend to you; wasn't she? Though it +wasn't much use; was it?" It was thus that she referred to the +business before them, and to the love passages of her early youth at +the same time.</p> + +<p>"It's a very dreadful affair," said Kenneby, very solemnly; "and the +more I think of it the more dreadful it becomes."</p> + +<p>"But you won't say anything against her, will you? You won't go over +to his side; eh, John?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about sides," said he.</p> + +<p>"He'll get himself into trouble with it; I know he will. I do so wish +you'd tell him, for he can't hurt you if you stand up to him. If I +speak,—Lord bless you, I don't dare to call my soul my own for a +week afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Is he so very—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dreadful, John. He's bid me never speak a word to her. But for +all that I used till she went away down to The Cleeve yonder. And +what do you think they say now? And I do believe it too. They say +that Sir Peregrine is going to make her his lady. If he does that it +stands to reason that Dockwrath and Joseph Mason will get the worst +of it. I'm sure I hope they will; only he'll be twice as hard if he +don't make money by it in some way."</p> + +<p>"Will he, now?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed he will. You never knew anything like him for hardness if +things go wrong awhile. I know he's got lots of money, because he's +always buying up bits of houses; besides, what has he done with mine? +but yet sometimes you'd hardly think he'd let me have bread enough +for the children—and as for +<span class="nowrap">clothes—!"</span> Poor Miriam! It seemed that +her husband shared with her but few of the spoils or triumphs of his +profession.</p> + +<p>Tidings now came in from the office that Dockwrath was there. "You'll +come round and eat a bit of dinner with us?" said she, hesitatingly. +He felt that she hesitated, and hesitated himself in his reply. "He +must say something in the way of asking you, you know, and then say +you'll come. His manner's nothing to you, you know. Do now. It does +me good to look at you, John; it does indeed." And then, without +making any promise, he left her and went round to the office.</p> + +<p>Kenneby had made up his mind, talking over the matter with Moulder +and his sister, that he would be very reserved in any communication +which he might make to Dockwrath as to his possible evidence at the +coming trial; but nevertheless when Dockwrath had got him into his +office, the attorney made him give a succinct account of everything +he knew, taking down his deposition in a regular manner. "And now if +you'll just sign that," Dockwrath said to him when he had done.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about signing," said Kenneby. "A man should never write +his own name unless he knows why."</p> + +<p>"You must sign your own deposition;" and the attorney frowned at him +and looked savage. "What would a judge say to you in court if you had +made such a statement as this, affecting the character of a woman +like Lady Mason, and then had refused to sign it? You'd never be able +to hold up your head again."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't I?" said Kenneby gloomily; and he did sign it. This was a +great triumph to Dockwrath. Mat Round had succeeded in getting the +deposition of Bridget Bolster, but he had got that of John Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Dockwrath, "I'll tell you what we'll do;—we'll go to +the Blue Posts—you remember the Blue Posts?—and I'll stand a beef +steak and a glass of brandy and water. I suppose you'll go back to +London by the 3 <span class="smallcaps">p.m.</span> +train. We shall have lots of time."</p> + +<p>Kenneby said that he should go back by the 3 +<span class="smallcaps">p.m.</span> train, but he +declined, with considerable hesitation, the beefsteak and brandy and +water. After what had passed between him and Miriam he could not go +to the Blue Posts with her husband.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, man," said Dockwrath. "You must dine somewhere."</p> + +<p>But Kenneby said that he should dine in London. He always preferred +dining late. Besides, it was a long time since he had been at +Hamworth, and he was desirous of taking a walk that he might renew +his associations.</p> + +<p>"Associations!" said Dockwrath with a sneer. According to his ideas a +man could have no pleasant associations with a place unless he had +made money there or been in some way successful. Now John Kenneby had +enjoyed no success at Hamworth. "Well then, if you prefer +associations to the Blue Posts I'll say good-bye to you. I don't +understand it myself. We shall see each other at the trial you know." +Kenneby with a sigh said that he supposed they should.</p> + +<p>"Are you going into the house," said Dockwrath, "to see her again?" +and he indicated with his head the side on which his wife was, as she +before had indicated his side.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; I think I'll say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Don't be talking to her about this affair. She understands nothing +about it, and everything goes up to that woman at Orley Farm." And so +they parted.</p> + +<p>"And he wanted you to go to the Blue Posts, did he?" said Miriam when +she heard of the proposition. "It's like him. If there is to be any +money spent it's anywhere but at home."</p> + +<p>"But I ain't going," said John.</p> + +<p>"He'll go before the day's out, though he mayn't get his dinner +there. And he'll be ever so free when he's there. He'll stand brandy +and water to half Hamworth when he thinks he can get anything by it; +but if you'll believe me, John, though I've all the fag of the house +on me, and all them children, I can't get a pint of beer—not +regular—betwixt breakfast and bedtime." Poor Miriam! Why had she not +taken advice when she was younger? John Kenneby would have given her +what beer was good for her, quite regularly.</p> + +<p>Then he went out and took his walk, sauntering away to the gate of +Orley Farm, and looking up the avenue. He ventured up some way, and +there at a distance before him he saw Lucius Mason walking up and +down, from the house towards the road and back again, swinging a +heavy stick in his hand, with his hat pressed down over his brows. +Kenneby had no desire to speak to him; so he returned to the gate, +and thence went back to the station, escaping the town by a side +lane; and in this way he got back to London without holding further +communication with the people of Hamworth.</p> + + +<p><a name="c43" id="c43"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLIII.</h4> +<h3>JOHN KENNEBY'S COURTSHIP.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"She's as sweet a temper, John, as ever stirred a lump of sugar in +her tea," said Mrs. Moulder to her brother, as they sat together over +the fire in Great St. Helen's on that same evening,—after his return +from Hamworth. "That she is,—and so Smiley always found her. 'She's +always the same,' Smiley said to me many a day. And what can a man +want more than that?"</p> + +<p>"That's quite true," said John.</p> + +<p>"And then as to her habits—I never knew her take a drop too much +since first I set eyes on her, and that's nigh twenty years ago. She +likes things comfortable;—and why shouldn't she, with two hundred a +year of her own coming out of the Kingsland Road brick-fields? As for +dress, her things is beautiful, and she is the woman that takes care +of 'em! Why, I remember an Irish tabinet as Smiley gave her when +first that venture in the brick-fields came up money; if that tabinet +is as much as turned yet, why, I'll eat it. And then, the best of it +is, she'll have you to-morrow. Indeed she will; or to-night, if +you'll ask her. Goodness gracious! if there ain't Moulder!" And the +excellent wife jumped up from her seat, poked the fire, emptied the +most comfortable arm-chair, and hurried out to the landing at the top +of the stairs. Presently the noise of a loudly wheezing pair of lungs +was heard, and the commercial traveller, enveloped from head to foot +in coats and comforters, made his appearance. He had just returned +from a journey, and having deposited his parcels and packages at the +house of business of Hubbles and Grease in Houndsditch, had now +returned to the bosom of his family. It was a way he had, not to let +his wife know exactly the period of his return. Whether he thought +that by so doing he might keep her always on the alert and ready for +marital inspection, or whether he disliked to tie himself down by the +obligation of a fixed time for his return, Mrs. Moulder had never +made herself quite sure. But on neither view of the subject did she +admire this practice of her lord. She had on many occasions pointed +out to him how much more snug she could make him if he would only let +her know when he was coming. But he had never taken the hint, and in +these latter days she had ceased to give it.</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm uncommon cold," he said in answer to his wife's inquiries +after his welfare. "And so would you be too, if you'd come up from +Leeds since you'd had your dinner. What, John, are you there? The two +of you are making yourself snug enough, I suppose, with something +hot?"</p> + +<p>"Not a drop he's had yet since he's been in the house," said Mrs. +Moulder. "And he's hardly as much as darkened the door since you left +it." And Mrs. Moulder added, with some little hesitation in her +voice, "Mrs. Smiley is coming in to-night, Moulder."</p> + +<p>"The d—— she is! There's always something of that kind when I gets +home tired out, and wants to be comfortable. I mean to have my supper +to myself, as I likes it, if all the Mother Smileys in London choose +to come the way. What on earth is she coming here for this time of +night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Moulder, you know."</p> + +<p>"No; I don't know. I only know this, that when a man's used up with +business he don't want to have any of that nonsense under his nose."</p> + +<p>"If you mean me—" began John Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean you; of course not; and I don't mean anybody. Here, +take my coats, will you? and let me have a pair of slippers. If Mrs. +Smiley thinks that I'm going to change my pants, or put myself about +for <span class="nowrap">her—"</span></p> + +<p>"Laws, Moulder, she don't expect that."</p> + +<p>"She won't get it any way. Here's John dressed up as if he was going +to a box in the the-atre. And you—why should you be going to +expense, and knocking out things that costs money, because Mother +Smiley's coming? I'll Smiley her."</p> + +<p>"Now, Moulder—" But Mrs. Moulder knew that it was of no use speaking +to him at the present moment. Her task should be this,—to feed and +cosset him if possible into good humour before her guest should +arrive. Her praises of Mrs. Smiley had been very fairly true. But +nevertheless she was a lady who had a mind and voice of her own, as +any lady has a right to possess who draws in her own right two +hundred a year out of a brick-field in the Kingsland Road. Such a one +knows that she is above being snubbed, and Mrs. Smiley knew this of +herself as well as any lady; and if Moulder, in his wrath, should +call her Mother Smiley, or give her to understand that he regarded +her as an old woman, that lady would probably walk herself off in a +great dudgeon,—herself and her share in the brick-field. To tell the +truth, Mrs. Smiley required that considerable deference should be +paid to her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Moulder knew well what was her husband's present ailment. He had +dined as early as one, and on his journey up from Leeds to London had +refreshed himself with drink only. That last glass of brandy which he +had taken at the Peterborough station had made him cross. If she +could get him to swallow some hot food before Mrs. Smiley came, all +might yet be well.</p> + +<p>"And what's it to be, M.?" she said in her most insinuating +voice—"there's a lovely chop down stairs, and there's nothing so +quick as that."</p> + +<p>"Chop!" he said, and it was all he did say at the moment.</p> + +<p>"There's a 'am in beautiful cut," she went on, showing by the urgency +of her voice how anxious she was on the subject.</p> + +<p>For the moment he did not answer her at all, but sat facing the fire, +and running his fat fingers through his uncombed hair. "Mrs. Smiley!" +he said; "I remember when she was kitchen-maid at old Pott's."</p> + +<p>"She ain't nobody's kitchen-maid now," said Mrs. Moulder, almost +prepared to be angry in the defence of her friend.</p> + +<p>"And I never could make out when it was that Smiley married +her,—that is, if he ever did."</p> + +<p>"Now, Moulder, that's shocking of you. Of course he married her. She +and I is nearly an age as possible, though I think she is a year over +me. She says not, and it ain't nothing to me. But I remember the +wedding as if it was yesterday. You and I had never set eyes on each +other then, M." This last she added in a plaintive tone, hoping to +soften him.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to keep me here all night without anything?" he then +said. "Let me have some whisky,—hot, with;—and don't stand there +looking at nothing."</p> + +<p>"But you'll take some solids with it, Moulder? Why it stands to +reason you'll be famished."</p> + +<p>"Do as you're bid, will you, and give me the whisky. Are you going to +tell me when I'm to eat and when I'm to drink, like a child?" This he +said in that tone of voice which made Mrs. Moulder know that he meant +to be obeyed; and though she was sure that he would make himself +drunk, she was compelled to minister to his desires. She got the +whisky and hot water, the lemon and sugar, and set the things beside +him; and then she retired to the sofa. John Kenneby the while sat +perfectly silent looking on. Perhaps he was considering whether he +would be able to emulate the domestic management of Dockwrath or of +Moulder when he should have taken to himself Mrs. Smiley and the +Kingsland brick-field.</p> + +<p>"If you've a mind to help yourself, John, I suppose you'll do it," +said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"None for me just at present, thank'ee," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you wouldn't swallow nothing less than wine in them togs?" +said the other, raising his glass to his lips. "Well, here's better +luck, and I'm blessed if it's not wanting. I'm pretty well tired of +this go, and so I mean to let 'em know pretty plainly."</p> + +<p>All this was understood by Mrs. Moulder, who knew that it only +signified that her husband was half tipsy, and that in all +probability he would be whole tipsy before long. There was no help +for it. Were she to remonstrate with him in his present mood, he +would very probably fling the bottle at her head. Indeed, +remonstrances were never of avail with him. So she sat herself down, +thinking how she would run down when she heard Mrs. Smiley's step, +and beg that lady to postpone her visit. Indeed it would be well to +send John to convey her home again.</p> + +<p>Moulder swallowed his glass of hot toddy fast, and then mixed +another. His eyes were very bloodshot, and he sat staring at the +fire. His hands were thrust into his pockets between the periods of +his drinking, and he no longer spoke to any one. "I'm +<span class="nowrap">——</span> if I stand +it," he growled forth, addressing himself. "I've stood it a +<span class="nowrap">——</span> deal +too long." And then he finished the second glass. There was a sort of +understanding on the part of his wife that such interjections as +these referred to Hubbles and Grease, and indicated a painfully +advanced state of drink. There was one hope; the double heat, that of +the fire and of the whisky, might make him sleep; and if so, he would +be safe for two or three hours.</p> + +<p>"I'm blessed if I do, and that's all," said Moulder, grasping the +whisky-bottle for the third time. His wife sat behind him very +anxious, but not daring to interfere. "It's going over the table, +M.," she then said.</p> + +<p>"D—— the table!" he answered; and then his head fell forward on his +breast, and he was fast asleep with the bottle in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Put your hand to it, John," said Mrs. Moulder in a whisper. But John +hesitated. The lion might rouse himself if his prey were touched.</p> + +<p>"He'll let it go easy if you put your hand to it. He's safe enough +now. There. If we could only get him back from the fire a little, or +his face'll be burnt off of him."</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't move him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; we'll try. I've done it before, and he's never stirred. +Come here, just behind. The casters is good, I know. Laws! ain't he +heavy?" And then they slowly dragged him back. He grunted out some +half-pronounced threat as they moved him; but he did not stir, and +his wife knew that she was again mistress of the room for the next +two hours. It was true that he snored horribly, but then she was used +to that.</p> + +<p>"You won't let her come up, will you?" said John.</p> + +<p>"Why not? She knows what men is as well I do. Smiley wasn't that way +often, I believe; but he was awful when he was. He wouldn't sleep it +off, quite innocent, like that; but would break everything about the +place, and then cry like a child after it. Now Moulder's got none of +that about him. The worst of it is, how am I ever to get him into bed +when he wakes?"</p> + +<p>While the anticipation of this great trouble was still on her mind, +the ring at the bell was heard, and John Kenneby went down to the +outer door that he might pay to Mrs. Smiley the attention of waiting +upon her up stairs. And up stairs she came, bristling with silk—the +identical Irish tabinet, perhaps, which had never been turned—and +conscious of the business which had brought her.</p> + +<p>"What—Moulder's asleep is he?" she said as she entered the room. "I +suppose that's as good as a pair of gloves, any way."</p> + +<p>"He ain't just very well," said Mrs. Moulder, winking at her friend; +"he's tired after a long journey."</p> + +<p>"Oh-h! ah-h!" said Mrs. Smiley, looking down upon the sleeping +beauty, and understanding everything at a glance. "It's uncommon bad +for him, you know, because he's so given to flesh."</p> + +<p>"It's as much fatigue as anything," said the wife.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say;" and Mrs. Smiley shook her head. "If he fatigues +himself so much as that often he'll soon be off the hooks."</p> + +<p>Much was undoubtedly to be borne from two hundred a year in a +brick-field, especially when that two hundred a year was coming so +very near home; but there is an amount of impertinent familiarity +which must be put down even in two hundred a year. "I've known worse +cases than him, my dear; and that ended worse."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say. But you're mistook if you mean Smiley. It was +'sepilus as took him off, as everybody knows."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, I'm sure I'm not going to say anything against that. +And now, John, do help her off with her bonnet and shawl, while I get +the tea-things."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Smiley was a firm set, healthy-looking woman of—about forty. +She had large, dark, glassy eyes, which were bright without +sparkling. Her cheeks were very red, having a fixed settled colour +that never altered with circumstances. Her black wiry hair was ended +in short crisp curls, which sat close to her head. It almost +collected like a wig, but the hair was in truth her own. Her mouth +was small, and her lips thin, and they gave to her face a look of +sharpness that was not quite agreeable. Nevertheless she was not a +bad-looking woman, and with such advantages as two hundred a year and +the wardrobe which Mrs. Moulder had described, was no doubt entitled +to look for a second husband.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Kenneby, and how do you find yourself this cold weather? +Dear, how he do snore; don't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Kenneby, very thoughtfully, "he does rather." He was +thinking of Miriam Usbech as she was twenty years ago, and of Mrs. +Smiley as she appeared at present. Not that he felt inclined to +grumble at the lot prepared for him, but that he would like to take a +few more years to think about it.</p> + +<p>And then they sat down to tea. The lovely chops which Moulder had +despised, and the ham in beautiful cut which had failed to tempt him, +now met with due appreciation. Mrs. Smiley, though she had never been +known to take a drop too much, did like to have things comfortable; +and on this occasion she made an excellent meal, with a large +pocket-handkerchief of Moulder's—brought in for the +occasion—stretched across the broad expanse of the Irish tabinet. +"We sha'n't wake him, shall we?" said she, as she took her last bit +of muffin.</p> + +<p>"Not till he wakes natural, of hisself," said Mrs. Moulder. "When +he's worked it off, he'll rouse himself, and I shall have to get him +to bed."</p> + +<p>"He'll be a bit patchy then, won't he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, just for a while of course he will," said Mrs. Moulder. "But +there's worse than him. To-morrow morning, maybe, he'll be just as +sweet as sweet. It don't hang about him, sullen like. That's what I +hate, when it hangs about 'em." Then the tea-things were taken away, +Mrs. Smiley in her familiarity assisting in the removal, and—in +spite of the example now before them—some more sugar and some more +spirits, and some more hot water were put upon the table. "Well, I +don't mind just the least taste in life, Mrs. Moulder, as we're quite +between friends; and I'm sure you'll want it to-night to keep +yourself up." Mrs. Moulder would have answered these last words with +some severity had she not felt that good humour now might be of great +value to her brother.</p> + +<p>"Well, John, and what is it you've got to say to her?" said Mrs. +Moulder, as she put down her empty glass. Between friends who +understood each other so well, and at their time of life, what was +the use of ceremony?</p> + +<p>"La, Mrs. Moulder, what should he have got to say? Nothing I'm sure +as I'd think of listening to."</p> + +<p>"You try her, John."</p> + +<p>"Not but what I've the greatest respect in life for Mr. Kenneby, and +always did have. If you must have anything to do with men, I've +always said, recommend me to them as is quiet and steady, and hasn't +got too much of the gab;—a quiet man is the man for me any day."</p> + +<p>"Well, John?" said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mrs. Moulder, can't you keep yourself to yourself, and we shall +do very well. Laws, how he do snore! When his head goes bobbing that +way I do so fear he'll have a fit."</p> + +<p>"No he won't; he's coming to, all right. Well, John?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I shall be very happy," said John, "if she likes it. She +says that she respects me, and I'm sure I've a great respect for her. +I always had—even when Mr. Smiley was alive."</p> + +<p>"It's very good of you to say so," said she; not speaking however as +though she were quite satisfied. What was the use of his remembering +Smiley just at present?</p> + +<p>"Enough's enough between friends any day," said Mrs. Moulder. "So +give her your hand, John."</p> + +<p>"I think it'll be right to say one thing first," said Kenneby, with a +solemn and deliberate tone.</p> + +<p>"And what's that?" said Mrs. Smiley, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"In such a matter as this," continued Kenneby, "where the hearts are +<span class="nowrap">concerned—"</span></p> + +<p>"You didn't say anything about hearts yet," said Mrs. Smiley, with +some measure of approbation in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I?" said Kenneby. "Then it was an omission on my part, and I +beg leave to apologise. But what I was going to say is this: when the +hearts are concerned, everything should be honest and above-board."</p> + +<p>"Oh of course," said Mrs. Moulder; "and I'm sure she don't suspect +nothing else."</p> + +<p>"You'd better let him go on," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"My heart has not been free from woman's lovely image."</p> + +<p>"And isn't free now, is it, John?" said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"I've had my object, and though she's been another's, still I've kept +her image on my heart."</p> + +<p>"But it ain't there any longer, John? He's speaking of twenty years +ago, Mrs. Smiley."</p> + +<p>"It's quite beautiful to hear him," said Mrs. Smiley. "Go on, Mr. +Kenneby."</p> + +<p>"The years are gone by as though they was nothing, and still I've had +her image on my heart. I've seen her to-day."</p> + +<p>"Her gentleman's still alive, ain't he?" asked Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"And likely to live," said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"I've seen her to-day," Kenneby continued; "and now the Adriatic's +free to wed another."</p> + +<p>Neither of the ladies present exactly understood the force of the +quotation; but as it contained an appropriate reference to marriage, +and apparently to a second marriage, it was taken by both of them in +good part. He was considered to have made his offer, and Mrs. Smiley +thereupon formally accepted him. "He's spoke quite handsome, I'm +sure," said Mrs. Smiley to his sister; "and I don't know that any +woman has a right to expect more. As to the +<span class="nowrap">brick-fields—."</span> And then +there was a slight reference to business, with which it will not be +necessary that the readers of this story should embarrass themselves.</p> + +<p>Soon after that Mr. Kenneby saw Mrs. Smiley home in a cab, and poor +Mrs. Moulder sat by her lord till he roused himself from his sleep. +Let us hope that her troubles with him were as little vexatious as +possible; and console ourselves with the reflection that at twelve +o'clock the next morning, after the second bottle of soda and brandy, +he was "as sweet as sweet."</p> + + +<p><a name="c44" id="c44"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW LADY MASON<br />COULD BE VERY NOBLE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Mason returned to The Cleeve after her visit to Mr. Furnival's +chambers, and nobody asked her why she had been to London or whom she +had seen. Nothing could be more gracious than the deference which was +shown to her, and the perfect freedom of action which was accorded to +her. On that very day Lady Staveley had called at The Cleeve, +explaining to Sir Peregrine and Mrs. Orme that her visit was made +expressly to Lady Mason. "I should have called at Orley Farm, of +course," said Lady Staveley, "only that I hear that Lady Mason is +likely to prolong her visit with you. I must trust to you, Mrs. Orme, +to make all that understood." Sir Peregrine took upon himself to say +that it all should be understood, and then drawing Lady Staveley +aside, told her of his own intended marriage. "I cannot but be +aware," he said, "that I have no business to trouble you with an +affair that is so exclusively our own; but I have a wish, which +perhaps you may understand, that there should be no secret about it. +I think it better, for her sake, that it should be known. If the +connection can be of any service to her, she should reap that benefit +now, when some people are treating her name with a barbarity which I +believe to be almost unparalleled in this country." In answer to this +Lady Staveley was of course obliged to congratulate him, and she did +so with the best grace in her power; but it was not easy to say much +that was cordial, and as she drove back with Mrs. Arbuthnot to +Noningsby the words which were said between them as to Lady Mason +were not so kindly meant towards that lady as their remarks on their +journey to The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley had hoped,—though she had hardly expressed her hope +even to herself, and certainly had not spoken of it to any one +else,—that she might have been able to say a word or two to Mrs. +Orme about young Peregrine, a word or two that would have shown her +own good feeling towards the young man,—her own regard, and almost +affection for him, even though this might have been done without any +mention of Madeline's name. She might have learned in this way +whether young Orme had made known at home what had been his hopes and +what his disappointments, and might have formed some opinion whether +or no he would renew his suit. She would not have been the first to +mention her daughter's name; but if Mrs. Orme should speak of it, +then the subject would be free for her, and she could let it be known +that the heir of The Cleeve should at any rate have her sanction and +good will. What happiness could be so great for her as that of having +a daughter so settled, within eight miles of her? And then it was not +only that a marriage between her daughter and Peregrine Orme would be +an event so fortunate, but also that those feelings with reference to +Felix Graham were so unfortunate! That young heart, she thought, +could not as yet be heavy laden, and it might be possible that the +whole affair should be made to run in the proper course,—if only it +could be done at once. But now, that tale which Sir Peregrine had +told her respecting himself and Lady Mason had made it quite +impossible that anything should be said on the other subject. And +then again, if it was decreed that the Noningsby family and the +family of The Cleeve should be connected, would not such a marriage +as this between the baronet and Lady Mason be very injurious? So that +Lady Staveley was not quite happy as she returned to her own house.</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley's message, however, for Lady Mason was given with all +its full force. Sir Peregrine had felt grateful for what had been +done, and Mrs. Orme, in talking of it, made quite the most of it. +Civility from the Staveleys to the Ormes would not, in the ordinary +course of things, be accounted of any special value. The two families +might, and naturally would, know each other on intimate terms. But +the Ormes would as a matter of course stand the highest in general +estimation. Now, however, the Ormes had to bear up Lady Mason with +them. Sir Peregrine had so willed it, and Mrs. Orme had not for a +moment thought of contesting the wish of one whose wishes she had +never contested. No words were spoken on the subject; but still with +both of them there was a feeling that Lady Staveley's countenance and +open friendship would be of value. When it had come to this with Sir +Peregrine Orme, he was already disgraced in his own +estimation,—already disgraced, although he declared to himself a +thousand times that he was only doing his duty as a gentleman.</p> + +<p>On that evening Lady Mason said no word of her new purpose. She had +pledged herself both to Peregrine Orme and to Mr. Furnival. To both +she had made a distinct promise that she would break off her +engagement, and she knew well that the deed should be done at once. +But how was she to do it? With what words was she to tell him that +she had changed her mind and would not take the hand that he had +offered to her? She feared to be a moment alone with Peregrine lest +he should tax her with the non-fulfilment of her promise. But in +truth Peregrine at the present moment was thinking more of another +matter. It had almost come home to him that his grandfather's +marriage might facilitate his own; and though he still was far from +reconciling himself to the connection with Lady Mason, he was almost +disposed to put up with it.</p> + +<p>On the following day, at about noon, a chariot with a pair of +post-horses was brought up to the door of The Cleeve at a very fast +pace, and the two ladies soon afterwards learned that Lord Alston was +closeted with Sir Peregrine. Lord Alston was one of Sir Peregrine's +oldest friends. He was a man senior both in age and standing to the +baronet; and, moreover, he was a friend who came but seldom to The +Cleeve, although his friendship was close and intimate. Nothing was +said between Mrs. Orme and Lady Mason, but each dreaded that Lord +Alston had come to remonstrate about the marriage. And so in truth he +had. The two old men were together for about an hour, and then Lord +Alston took his departure without asking for, or seeing any other one +of the family. Lord Alston had remonstrated about the marriage, using +at last very strong language to dissuade the baronet from a step +which he thought so unfortunate; but he had remonstrated altogether +in vain. Every word he had used was not only fruitless, but +injurious; for Sir Peregrine was a man whom it was very difficult to +rescue by opposition, though no man might be more easily led by +assumed acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"Orme, my dear fellow," said his lordship, towards the end of the +interview, "it is my duty, as an old friend, to tell you this."</p> + +<p>"Then, Lord Alston, you have done your duty."</p> + +<p>"Not while a hope remains that I may prevent this marriage."</p> + +<p>"There is ground for no such hope on your part; and permit me to say +that the expression of such a hope to me is greatly wanting in +courtesy."</p> + +<p>"You and I," continued Lord Alston, without apparent attention to the +last words which Sir Peregrine had spoken, "have nearly come to the +end of our tether here. Our careers have been run; and I think I may +say as regards both, but I may certainly say as regards you, that +they have been so run that we have not disgraced those who preceded +us. Our dearest hopes should be that our names may never be held as a +reproach by those who come after us."</p> + +<p>"With God's blessing I will do nothing to disgrace my family."</p> + +<p>"But, Orme, you and I cannot act as may those whose names in the +world are altogether unnoticed. I know that you are doing this from a +feeling of charity to that lady."</p> + +<p>"I am doing it, Lord Alston, because it so pleases me."</p> + +<p>"But your first charity is due to your grandson. Suppose that he was +making an offer of his hand to the daughter of some nobleman,—as he +is so well entitled to do,—how would it affect his hopes if it were +known that you at the time had married a lady whose misfortune made +it necessary that she should stand at the bar in a criminal court?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Alston," said Sir Peregrine, rising from his chair, "I trust +that my grandson may never rest his hopes on any woman whose heart +could be hardened against him by such a thought as that."</p> + +<p>"But what if she should be guilty?" said Lord Alston.</p> + +<p>"Permit me to say," said Sir Peregrine, still standing, and standing +now bolt upright, as though his years did not weigh on him a feather, +"that this conversation has gone far enough. There are some surmises +to which I cannot listen, even from Lord Alston."</p> + +<p>Then his lordship shrugged his shoulders, declared that in speaking +as he had spoken he had endeavoured to do a friendly duty by an old +friend,—certainly the oldest, and almost the dearest friend he +had,—and so he took his leave. The wheels of the chariot were heard +grating over the gravel, as he was carried away from the door at a +gallop, and the two ladies looked into each other's faces, saying +nothing. Sir Peregrine was not seen from that time till dinner; but +when he did come into the drawing-room his manner to Lady Mason was, +if possible, more gracious and more affectionate than ever.</p> + +<p>"So Lord Alston was here to-day," Peregrine said to his mother that +night before he went to bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was here."</p> + +<p>"It was about this marriage, mother, as sure as I am standing here."</p> + +<p>"I don't think Lord Alston would interfere about that, Perry."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't he? He would interfere about anything he did not like; that +is, as far as the pluck of it goes. Of course he can't like it. Who +can?"</p> + +<p>"Perry, your grandfather likes it; and surely he has a right to +please himself."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that. You might say the same thing if he wanted +to kill all the foxes about the place, or do any other outlandish +thing. Of course he might kill them, as far as the law goes, but +where would he be afterwards? She hasn't said anything to him, has +she?"</p> + +<p>"I think not."</p> + +<p>"Nor to you?"</p> + +<p>"No; she has not spoken to me; not about that."</p> + +<p>"She promised me positively that she would break it off."</p> + +<p>"You must not be hard on her, Perry."</p> + +<p>Just as these words were spoken, there came a low knock at Mrs. +Orme's dressing-room door. This room, in which Mrs. Orme was wont to +sit for an hour or so every night before she went to bed, was the +scene of all the meetings of affection which took place between the +mother and the son. It was a pretty little apartment, opening from +Mrs. Orme's bed-room, which had at one time been the exclusive +property of Peregrine's father. But by degrees it had altogether +assumed feminine attributes; had been furnished with soft chairs, a +sofa, and a lady's table; and though called by the name of Mrs. +Orme's dressing-room, was in fact a separate sitting-room devoted to +her exclusive use. Sir Peregrine would not for worlds have entered it +without sending up his name beforehand, and this he did on only very +rare occasions. But Lady Mason had of late been admitted here, and +Mrs. Orme now knew that it was her knock.</p> + +<p>"Open the door, Perry," she said; "it is Lady Mason." He did open the +door, and Lady Mason entered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme, I did not know that you were here."</p> + +<p>"I am just off. Good night, mother."</p> + +<p>"But I am disturbing you."</p> + +<p>"No, we had done;" and he stooped down and kissed his mother. "Good +night, Lady Mason. Hadn't I better put some coals on for you, or the +fire will be out?" He did put on the coals, and then he went his way.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason while he was doing this had sat down on the sofa, close to +Mrs. Orme; but when the door was closed Mrs. Orme was the first to +speak. "Well, dear," she said, putting her hand caressingly on the +other's arm. I am inclined to think that had there been no one whom +Mrs. Orme was bound to consult but herself, she would have wished +that this marriage should have gone on. To her it would have been +altogether pleasant to have had Lady Mason ever with her in the +house; and she had none of those fears as to future family +retrospections respecting which Lord Alston had spoken with so much +knowledge of the world. As it was, her manner was so caressing and +affectionate to her guest, that she did much more to promote Sir +Peregrine's wishes than to oppose them. "Well, dear," she said, with +her sweetest smile.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry that I have driven your son away."</p> + +<p>"He was going. Besides, it would make no matter; he would stay here +all night sometimes, if I didn't drive him away myself. He comes here +and writes his letters at the most unconscionable hours, and uses up +all my note-paper in telling some horsekeeper what is to be done with +his mare."</p> + +<p>"Ah, how happy you must be to have him!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose I am," she said, as a tear came into her eyes. "We +are so hard to please. I am all anxiety now that he should be +married; and if he were married, then I suppose I should grumble +because I did not see so much of him. He would be more settled if he +would marry, I think. For myself I approve of early marriages for +young men." And then she thought of her own husband whom she had +loved so well and lost so soon. And so they sat silent for a while, +each thinking of her own lot in life.</p> + +<p>"But I must not keep you up all night," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do so like you to be here," said the other. Then again she +took hold of her arm, and the two women kissed each other.</p> + +<p>"But, Edith," said the other, "I came in here to-night with a +purpose. I have something that I wish to say to you. Can you listen +to me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Mrs. Orme; "surely."</p> + +<p>"Has your son been talking to you about—about what was said between +him and me the other day? I am sure he has, for I know he tells you +everything,—as he ought to do."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did speak to me," said Mrs. Orme, almost trembling with +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad, for now it will be easier for me to tell you. And +since that I have seen Mr. Furnival, and he says the same. I tell you +because you are so good and so loving to me. I will keep nothing from +you; but you must not tell Sir Peregrine that I talked to Mr. +Furnival about this."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme gave the required promise, hardly thinking at the moment +whether or no she would be guilty of any treason against Sir +Peregrine in doing so.</p> + +<p>"I think I should have said nothing to him, though he is so very old +a friend, had not Mr. <span class="nowrap">Orme—"</span></p> + +<p>"You mean Peregrine?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; had not he been so—so earnest about it. He told me that if I +married Sir Peregrine I should be doing a cruel injury to him—to his +grandfather."</p> + +<p>"He should not have said that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Edith,—if he thinks it. He told me that I should be turning +all his friends against him. So I promised him that I would speak to +Sir Peregrine, and break it off if it be possible."</p> + +<p>"He told me that."</p> + +<p>"And then I spoke to Mr. Furnival, and he told me that I should be +blamed by all the world if I were to marry him. I cannot tell you all +he said, but he said this: that +<span class="nowrap">if—if—"</span></p> + +<p>"If what, dear?"</p> + +<p>"If in the court they should say—"</p> + +<p>"Say what?"</p> + +<p>"Say that I did this thing,—then Sir Peregrine would be crushed, and +would die with a broken heart."</p> + +<p>"But they cannot say that;—it is impossible. You do not think it +possible that they can do so?" And then again she took hold of Lady +Mason's arm, and looked up anxiously, into her face. She looked up +anxiously, not suspecting anything, not for a moment presuming it +possible that such a verdict could be justly given, but in order that +she might see how far the fear of a fate so horrible was operating on +her friend. Lady Mason's face was pale and woe-worn, but not more so +than was now customary with her.</p> + +<p>"One cannot say what may be possible," she answered slowly. "I +suppose they would not go on with it if they did not think they had +some chance of success."</p> + +<p>"You mean as to the property?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; as to the property."</p> + +<p>"But why should they not try that, if they must try it, without +dragging you there?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I do not understand; or at least I cannot explain it. Mr. +Furnival says that it must be so; and therefore I shall tell Sir +Peregrine to-morrow that all this must be given up." And then they +sat together silently, holding each other by the hand.</p> + +<p>"Good night, Edith," Lady Mason said at last, getting up from her +seat.</p> + +<p>"Good night, dearest."</p> + +<p>"You will let me be your friend still, will you not?" said Lady +Mason.</p> + +<p>"My friend! Oh yes; always my friend. Why should this interfere +between you and me?"</p> + +<p>"But he will be very angry—at least I fear that he will. Not +that—not that he will have anything to regret. But the very strength +of his generosity and nobleness will make him angry. He will be +indignant because I do not let him make this sacrifice for me. And +then—and then—I fear I must leave this house."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not that; I will speak to him. He will do anything for me."</p> + +<p>"It will be better perhaps that I should go. People will think that I +am estranged from Lucius. But if I go, you will come to me? He will +let you do that; will he not?"</p> + +<p>And then there were warm, close promises given, and embraces +interchanged. The women did love each other with a hearty, true love, +and each longed that they might be left together. And yet how +different they were, and how different had been their lives!</p> + +<p>The prominent thought in Lady Mason's mind as she returned to her own +room was this:—that Mrs. Orme had said no word to dissuade her from +the line of conduct which she had proposed to herself. Mrs. Orme had +never spoken against the marriage as Peregrine had spoken, and Mr. +Furnival. Her heart had not been stern enough to allow her to do +that. But was it not clear that her opinion was the same as theirs? +Lady Mason acknowledged to herself that it was clear, and +acknowledged to herself also that no one was in favour of the +marriage. "I will do it immediately after breakfast," she said to +herself. And then she sat down,—and sat through the half the night +thinking of it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme, when she was left alone, almost rebuked herself in that +she had said no word of counsel against the undertaking which Lady +Mason proposed for herself. For Mr. Furnival and his opinion she did +not care much. Indeed, she would have been angry with Lady Mason for +speaking to Mr. Furnival on the subject, were it not that her pity +was too deep to admit of any anger. That the truth must be +established at the trial Mrs. Orme felt all but confident. When alone +she would feel quite sure on this point, though a doubt would always +creep in on her when Lady Mason was with her. But now, as she sat +alone, she could not realise the idea that the fear of a verdict +against her friend should offer any valid reason against the +marriage. The valid reasons, if there were such, must be looked for +elsewhere. And were these other reasons so strong in their validity? +Sir Peregrine desired the marriage; and so did Lady Mason herself, as +regarded her own individual wishes. Mrs. Orme was sure that this was +so. And then for her own self, she,—Sir Peregrine's daughter-in-law, +the only lady concerned in the matter,—she also would have liked it. +But her son disliked it, and she had yielded so far to the wishes of +her son. Well; was it not right that with her those wishes should be +all but paramount? And thus she endeavoured to satisfy her conscience +as she retired to rest.</p> + +<p>On the following morning the four assembled at breakfast. Lady Mason +hardly spoke at all to any one. Mrs. Orme, who knew what was about to +take place, was almost as silent; but Sir Peregrine had almost more +to say than usual to his grandson. He was in good spirits, having +firmly made up his mind on a certain point; and he showed this by +telling Peregrine that he would ride with him immediately after +breakfast. "What has made you so slack about your hunting during the +last two or three days?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I shall hunt to-morrow," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Then you can afford time to ride with me through the woods after +breakfast." And so it would have been arranged had not Lady Mason +immediately said that she hoped to be able to say a few words to Sir +Peregrine in the library after breakfast. "<i>Place aux dames</i>," said +he. "Peregrine, the horses can wait." And so the matter was arranged +while they were still sitting over their toast.</p> + +<p>Peregrine, as this was said, had looked at his mother, but she had +not ventured to take her eyes for a moment from the teapot. Then he +had looked at Lady Mason, and saw that she was, as it were, going +through a fashion of eating her breakfast. In order to break the +absolute silence of the room he muttered something about the weather, +and then his grandfather, with the same object, answered him. After +that no words were spoken till Sir Peregrine, rising from his chair, +declared that he was ready.</p> + +<p>He got up and opened the door for his guest, and then hurrying across +the hall, opened the library door for her also, holding it till she +had passed in. Then he took her left hand in his, and passing his +right arm round her waist, asked her if anything disturbed her.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," she said, "yes; there is much that disturbs me. I have done +very wrong."</p> + +<p>"How done wrong, Mary?" She could not recollect that he had called +her Mary before, and the sound she thought was very sweet;—was very +sweet, although she was over forty, and he over seventy years of age.</p> + +<p>"I have done very wrong, and I have now come here that I may undo it. +Dear Sir Peregrine, you must not be angry with me."</p> + +<p>"I do not think that I shall be angry with you; but what is it, +dearest?"</p> + +<p>But she did not know how to find words to declare her purpose. It was +comparatively an easy task to tell Mrs. Orme that she had made up her +mind not to marry Sir Peregrine, but it was by no means easy to tell +the baronet himself. And now she stood there leaning over the +fireplace, with his arm round her waist,—as it behoved her to stand +no longer, seeing the resolution to which she had come. But still she +did not speak.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mary, what is it? I know there is something on your mind or +you would not have summoned me in here. Is it about the trial? Have +you seen Mr. Furnival again?"</p> + +<p>"No; it is not about the trial," she said, avoiding the other +question.</p> + +<p>"What is it then?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Peregrine, it is impossible that we should be married." And thus +she brought forth her tidings, as it were at a gasp, speaking at the +moment with a voice that was almost indicative of anger.</p> + +<p>"And why not?" said he, releasing her from his arm and looking at +her.</p> + +<p>"It cannot be," she said.</p> + +<p>"And why not, Lady Mason?"</p> + +<p>"It cannot be," she said again, speaking with more emphasis, and with +a stronger tone.</p> + +<p>"And is that all that you intend to tell me? Have I done anything +that has offended you?"</p> + +<p>"Offended me! No. I do not think that would be possible. The offence +is on the other <span class="nowrap">side—"</span></p> + +<p>"Then, my dear,—"</p> + +<p>"But listen to me now. It cannot be. I know that it is wrong. +Everything tells me that such a marriage on your part would be a +sacrifice,—a terrible sacrifice. You would be throwing away your +great <span class="nowrap">rank—"</span></p> + +<p>"No," shouted Sir Peregrine; "not though I married a +kitchen-maid,—instead of a lady who in social life is my equal."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no; I should not have said rank. You cannot lose that;—but your +station in the world, the respect of all around you, +the—the—<span class="nowrap">the—"</span></p> + +<p>"Who has been telling you all this?"</p> + +<p>"I have wanted no one to tell me. Thinking of it has told it me all. +My own heart which is full of gratitude and love for you has told +me."</p> + +<p>"You have not seen Lord Alston?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Alston! oh, no."</p> + +<p>"Has Peregrine been speaking to you?"</p> + +<p>"Peregrine!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; Peregrine; my grandson?"</p> + +<p>"He has spoken to me."</p> + +<p>"Telling you to say this to me. Then he is an ungrateful boy;—a very +ungrateful boy. I would have done anything to guard him from wrong in +this matter."</p> + +<p>"Ah; now I see the evil that I have done. Why did I ever come into +the house to make quarrels between you?"</p> + +<p>"There shall be no quarrel. I will forgive him even that if you will +be guided by me. And, dearest Mary, you must be guided by me now. +This matter has gone too far for you to go back—unless, indeed, you +will say that personally you have an aversion to the marriage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; no; it is not that," she said eagerly. She could not help +saying it with eagerness. She could not inflict the wound on his +feelings which her silence would then have given.</p> + +<p>"Under those circumstances, I have a right to say that the marriage +must go on."</p> + +<p>"No; no."</p> + +<p>"But I say it must. Sit down, Mary." And she did sit down, while he +stood leaning over her and thus spoke. "You speak of sacrificing me. +I am an old man with not many more years before me. If I did +sacrifice what little is left to me of life with the object of +befriending one whom I really love, there would be no more in it than +what a man might do, and still feel that the balance was on the right +side. But here there will be no sacrifice. My life will be happier, +and so will Edith's. And so indeed will that boy's, if he did but +know it. For the world's talk, which will last some month or two, I +care nothing. This I will confess, that if I were prompted to this +only by my own inclination, only by love for +<span class="nowrap">you—"</span> and as he spoke +he held out his hand to her, and she could not refuse him hers—"in +such a case I should doubt and hesitate and probably keep aloof from +such a step. But it is not so. In doing this I shall gratify my own +heart, and also serve you in your great troubles. Believe me, I have +thought of that."</p> + +<p>"I know you have, Sir Peregrine,—and therefore it cannot be."</p> + +<p>"But therefore it shall be. The world knows it now; and were we to be +separated after what has past, the world would say that I—I had +thought you guilty of this crime."</p> + +<p>"I must bear all that." And now she stood before him, not looking him +in the face, but with her face turned down towards the ground, and +speaking hardly above her breath.</p> + +<p>"By heavens, no; not whilst I can stand by your side. Not whilst I +have strength left to support you and thrust the lie down the throat +of such a wretch as Joseph Mason. No, Mary, go back to Edith and tell +her that you have tried it, but that there is no escape for you." And +then he smiled at her. His smile at times could be very pleasant!</p> + +<p>But she did not smile as she answered him. "Sir Peregrine," she said; +and she endeavoured to raise her face to his but failed.</p> + +<p>"Well, my love."</p> + +<p>"Sir Peregrine, I am guilty."</p> + +<p>"Guilty! Guilty of what?" he said, startled rather than instructed by +her words.</p> + +<p>"Guilty of all this with which they charge me." And then she threw +herself at his feet, and wound her arms round his knees.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill44" id="ill44"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill44.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill44-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Guilty." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Guilty.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill44.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p><a name="c45" id="c45"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW MRS. ORME<br />COULD BE VERY WEAK MINDED.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I venture to think, I may almost say to hope, that Lady Mason's +confession at the end of the last chapter will not have taken anybody +by surprise. If such surprise be felt I must have told my tale badly. +I do not like such revulsions of feeling with regard to my characters +as surprises of this nature must generate. That Lady Mason had +committed the terrible deed for which she was about to be tried, that +Mr. Furnival's suspicion of her guilt was only too well founded, that +Mr. Dockwrath with his wicked ingenuity had discovered no more than +the truth, will, in its open revelation, have caused no surprise to +the reader;—but it did cause terrible surprise to Sir Peregrine +Orme.</p> + +<p>And now we must go back a little and endeavour to explain how it was +that Lady Mason had made this avowal of her guilt. That she had not +intended to do so when she entered Sir Peregrine's library is very +certain. Had such been her purpose she would not have asked Mrs. Orme +to visit her at Orley Farm. Had such a course of events been in her +mind she would not have spoken of her departure from The Cleeve as +doubtful. No. She had intended still to keep her terrible secret to +herself; still to have leaned upon Sir Peregrine's arm as on the arm +of a trusting friend. But he had overcome her by his generosity; and +in her fixed resolve that he should not be dragged down into this +abyss of misery the sudden determination to tell the truth at least +to him had come upon her. She did tell him all; and then, as soon as +the words were out of her mouth, the strength which had enabled her +to do so deserted her, and she fell at his feet overcome by weakness +of body as well as spirit.</p> + +<p>But the words which she spoke did not at first convey to his mind +their full meaning. Though she had twice repeated the assertion that +she was guilty, the fact of her guilt did not come home to his +understanding as a thing that he could credit. There was something, +he doubted not, to surprise and harass him,—something which when +revealed and made clear might, or might not, affect his purpose of +marrying,—something which it behoved this woman to tell before she +could honestly become his wife, something which was destined to give +his heart a blow. But he was very far as yet from understanding the +whole truth. Let us think of those we love best, and ask ourselves +how much it would take to convince us of their guilt in such a +matter. That thrusting of the lie down the throat of Joseph Mason had +become to him so earnest a duty, that the task of believing the lie +to be on the other side was no easy one. The blow which he had to +suffer was a cruel blow. Lady Mason, however, was merciful, for she +might have enhanced the cruelty tenfold.</p> + +<p>He stood there wondering and bewildered for some minutes of time, +while she, with her face hidden, still clung round his knees. "What +is it?" at last he said. "I do not understand." But she had no answer +to make to him. Her great resolve had been quickly made and quickly +carried out, but now the reaction left her powerless. He stooped down +to raise her; but when he moved she fell prone upon the ground; he +could hear her sobs as though her bosom would burst with them.</p> + +<p>And then by degrees the meaning of her words began to break upon him. +"I am guilty of all this with which they charge me." Could that be +possible? Could it be that she had forged that will; that with base, +premeditated contrivance she had stolen that property; stolen it and +kept it from that day to this;—through all these long years? And +then he thought of her pure life, of her womanly, dignified repose, +of her devotion to her son,—such devotion indeed!—of her sweet pale +face and soft voice! He thought of all this, and of his own love and +friendship for her,—of Edith's love for her! He thought of it all, +and he could not believe that she was guilty. There was some other +fault, some much lesser fault than that, with which she charged +herself. But there she lay at his feet, and it was necessary that he +should do something towards lifting her to a seat.</p> + +<p>He stooped and took her by the hand, but his feeble strength was not +sufficient to raise her. "Lady Mason," he said, "speak to me. I do +not understand you. Will you not let me seat you on the sofa?"</p> + +<p>But she, at least, had realised the full force of the revelation she +had made, and lay there covered with shame, broken-hearted, and +unable to raise her eyes from the ground. With what inward struggles +she had played her part during the last few months, no one might ever +know! But those struggles had been kept to herself. The world, her +world, that world for which she had cared, in which she had lived, +had treated her with honour and respect, and had looked upon her as +an ill-used innocent woman. But now all that would be over. Every one +now must know what she was. And then, as she lay there, that thought +came to her. Must every one know it? Was there no longer any hope for +her? Must Lucius be told? She could bear all the rest, if only he +might be ignorant of his mother's disgrace;—he, for whom all had +been done! But no. He, and every one must know it. Oh! if the +beneficent Spirit that sees all and pities all would but take her +that moment from the world!</p> + +<p>When Sir Peregrine asked her whether he should seat her on the sofa, +she slowly picked herself up, and with her head still crouching +towards the ground, placed herself where she before had been sitting. +He had been afraid that she would have fainted, but she was not one +of those women whose nature easily admits of such relief as that. +Though she was always pale in colour and frail looking, there was +within her a great power of self-sustenance. She was a woman who with +a good cause might have dared anything. With the worst cause that a +woman could well have, she had dared and endured very much. She did +not faint, nor gasp as though she were choking, nor become hysteric +in her agony; but she lay there, huddled up in the corner of the +sofa, with her face hidden, and all those feminine graces forgotten +which had long stood her in truth so royally. The inner, true, living +woman was there at last,—that and nothing else.</p> + +<p>But he,—what was he to do? It went against his heart to harass her +at that moment; but then it was essential that he should know the +truth. The truth, or a suspicion of the truth was now breaking upon +him; and if that suspicion should be confirmed, what was he to do? It +was at any rate necessary that everything should be put beyond a +doubt.</p> + +<p>"Lady Mason," he said, "if you are able to speak to +<span class="nowrap">me—"</span></p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, gradually straightening herself, and raising her +head though she did not look at him. "Yes. I am able." But there was +something terrible in the sound of her voice. It was such a sound of +agony that he felt himself unable to persist.</p> + +<p>"If you wish it I will leave you, and come back,—say in an hour."</p> + +<p>"No, no; do not leave me." And her whole body was shaken with a +tremour, as though of an ague fit. "Do not go away, and I will tell +you everything. I did it."</p> + +<p>"Did what?"</p> + +<p>"I—forged the will. I did it all.—I am guilty."</p> + +<p>There was the whole truth now, declared openly and in the most simple +words, and there was no longer any possibility that he should doubt. +It was very terrible,—a terrible tragedy. But to him at this present +moment the part most frightful was his and her present position. What +should he do for her? How should he counsel her? In what way so act +that he might best assist her without compromising that high sense of +right and wrong which in him was a second nature. He felt at the +moment that he would still give his last shilling to rescue +her,—only that there was the property! Let the heavens fall, justice +must be done there. Even a wretch such as Joseph Mason must have that +which was clearly his own.</p> + +<p>As she spoke those last words, she had risen from the sofa, and was +now standing before him resting with her hands upon the table, like a +prisoner in the dock.</p> + +<p>"What!" he said; "with your own hands?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; with my own hands. When he would not do justice to my baby, +when he talked of that other being the head of his house, I did it, +with my own hands,—during the night."</p> + +<p>"And you wrote the names,—yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I wrote them all." And then there was again silence in the +room; but she still stood, leaning on the table, waiting for him to +speak her doom.</p> + +<p>He turned away from the spot in which he had confronted her and +walked to the window. What was he to do? How was he to help her? And +how was he to be rid of her? How was he to save his daughter from +further contact with a woman such as this? And how was he to bid his +daughter behave to this woman as one woman should behave to another +in her misery? Then too he had learned to love her himself,—had +yearned to call her his own; and though this in truth was a minor +sorrow, it was one which at the moment added bitterness to the +others. But there she stood, still waiting her doom, and it was +necessary that that doom should be spoken by him.</p> + +<p>"If this can really be true—"</p> + +<p>"It is true. You do not think that a woman would falsely tell such a +tale as that against herself!"</p> + +<p>"Then I fear—that this must be over between you and me."</p> + +<p>There was a relief to her, a sort of relief, in those words. The doom +as so far spoken was so much a matter of course that it conveyed no +penalty. Her story had been told in order that that result might be +attained with certainty. There was almost a tone of scorn in her +voice as she said, "Oh yes; all that must be over."</p> + +<p>"And what next would you have me do?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to request," she said. "If you must tell it to all +the world, do so."</p> + +<p>"Tell it; no. It will not be my business to be an informer."</p> + +<p>"But you must tell it. There is Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"Yes: to Edith!"</p> + +<p>"And I must leave the house. Oh, where shall I go when he knows it? +And where will he go?" Wretched miserable woman, but yet so worthy of +pity! What a terrible retribution for that night's work was now +coming on her!</p> + +<p>He again walked to the window to think how he might answer these +questions. Must he tell his daughter? Must he banish this criminal at +once from his house? Every one now had been told of his intended +marriage; every one had been told through Lord Alston, Mr. Furnival, +and such as they. That at any rate must now be untold. And would it +be possible that she should remain there, living with them at The +Cleeve, while all this was being done? In truth he did not know how +to speak. He had not hardness of heart to pronounce her doom.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall leave the house," she said, with something almost +of pride in her voice. "If there be no place open to me but a gaol I +will do that. Perhaps I had better go now and get my things removed +at once. Say a word of love for me to her;—a word of respectful +love." And she moved as though she were going to the door.</p> + +<p>But he would not permit her to leave him thus. He could not let the +poor, crushed, broken creature wander forth in her agony to bruise +herself at every turn, and to be alone in her despair. She was still +the woman whom he had loved; and, over and beyond that, was she not +the woman who had saved him from a terrible downfall by rushing +herself into utter ruin for his sake? He must take some steps in her +behalf—if he could only resolve what those steps should be. She was +moving to the door, but stopping her, he took her by the hand. "You +did it," he said, "and he, your husband, knew nothing of it?" The +fact itself was so wonderful, that he had hardly as yet made even +that all his own.</p> + +<p>"I did it, and he knew nothing of it. I will go now, Sir Peregrine; I +am strong enough."</p> + +<p>"But where will you go?"</p> + +<p>"Ah me, where shall I go?" And she put the hand which was at liberty +up to her temple, brushing back her hair as though she might thus +collect her thoughts. "Where shall I go? But he does not know it yet. +I will go now to Orley Farm. When must he be told? Tell me that. When +must he know it?"</p> + +<p>"No, Lady Mason; you cannot go there to-day. It's very hard to say +what you had better do."</p> + +<p>"Very hard," she echoed, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"But you must remain here at present;—at The Cleeve I mean; at any +rate for to-day. I will think about it. I will endeavour to think +what may be the best."</p> + +<p>"But—we cannot meet now. She and I;—Mrs. Orme?" And then again he +was silent; for in truth the difficulties were too many for him. +Might it not be best that she should counterfeit illness and be +confined to her own room? But then he was averse to recommend any +counterfeit; and if Mrs. Orme did not go to her in her assumed +illness, the counterfeit would utterly fail of effect in the +household. And then, should he tell Mrs. Orme? The weight of these +tidings would be too much for him, if he did not share them with some +one. So he made up his mind that he must tell them to her—though to +no other one.</p> + +<p>"I must tell her," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," she replied; and he felt her hand tremble in his, and +dropped it. He had forgotten that he thus held her as all these +thoughts pressed upon his brain.</p> + +<p>"I will tell it to her, but to no one else. If I might advise you, I +would say that it will be well for you now to take some rest. You are +agitated, <span class="nowrap">and—"</span></p> + +<p>"Agitated! yes. But you are right, Sir Peregrine. I will go at once +to my room. And <span class="nowrap">then—"</span></p> + +<p>"Then, perhaps,—in the course of the morning, you will see me +again."</p> + +<p>"Where?—will you come to me there?"</p> + +<p>"I will see you in her room, in her dressing-room. She will be down +stairs, you know." From which last words the tidings were conveyed to +Lady Mason that she was not to see Mrs. Orme again.</p> + +<p>And then she went, and as she slowly made her way across the hall she +felt that all of evil, all of punishment that she had ever +anticipated, had now fallen upon her. There are periods in the lives +of some of us—I trust but of few—when, with the silent inner voice +of suffering, we call on the mountains to fall and crush us, and on +the earth to gape open and take us in. When, with an agony of +intensity, we wish that our mothers had been barren. In those moments +the poorest and most desolate are objects to us of envy, for their +sufferings can be as nothing to our own. Lady Mason, as she crept +silently across the hall, saw a servant girl pass down towards the +entrance to the kitchen, and would have given all, all that she had +in the world, to have changed places with that girl. But no change +was possible for her. Neither would the mountains crush her, nor +would the earth take her in. There was her burden, and she must bear +it to the end. There was the bed which she had made for herself, and +she must lie upon it. No escape was possible to her. She had herself +mixed the cup, and she must now drink of it to the dregs.</p> + +<p>Slowly and very silently she made her way up to her own room, and +having closed the door behind her sat herself down upon the bed. It +was as yet early in the morning, and the servant had not been in the +chamber. There was no fire there although it was still mid-winter. Of +such details as these Sir Peregrine had remembered nothing when he +recommended her to go to her own room. Nor did she think of them at +first as she placed herself on the bed-side. But soon the bitter air +pierced her through and through, and she shivered with the cold as +she sat there. After a while she got herself a shawl, wrapped it +close around her, and then sat down again. She bethought herself that +she might have to remain in this way for hours, so she rose again and +locked the door. It would add greatly to her immediate misery if the +servants were to come while she was there, and see her in her +wretchedness. Presently the girls did come, and being unable to +obtain entrance were told by Lady Mason that she wanted the chamber +for the present. Whereupon they offered to light the fire, but she +declared that she was not cold. Her teeth were shaking in her head, +but any suffering was better than the suffering of being seen.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill45" id="ill45"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill45.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill45-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lady Mason after her Confession." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lady Mason after her Confession.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill45.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>She did not lie down, or cover herself further than she was covered +with that shawl, nor did she move from her place for more than an +hour. By degrees she became used to the cold. She was numbed, and as +it were, half dead in all her limbs, but she had ceased to shake as +she sat there, and her mind had gone back to the misery of her +position. There was so much for her behind that was worse! What +should she do when even this retirement should not be allowed to her? +Instead of longing for the time when she should be summoned to meet +Sir Peregrine, she dreaded its coming. It would bring her nearer to +that other meeting when she would have to bow her head and crouch +before her son.</p> + +<p>She had been there above an hour and was in truth ill with the cold +when she heard,—and scarcely heard,—a light step come quickly along +the passage towards her door. Her woman's ear instantly told her who +owned that step, and her heart once more rose with hope. Was she +coming there to comfort her, to speak to the poor bruised sinner one +word of feminine sympathy? The quick light step stopped at the door, +there was a pause, and then a low, low knock was heard. Lady Mason +asked no question, but dropping from the bed hurried to the door and +turned the key. She turned the key, and as the door was opened half +hid herself behind it;—and then Mrs. Orme was in the room.</p> + +<p>"What! you have no fire?" she said, feeling that the air struck her +with a sudden chill. "Oh, this is dreadful! My poor, poor dear!" And +then she took hold of both Lady Mason's hands. Had she possessed the +wisdom of the serpent as well as the innocence of the dove she could +not have been wiser in her first mode of addressing the sufferer. For +she knew it all. During that dreadful hour Sir Peregrine had told her +the whole story; and very dreadful that hour had been to her. He, +when he attempted to give counsel in the matter, had utterly failed. +He had not known what to suggest, nor could she say what it might be +wisest for them all to do; but on one point her mind had been at once +resolved. The woman who had once been her friend, whom she had +learned to love, should not leave the house without some sympathy and +womanly care. The guilt was very bad; yes, it was terrible; she +acknowledged that it was a thing to be thought of only with +shuddering. But the guilt of twenty years ago did not strike her +senses so vividly as the abject misery of the present day. There was +no pity in her bosom for Mr. Joseph Mason when she heard the story, +but she was full of pity for her who had committed the crime. It was +twenty years ago, and had not the sinner repented? Besides, was she +to be the judge? "Judge not, and ye shall not be judged," she said, +when she thought that Sir Peregrine spoke somewhat harshly in the +matter. So she said, altogether misinterpreting the Scripture in her +desire to say something in favour of the poor woman.</p> + +<p>But when it was hinted to her that Lady Mason might return to Orley +Farm without being again seen by her, her woman's heart at once +rebelled. "If she has done wrong," said Mrs. +<span class="nowrap">Orme—</span></p> + +<p>"She has done great wrong—fearful wrong," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"It will not hurt me to see her because she has done wrong. Not see +her while she is in the house! If she were in the prison, would I not +go to see her?" And then Sir Peregrine had said no more, but he loved +his daughter-in-law all the better for her unwonted vehemence.</p> + +<p>"You will do what is right," he said—"as you always do." Then he +left her; and she, after standing for a few moments while she shaped +her thoughts, went straight away to Lady Mason's room.</p> + +<p>She took Lady Mason by both her hands and found that they were icy +cold. "Oh, this is dreadful," she said. "Come with me, dear." But +Lady Mason still stood, up by the bed-head, whither she had retreated +from the door. Her eyes were still cast upon the ground and she +leaned back as Mrs. Orme held her, as though by her weight she would +hinder her friend from leading her from the room.</p> + +<p>"You are frightfully cold," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Has he told you?" said Lady Mason, asking the question in the lowest +possible whisper, and still holding back as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Yes; he has told me;—but no one else—no one else." And then for a +few moments nothing was spoken between them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that I could die!" said the poor wretch, expressing in words +that terrible wish that the mountains might fall upon her and crush +her.</p> + +<p>"You must not say that. That would be wicked, you know. He can +comfort you. Do you not know that He will comfort you, if you are +sorry for your sins and go to Him?"</p> + +<p>But the woman in her intense suffering could not acknowledge to +herself any idea of comfort. "Ah, me!" she exclaimed, with a deep +bursting sob which went straight to Mrs. Orme's heart. And then a +convulsive fit of trembling seized her so strongly that Mrs. Orme +could hardly continue to hold her hands.</p> + +<p>"You are ill with the cold," she said. "Come with me, Lady Mason, you +shall not stay here longer."</p> + +<p>Lady Mason then permitted herself to be led out of the room, and the +two went quickly down the passage to the head of the front stairs, +and from thence to Mrs. Orme's room. In crossing the house they had +seen no one and been seen by no one; and Lady Mason when she came to +the door hurried in, that she might again hide herself in security +for the moment. As soon as the door was closed Mrs. Orme placed her +in an arm-chair which she wheeled up to the front of the fire, and +seating herself on a stool at the poor sinner's feet, chafed her +hands within her own. She took away the shawl and made her stretch +out her feet towards the fire, and thus seated close to her, she +spoke no word for the next half-hour as to the terrible fact that had +become known to her. Then, on a sudden, as though the ice of her +heart had thawed from the warmth of the other's kindness, Lady Mason +burst into a flood of tears, and flinging herself upon her friend's +neck and bosom begged with earnest piteousness to be forgiven.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Orme did forgive her. Many will think that she was wrong to +do so, and I fear it must be acknowledged that she was not strong +minded. By forgiving her I do not mean that she pronounced absolution +for the sin of past years, or that she endeavoured to make the sinner +think that she was no worse for her sin. Mrs. Orme was a good +churchwoman but not strong, individually, in points of doctrine. All +that she left mainly to the woman's conscience and her own dealings +with her Saviour,—merely saying a word of salutary counsel as to a +certain spiritual pastor who might be of aid. But Mrs. Orme forgave +her,—as regarded herself. She had already, while all this was +unknown, taken this woman to her heart as pure and good. It now +appeared that the woman had not been pure, had not been good!—And +then she took her to her heart again! Criminal as the woman was, +disgraced and debased, subject almost to the heaviest penalties of +outraged law and justice, a felon against whom the actual hands of +the law's myrmidons would probably soon prevail, a creature doomed to +bear the scorn of the lowest of her fellow-creatures,—such as she +was, this other woman, pure and high, so shielded from the world's +impurity that nothing ignoble might touch her,—this lady took her to +her heart again and promised in her ear with low sweet words of +consolation that they should still be friends. I cannot say that Mrs. +Orme was right. That she was weak minded I feel nearly certain. But, +perhaps, this weakness of mind may never be brought against her to +her injury, either in this world or in the next.</p> + +<p>I will not pretend to give the words which passed between them at +that interview. After a while Lady Mason allowed herself to be guided +all in all by her friend's advice as though she herself had been a +child. It was decided that for the present,—that is for the next day +or two,—Lady Mason should keep her room at The Cleeve as an invalid. +Counterfeit in this there would be none certainly, for indeed she was +hardly fit for any place but her own bed. If inclined and able to +leave her room, she should be made welcome to the use of Mrs. Orme's +dressing-room. It would only be necessary to warn Peregrine that for +the present he must abstain from coming there. The servants, Mrs. +Orme said, had heard of their master's intended marriage. They would +now hear that this intention had been abandoned. On this they would +put their own construction, and would account in their own fashion +for the fact that Sir Peregrine and his guest no longer saw each +other. But no suspicion of the truth would get abroad when it was +seen that Lady Mason was still treated as a guest at The Cleeve. As +to such future steps as might be necessary to be taken, Mrs. Orme +would consult with Sir Peregrine, and tell Lady Mason from time to +time. And as for the sad truth, the terrible truth,—that, at any +rate for the present, should be told to no other ears. And so the +whole morning was spent, and Mrs. Orme saw neither Sir Peregrine nor +her son till she went down to the library in the first gloom of the +winter evening.</p> + + +<p><a name="c46" id="c46"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLVI.</h4> +<h3>A WOMAN'S IDEA OF FRIENDSHIP.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Sir Peregrine after the hour that he had spent with his +daughter-in-law,—that terrible hour during which Lady Mason had sat +alone on the bed-side,—returned to the library and remained there +during the whole of the afternoon. It may be remembered that he had +agreed to ride through the woods with his grandson; but that purpose +had been abandoned early in the day, and Peregrine had in consequence +been hanging about the house. He soon perceived that something was +amiss, but he did not know what. He had looked for his mother, and +had indeed seen her for a moment at her door; but she had told him +that she could not then speak to him. Sir Peregrine also had shut +himself up, but about the hour of dusk he sent for his grandson; and +when Mrs. Orme, on leaving Lady Mason, went down to the library, she +found them both together.</p> + +<p>They were standing with their backs to the fire, and the gloom in the +room was too dark to allow of their faces being seen, but she felt +that the conversation between them was of a serious nature. Indeed +what conversation in that house could be other than serious on that +day? "I see that I am disturbing you," she said, preparing to +retreat. "I did not know that you were together."</p> + +<p>"Do not go, Edith," said the old man. "Peregrine, put a chair for +your mother. I have told him that all this is over now between me and +Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>She trembled as she heard the words, for it seemed to her that there +must be danger now in even speaking of Lady Mason,—danger with +reference to that dreadful secret, the divulging of which would be so +fatal.</p> + +<p>"I have told him," continued Sir Peregrine, "that for a few minutes I +was angry with him when I heard from Lady Mason that he had spoken to +her; but I believe that on the whole it is better that it should have +been so."</p> + +<p>"He would be very unhappy if anything that he had done had distressed +you," said Mrs. Orme, hardly knowing what words to use, or how to +speak. Nor did she feel quite certain as yet how much had been told +to her son, and how much was concealed from him.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," said the old man, laying his arm affectionately on the +young man's shoulder. "He has done nothing to distress me. There is +nothing wrong—nothing wrong between him and me. Thank God for that. +But, Perry, we will think now of that other matter. Have you told +your mother anything about it?" And he strove to look away from the +wretchedness of his morning's work to something in his family that +still admitted of a bright hope.</p> + +<p>"No, sir; not yet. We won't mind that just now." And then they all +remained silent, Mrs. Orme sitting, and the two men still standing +with their backs towards the fire. Her mind was too intent on the +unfortunate lady up stairs to admit of her feeling interest in that +other unknown matter to which Sir Peregrine had alluded.</p> + +<p>"If you have done with Perry," she said at last, "I would be glad to +speak to you for a minute or two."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Peregrine;—"we have done." And then he went.</p> + +<p>"You have told him," said she, as soon as they were left together.</p> + +<p>"Told him; what, of her? Oh no. I have told him that that,—that idea +of mine has been abandoned." From this time forth Sir Peregrine could +never endure to speak of his proposed marriage, nor to hear it spoken +of. "He conceives that this has been done at her instance," he +continued.</p> + +<p>"And so it has," said Mrs. Orme, with much more of decision in her +voice than was customary with her.</p> + +<p>"And so it has," he repeated after her.</p> + +<p>"Nobody must know of this,"—said she very solemnly, standing up and +looking into his face with eager eyes. "Nobody but you and I."</p> + +<p>"All the world, I fear, will know it soon," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"No; no. Why should all the world know it? Had she not told us we +should not have known it. We should not have suspected it. Mr. +Furnival, who understands these things;—he does not think her +guilty."</p> + +<p>"But, Edith—the property!"</p> + +<p>"Let her give that up—after a while; when all this has passed by. +That man is not in want. It will not hurt him to be without it a +little longer. It will be enough for her to do that when this trial +shall be over."</p> + +<p>"But it is not hers. She cannot give it up. It belongs to her +son,—or is thought to belong to him. It is not for us to be +informers, <span class="nowrap">Edith—"</span></p> + +<p>"No, no; it is not for us to be informers. We must remember that."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. It is not for us to tell the story of her guilt; but her +guilt will remain the same, will be acted over and over again every +day, while the proceeds of the property go into the hands of Lucius +Mason. It is that which is so terrible, Edith;—that her conscience +should have been able to bear that load for the last twenty years! A +deed done,—that admits of no restitution, may admit of repentance. +We may leave that to the sinner and his conscience, hoping that he +stands right with his Maker. But here, with her, there has been a +continual theft going on from year to year,—which is still going on. +While Lucius Mason holds a sod of Orley Farm, true repentance with +her must be impossible. It seems so to me." And Sir Peregrine +shuddered at the doom which his own rectitude of mind and purpose +forced him to pronounce.</p> + +<p>"It is not she that has it," said Mrs. Orme. "It was not done for +herself."</p> + +<p>"There is no difference in that," said he sharply. "All sin is +selfish, and so was her sin in this. Her object was the +aggrandisement of her own child; and when she could not accomplish +that honestly, she did it by fraud, +and—and—<span class="nowrap">and—.</span> Edith, my dear, +you and I must look at this thing as it is. You must not let your +kind heart make your eyes blind in a matter of such moment."</p> + +<p>"No, father; nor must the truth make our hearts cruel. You talk of +restitution and repentance. Repentance is not the work of a day. How +are we to say by what struggles her poor heart has been torn?"</p> + +<p>"I do not judge her."</p> + +<p>"No, no; that is it. We may not judge her; may we? But we may assist +her in her wretchedness. I have promised that I will do all I can to +aid her. You will allow me to do so;—you will; will you not?" And +she pressed his arm and looked up into his face, entreating him. +Since first they two had known each other, he had never yet denied +her a request. It was a law of his life that he would never do so. +But now he hesitated, not thinking that he would refuse her, but +feeling that on such an occasion it would be necessary to point out +to her how far she might go without risk of bringing censure on her +own name. But in this case, though the mind of Sir Peregrine might be +the more logical, the purpose of his daughter-in-law was the +stronger. She had resolved that such communication with crime would +not stain her, and she already knew to what length she would go in +her charity. Indeed, her mind was fully resolved to go far enough.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know as yet what she intends to do; any assistance that you +can give her must, I should say, depend on her own line of conduct."</p> + +<p>"But I want your advice as to that. I tell you what I purpose. It is +clear that Mr. Furnival thinks she will gain the day at this trial."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Furnival does not know the truth."</p> + +<p>"Nor will the judge and the lawyers, and all the rest. As you say so +properly, it is not for us to be the informers. If they can prove it, +let them. But you would not have her tell them all against herself?" +And then she paused, waiting for his answer.</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I do not know what to say. It is not for me to advise +her."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but it is for you," she said; and as she spoke she put her +little hand down on the table with an energy which startled him. "She +is here—a wretched woman, in your house. And why do you know the +truth? Why has it been told to you and me? Because without telling it +she could not turn you from that purpose of yours. It was generous, +father—confess that; it was very generous."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was generous," said Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"It was very generous. It would be base in us if we allowed ourselves +to forget that. But I was telling you my plan. She must go to this +trial."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; there will be no doubt as to that."</p> + +<p>"Then—if she can escape, let the property be given up afterwards."</p> + +<p>"I do not see how it is to be arranged. The property will belong to +Lucius, and she cannot give it up then. It is not so easy to put +matters right when guilt and fraud have set them wrong."</p> + +<p>"We will do the best we can. Even suppose that you were to tell +Lucius afterwards;—you yourself! if that were necessary, you know."</p> + +<p>And so by degrees she talked him over; but yet he would come to no +decision as to what steps he himself must take. What if he himself +should go to Mr. Round, and pledge himself that the whole estate +should be restored to Mr. Mason of Groby, on condition that the trial +were abandoned? The world would probably guess the truth after that; +but the terrible trial and the more terrible punishment which would +follow it might be thus escaped. Poor Sir Peregrine! Even when he +argued thus within himself, his conscience told him that in taking +such a line of conduct, he himself would be guilty of some outrage +against the law by aiding a criminal in her escape. He had heard of +misprision of felony; but nevertheless, he allowed his +daughter-in-law to prevail. Before such a step as this could be taken +the consent of Lady Mason must of course be obtained; but as to that +Mrs. Orme had no doubt. If Lucius could be induced to abandon the +property without hearing the whole story, it would be well. But if +that could not be achieved,—then the whole story must be told to +him. "And you will tell it," Mrs. Orme said to him. "It would be +easier for me to cut off my right arm," he answered; "but I will do +my best."</p> + +<p>And then came the question as to the place of Lady Mason's immediate +residence. It was evident to Mrs. Orme that Sir Peregrine expected +that she would at once go back to Orley Farm;—not exactly on that +day, nor did he say on the day following. But his words made it very +manifest that he did not think it right that she should under +existing circumstances remain at The Cleeve. Sir Peregrine, however, +as quickly understood that Mrs. Orme did not wish her to go away for +some days.</p> + +<p>"It would injure the cause if she were to leave us quite at once," +said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"But how can she stay here, my dear,—with no one to see her; with +none but the servants to wait upon her?"</p> + +<p>"I should see her," said Mrs. Orme, boldly.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean constantly—in your old, friendly way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, constantly; and," she added after a pause, "not only here, but +at Orley Farm also." And then there was another pause between them.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine certainly was not a cruel man, nor was his heart by any +means hardened against the lady with whom circumstances had lately +joined him so closely. Indeed, since the knowledge of her guilt had +fully come upon him, he had undertaken the conduct of her perilous +affairs in a manner more confidential even than that which had +existed while he expected to make her his wife. But, nevertheless, it +went sorely against the grain with him when it was proposed that +there should still exist a close intimacy between the one cherished +lady of his household and the woman who had been guilty of so base a +crime. It seemed to him that he might touch pitch and not be +defiled;—he or any man belonging to him. But he could not reconcile +it to himself that the widow of his son should run such risk. In his +estimation there was something almost more than human about the +purity of the only woman that blessed his hearth. It seemed to him as +though she were a sacred thing, to be guarded by a shrine,—to be +protected from all contact with the pollutions of the outer world. +And now it was proposed to him that she should take a felon to her +bosom as her friend!</p> + +<p>"But will that be necessary, Edith?" he said; "and after all that has +been revealed to us now, will it be wise?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," she said, speaking again with a very low voice. "Why, +should I not?"</p> + +<p>"Because she has shown herself unworthy of such friendship;—unfit +for it I should say."</p> + +<p>"Unworthy! Dear father, is she not as worthy and as fit as she was +yesterday? If we saw clearly into each other's bosom, whom should we +think worthy?"</p> + +<p>"But you would not choose for your friend one—one who could do such +a deed as that?"</p> + +<p>"No; I would not choose her because she had so acted; nor perhaps if +I knew all beforehand would I open my heart to one who had so done. +But it is different now. What are love and friendship worth if they +cannot stand against such trials as these?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean, Edith, that no crime would separate you from a friend?"</p> + +<p>"I have not said that. There are circumstances always. But if she +repents,—as I am sure she does, I cannot bring myself to desert her. +Who else is there that can stand by her now; what other woman? At any +rate I have promised her, and you would not have me break my word."</p> + +<p>Thus she again gained her point, and it was settled that for the +present Lady Mason should be allowed to occupy her own room,—her own +room, and occasionally Mrs. Orme's sitting-room, if it pleased her to +do so. No day was named for her removal, but, Mrs. Orme perfectly +understood that the sooner such a day could be fixed the better Sir +Peregrine would be pleased. And, indeed, his household as at present +arranged was not a pleasant one. The servants had all heard of his +intended marriage, and now they must also hear that that intention +was abandoned. And yet the lady would remain up stairs as a guest of +his! There was much in this that was inconvenient; but under +circumstances as they now existed, what could he do?</p> + +<p>When all this was arranged and Mrs. Orme had dressed for dinner, she +again went to Lady Mason. She found her in bed, and told her that at +night she would come to her and tell her all. And then she instructed +her own servant as to attending upon the invalid. In doing this she +was cunning in letting a word fall here and there, that might teach +the woman that that marriage purpose was all over; but nevertheless +there was so much care and apparent affection in her mode of +speaking, and she gave her orders for Lady Mason's comfort with so +much earnestness, that no idea could get abroad in the household that +there had been any cause for absolute quarrel.</p> + +<p>Late at night, when her son had left her, she did go again to her +guest's room, and sitting down by the bed-side she told her all that +had been planned, pointing out however with much care that, as a part +of those plans, Orley Farm was to be surrendered to Joseph Mason. +"You think that is right; do you not?" said Mrs. Orme, almost +trembling as she asked a question so pertinent to the deed which the +other had done, and to that repentance for the deed which was now so +much to be desired.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other, "of course it will be right." And then the +thought that it was not in her power to abandon the property occurred +to her also. If the estate must be voluntarily surrendered, no one +could so surrender it but Lucius Mason. She knew this, and felt at +the moment that of all men he would be the least likely to do so, +unless an adequate reason was made clearly plain to him. The same +thought at the same moment was passing through the minds of them +both; but Lady Mason could not speak out her thought, and Mrs. Orme +would not say more on that terrible day to trouble the mind of the +poor creature whose sufferings she was so anxious to assuage.</p> + +<p>And then Lady Mason was left alone, and having now a partner in her +secret, slept sounder than she had done since the tidings first +reached her of Mr. Dockwrath's vengeance.</p> + + +<p><a name="c47" id="c47"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLVII.</h4> +<h3>THE GEM OF THE FOUR FAMILIES.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>And now we will go back to Noningsby. On that evening Graham ate his +pheasant with a relish although so many cares sat heavy on his mind, +and declared, to Mrs. Baker's great satisfaction, that the cook had +managed to preserve the bread sauce uninjured through all the perils +of delay which it had encountered.</p> + +<p>"Bread sauce is so ticklish; a simmer too much and it's clean done +for," Mrs. Baker said with a voice of great solicitude. But she had +been accustomed perhaps to patients whose appetites were fastidious. +The pheasant and the bread sauce and the mashed potatoes, all +prepared by Mrs. Baker's own hands to be eaten as spoon meat, +disappeared with great celerity; and then, as Graham sat sipping the +solitary glass of sherry that was allowed to him, meditating that he +would begin his letter the moment the glass was empty, Augustus +Staveley again made his appearance.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill47" id="ill47"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill47.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill47-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Bread Sauce is so ticklish."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Bread Sauce is so ticklish."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill47.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Well, old fellow," said he, "how are you now?" and he was +particularly careful so to speak as to show by his voice that his +affection for his friend was as strong as ever. But in doing so he +showed also that there was some special thought still present in his +mind,—some feeling which was serious in its nature if not absolutely +painful.</p> + +<p>"Staveley," said the other, gravely, "I have acquired knowledge +to-day which I trust I may carry with me to my grave."</p> + +<p>"And what is that?" said Augustus, looking round to Mrs. Baker as +though he thought it well that she should be out of the room before +the expected communication was made. But Mrs. Baker's attention was +so riveted by her patient's earnestness, that she made no attempt to +go.</p> + +<p>"It is a wasting of the best gifts of Providence," said Graham, "to +eat a pheasant after one has really done one's dinner."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"So it is, sir," said Mrs. Baker, thinking that the subject quite +justified the manner.</p> + +<p>"And of no use whatsoever to eat only a little bit of one as a man +does then. To know what a pheasant is you should have it all to +yourself."</p> + +<p>"So you should, sir," said Mrs. Baker, quite delighted and very much +in earnest.</p> + +<p>"And you should have nothing else. Then, if the bird be good to begin +with, and has been well <span class="nowrap">hung—"</span></p> + +<p>"There's a deal in that," said Mrs. Baker.</p> + +<p>"Then, I say, you'll know what a pheasant is. That's the lesson which +I have learned to-day, and I give it you as an adequate return for +the pheasant itself."</p> + +<p>"I was almost afeard it would be spoilt by being brought up the +second time," said Mrs. Baker. "And so I said to my lady; but she +wouldn't have you woke, nohow." And then Mrs. Baker, having heard the +last of the lecture, took away the empty wine-glass and shut the door +behind her.</p> + +<p>"And now I'll write those two letters," said Graham. "What I've +written hitherto I wrote in bed, and I feel almost more awkward now I +am up than I did then."</p> + +<p>"But what letters are they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, one to my laundress to tell her I shall be there to-morrow, +and one to Mary Snow to say that I'll see her the day after."</p> + +<p>"Then, Felix, don't trouble yourself to write either. You positively +won't go <span class="nowrap">to-morrow—"</span></p> + +<p>"Who says so?"</p> + +<p>"The governor. He has heard from my mother exactly what the doctor +said, and declares that he won't allow it. He means to see the doctor +himself before you stir. And he wants to see you also. I am to tell +you he'll come to you directly after breakfast."</p> + +<p>"I shall be delighted to see your father, and am very much gratified +by his kindness, <span class="nowrap">but—"</span></p> + +<p>"But what—"</p> + +<p>"I'm a free agent, I suppose,—to go when I please?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. The law is unwritten; but by traditional law a man laid +up in his bedroom is not free to go and come. No action for false +imprisonment would lie if Mrs. Baker kept all your clothes away from +you."</p> + +<p>"I should like to try the question."</p> + +<p>"You will have the opportunity, for you may be sure that you'll not +leave this to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"It would depend altogether on the evidence of the doctor."</p> + +<p>"Exactly so. And as the doctor in this case would clearly be on the +side of the defendants, a verdict on behalf of the plaintiff would +not be by any means attainable." After that the matter was presumed +to be settled, and Graham said no more as to leaving Noningsby on the +next day. As things turned out afterwards he remained there for +another week.</p> + +<p>"I must at any rate write a letter to Mary Snow," he said. And to +Mary Snow he did write some three or four lines, Augustus sitting by +the while. Augustus Staveley would have been very glad to know the +contents, or rather the spirit of those lines; but nothing was said +about them, and the letter was at last sealed up and intrusted to his +care for the post-bag. There was very little in it that could have +interested Augustus Staveley or any one else. It contained the +ordinary, but no more than the ordinary terms of affection. He told +her that he found it impracticable to move himself quite immediately. +And then as to that cause of displeasure,—that cause of supposed +displeasure as to which both Mary and Mrs. Thomas had written, he +declared that he did not believe that anything had been done that he +should not find it easy to forgive after so long an absence.</p> + +<p>Augustus then remained there for another hour, but not a word was +said between the young men on that subject which was nearest, at the +moment, to the hearts of both of them. Each was thinking of Madeline, +but neither of them spoke as though any such subject were in their +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Heaven and earth!" said Augustus at last, pulling out his watch. "It +only wants three minutes to seven. I shall have a dozen messages from +the judge before I get down, to know whether he shall come and help +me change my boots. I'll see you again before I go to bed. Good-bye, +old fellow." And then Graham was again alone.</p> + +<p>If Lady Staveley were really angry with him for loving her +daughter,—if his friend Staveley were in very truth determined that +such love must under no circumstances be sanctioned,—would they +treat him as they were treating him? Would they under such +circumstances make his prolonged stay in the house an imperative +necessity? He could not help asking himself this question, and +answering it with some gleam of hope. And then he acknowledged to +himself that it was ungenerous in him to do so. His remaining +there,—the liberty to remain there which had been conceded to +him,—had arisen solely from the belief that a removal in his present +state would be injudicious. He assured himself of this over and over +again, so that no false hope might linger in his heart. And yet hope +did linger there whether false or true. Why might he not aspire to +the hand of Madeline Staveley,—he who had been assured that he need +regard no woman as too high for his aspirations?</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Baker," he said that evening, as that excellent woman was +taking away his tea-things, "I have not heard Miss Staveley's voice +these two days."</p> + +<p>"Well, no; no more you have," said she. "There's two ways, you know, +Mr. Graham, of going to her part of the house. There's the door that +opens at the end of the passage by her mamma's room. She's been that +way, and that's the reason, I suppose. There ain't no other, I'm +sure."</p> + +<p>"One likes to hear one's friends if one can't see them; that's all."</p> + +<p>"To be sure one does. I remember as how when I had the measles—I was +living with my lady's mother, as maid to the young ladies. There was +four of 'em, and I dressed 'em all—God bless 'em. They've all got +husbands now and grown families—only there ain't one among 'em equal +to our Miss Madeline, though there's some of 'em much richer. When my +lady married him,—the judge, you know,—he was the poorest of the +lot. They didn't think so much of him when he came a-courting in +those days."</p> + +<p>"He was only a practising barrister then."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; he knew well how to practise, for Miss Isabella—as she was +then—very soon made up her mind about him. Laws, Mr. Graham, she +used to tell me everything in them days. They didn't want her to have +nothing to say to Mr. Staveley at first; but she made up her mind, +and though she wasn't one of them as has many words, like Miss +Furnival down there, there was no turning her."</p> + +<p>"Did she marry at last against their wish?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no; nothing of that sort. She wasn't one of them flighty +ones neither. She just made up her own mind and bided. And now I +don't know whether she hasn't done about the best of 'em all. Them +Oliphants is full of money, they do say—full of money. That was Miss +Louisa, who came next. But, Lord love you, Mr. Graham, he's so +crammed with gout as he can't ever put a foot to the ground; and as +cross;—as cross as cross. We goes there sometimes, you know. Then +the girls is all plain; and young Mr. Oliphant, the son,—why he +never so much as speaks to his own father; and though they're rolling +in money, they say he can't pay for the coat on his back. Now our Mr. +Augustus, unless it is that he won't come down to morning prayers and +always keeps the dinner waiting, I don't think there's ever a black +look between him and his papa. And as for Miss Madeline,—she's the +gem of the four families. Everybody gives that up to her."</p> + +<p>If Madeline's mother married a barrister in opposition to the wishes +of her family—a barrister who then possessed nothing but his +wits—why should not Madeline do so also? That was of course the line +which his thoughts took. But then, as he said to himself, Madeline's +father had been one of the handsomest men of his day, whereas he was +one of the ugliest; and Madeline's father had been encumbered with no +Mary Snow. A man who had been such a fool as he, who had gone so far +out of the regular course, thinking to be wiser than other men, but +being in truth much more silly, could not look for that success and +happiness in life which men enjoy who have not been so lamentably +deficient in discretion! 'Twas thus that he lectured himself; but +still he went on thinking of Madeline Staveley.</p> + +<p>There had been some disagreeable confusion in the house that +afternoon after Augustus had spoken to his sister. Madeline had gone +up to her own room, and had remained there, chewing the cud of her +thoughts. Both her sister and her brother had warned her about this +man. She could moreover divine that her mother was suffering under +some anxiety on the same subject. Why was all this? Why should these +things be said and thought? Why should there be uneasiness in the +house on her account in this matter of Mr. Graham? She acknowledged +to herself that there was such uneasiness;—and she almost +acknowledged to herself the cause.</p> + +<p>But while she was still sitting over her own fire, with her needle +untouched beside her, her father had come home, and Lady Staveley had +mentioned to him that Mr. Graham thought of going on the next day.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, my dear," said the judge. "He must not think of such a +thing. He can hardly be fit to leave his room yet."</p> + +<p>"Pottinger does say that it has gone on very favourably," pleaded +Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"But that's no reason he should destroy the advantages of his healthy +constitution by insane imprudence. He's got nothing to do. He wants +to go merely because he thinks he is in your way."</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley looked wishfully up in her husband's face, longing to +tell him all her suspicions. But as yet her grounds for them were so +slight that even to him she hesitated to mention them.</p> + +<p>"His being here is no trouble to me, of course," she said.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. You tell him so, and he'll stay," said the judge. "I +want to see him to-morrow myself;—about this business of poor Lady +Mason's."</p> + +<p>Immediately after that he met his son. And Augustus also told him +that Graham was going.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; he's not going at all," said the judge. "I've settled that +with your mother."</p> + +<p>"He's very anxious to be off," said Augustus gravely.</p> + +<p>"And why? Is there any reason?"</p> + +<p>"Well; I don't know." For a moment he thought he would tell his +father the whole story; but he reflected that his doing so would be +hardly fair towards his friend. "I don't know that there is any +absolute reason; but I'm quite sure that he is very anxious to go."</p> + +<p>The judge at once perceived that there was something in the wind, and +during that hour in which the pheasant was being discussed up in +Graham's room, he succeeded in learning the whole from his wife. +Dear, good, loving wife! A secret of any kind from him was an +impossibility to her, although that secret went no further than her +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"The darling girl is so anxious about him, that—that I'm afraid," +said she.</p> + +<p>"He's by no means a bad sort of man, my love," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"But he's got nothing—literally nothing," said the mother.</p> + +<p>"Neither had I, when I went a wooing," said the judge. "But, +nevertheless, I managed to have it all my own way."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean really to make a comparison?" said Lady Staveley. "In +the first place you were at the top of your profession."</p> + +<p>"Was I? If so I must have achieved that distinction at a very early +age." And then he kissed his wife very affectionately. Nobody was +there to see, and under such circumstances a man may kiss his wife +even though he be a judge, and between fifty and sixty years old. +After that he again spoke to his son, and in spite of the resolves +which Augustus had made as to what friendship required of him, +succeeded in learning the whole truth.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening, when all the party had drunk their cups of tea, +when Lady Staveley was beginning her nap, and Augustus was making +himself agreeable to Miss Furnival—to the great annoyance of his +mother, who half rousing herself every now and then, looked +sorrowfully at what was going on with her winking eyes,—the judge +contrived to withdraw with Madeline into the small drawing-room, +telling her as he put his arm around her waist, that he had a few +words to say to her.</p> + +<p>"Well, papa," said she, as at his bidding she sat herself down beside +him on the sofa. She was frightened, because such summonses were very +unusual; but nevertheless her father's manner towards her was always +so full of love that even in her fear she felt a comfort in being +with him.</p> + +<p>"My darling," he said, "I want to ask you one or two questions—about +our guest here who has hurt himself,—Mr. Graham."</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa." And now she knew that she was trembling with nervous +dread.</p> + +<p>"You need not think that I am in the least angry with you, or that I +suspect you of having done or said, or even thought anything that is +wrong. I feel quite confident that I have no cause to do so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, papa."</p> + +<p>"But I want to know whether Mr. Graham has ever spoken to you—as a +lover."</p> + +<p>"Never, papa."</p> + +<p>"Because under the circumstances of his present stay here, his doing +so would, I think, have been ungenerous."</p> + +<p>"He never has, papa, in any way—not a single word."</p> + +<p>"And you have no reason to regard him in that light."</p> + +<p>"No, papa." But in the speaking of these last two words there was a +slight hesitation,—the least possible shade of doubt conveyed, which +made itself immediately intelligible to the practised ear of the +judge.</p> + +<p>"Tell me all, my darling;—everything that there is in your heart, so +that we may help each other if that may be possible."</p> + +<p>"He has never said anything to me, papa."</p> + +<p>"Because your mamma thinks that you are more anxious about him than +you would be about an ordinary visitor."</p> + +<p>"Does she?"</p> + +<p>"Has any one else spoken to you about Mr. Graham?"</p> + +<p>"Augustus did, papa; and Isabella, some time ago."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose they thought the same."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I suppose they did."</p> + +<p>"And now, dear, is there anything else you would like to say to me +about it?"</p> + +<p>"No, papa, I don't think there is."</p> + +<p>"But remember this always;—that my only wishes respecting you, and +your mother's wishes also, are to see you happy and good."</p> + +<p>"I am very happy, papa."</p> + +<p>"And very good also to the best of my belief." And then he kissed +her, and they went back again into the large drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Many of my readers, and especially those who are old and wise,—if I +chance to have any such,—will be inclined to think that the judge +behaved foolishly in thus cross-questioning his daughter on a matter, +which, if it were expedient that it should die away, would die away +the more easily the less it were talked about. But the judge was an +odd man in many of the theories of his life. One of them, with +reference to his children, was very odd, and altogether opposed to +the usual practice of the world. It was this,—that they should be +allowed, as far as was practicable, to do what they liked. Now the +general opinion of the world is certainly quite the reverse—namely +this, that children, as long as they are under the control of their +parents, should be hindered and prevented in those things to which +they are most inclined. Of course the world in general, in carrying +out this practice, excuses it by an assertion,—made to themselves or +others,—that children customarily like those things which they ought +not to like. But the judge had an idea quite opposed to this. +Children, he said, if properly trained would like those things which +were good for them. Now it may be that he thought his daughter had +been properly trained.</p> + +<p>"He is a very clever young man, my dear; you may be sure of that," +were the last words which the judge said to his wife that night.</p> + +<p>"But then he has got nothing," she replied; "and he is so uncommonly +plain."</p> + +<p>The judge would not say a word more, but he could not help thinking +that this last point was one which might certainly be left to the +young lady.</p> + + +<p><a name="c48" id="c48"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h4> +<h3>THE ANGEL OF LIGHT UNDER A CLOUD.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the following morning, according to appointment, the judge visited +Felix Graham in his room. It was only the second occasion on which he +had done so since the accident, and he was therefore more inclined to +regard him as an invalid than those who had seen him from day to day.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted to hear that your bones have been so amenable," said +the judge. "But you must not try them too far. We'll get you down +stairs into the drawing-room, and see how you get on there by the +next few days."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to trouble you more than I can help," said Felix, +sheepishly. He knew that there were reasons why he should not go into +that drawing-room, but of course he could not guess that those +reasons were as well known to the judge as they were to himself.</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't trouble us—more than you can help. I am not one of +those men who tell my friends that nothing is a trouble. Of course +you give trouble."</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry!"</p> + +<p>"There's your bed to make, my dear fellow, and your gruel to warm. +You know Shakspeare pretty well by heart I believe, and he puts that +matter,—as he did every other matter,—in the best and truest point +of view. Lady Macbeth didn't say she had no labour in receiving the +king. 'The labour we delight in physics pain,' she said. Those were +her words, and now they are mine."</p> + +<p>"With a more honest purpose behind," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; I've no murder in my thoughts at present. So that is all +settled, and Lady Staveley will be delighted to see you down stairs +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I shall be only too happy," Felix answered, thinking within his own +mind that he must settle it all in the course of the day with +Augustus.</p> + +<p>"And now perhaps you will be strong enough to say a few words about +business."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"You have heard of this Orley Farm case, in which our neighbour Lady +Mason is concerned."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; we were all talking of it at your table;—I think it was the +night, or a night or two, before my accident."</p> + +<p>"Very well; then you know all about it. At least as much as the +public knows generally. It has now been decided on the part of Joseph +Mason,—the husband's eldest son, who is endeavouring to get the +property,—that she shall be indicted for perjury."</p> + +<p>"For perjury!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and in doing that, regarding the matter from his point of view, +they are not deficient in judgment."</p> + +<p>"But how could she have been guilty of perjury?"</p> + +<p>"In swearing that she had been present when her husband and the three +witnesses executed the deed. If they have any ground to stand on—and +I believe they have none whatever, but if they have, they would much +more easily get a verdict against her on that point than on a charge +of forgery. Supposing it to be the fact that her husband never +executed such a deed, it would be manifest that she must have sworn +falsely in swearing that she saw him do so."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; one would say so."</p> + +<p>"But that would afford by no means conclusive evidence that she had +forged the surreptitious deed herself."</p> + +<p>"It would be strong presumptive evidence that she was cognizant of +the forgery."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so,—but uncorroborated would hardly bring a verdict after +such a lapse of years. And then moreover a prosecution for forgery, +if unsuccessful, would produce more painful feeling. Whether +successful or unsuccessful it would do so. Bail could not be taken in +the first instance, and such a prosecution would create a stronger +feeling that the poor lady was being persecuted."</p> + +<p>"Those who really understand the matter will hardly thank them for +their mercy."</p> + +<p>"But then so few will really understand it. The fact however is that +she will be indicted for perjury. I do not know whether the +indictment has not been already laid. Mr. Furnival was with me in +town yesterday, and at his very urgent request, I discussed the whole +subject with him. I shall be on the Home Circuit myself on these next +spring assizes, but I shall not take the criminal business at Alston. +Indeed I should not choose that this matter should be tried before me +under any circumstances, seeing that the lady is my near neighbour. +Now Furnival wants you to be engaged on the defence as junior +counsel."</p> + +<p>"With himself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; with himself,—and with Mr. Chaffanbrass."</p> + +<p>"With Mr. Chaffanbrass!" said Graham, in a tone almost of horror—as +though he had been asked to league himself with all that was most +disgraceful in the profession;—as indeed perhaps he had been.</p> + +<p>"Yes—with Mr. Chaffanbrass."</p> + +<p>"Will that be well, judge, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chaffanbrass no doubt is a very clever man, and it may be wise +in such a case as this to have the services of a barrister who is +perhaps unequalled in his power of cross-examining a witness."</p> + +<p>"Does his power consist in making a witness speak the truth, or in +making him conceal it?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps in both. But here, if it be the case as Mr. Furnival +suspects, that witnesses will be suborned to give false +<span class="nowrap">evidence—"</span></p> + +<p>"But surely the Rounds would have nothing to do with such a matter as +that?"</p> + +<p>"No, probably not. I am sure that old Richard Round would abhor any +such work as you or I would do. They take the evidence as it is +brought to them. I believe there is no doubt that at any rate one of +the witnesses to the codicil in question will now swear that the +signature to the document is not her signature."</p> + +<p>"A woman—is it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; a woman. In such a case it may perhaps be allowable to employ +such a man as Mr. Chaffanbrass; and I should tell you also, such +another man as Mr. Solomon Aram."</p> + +<p>"Solomon Aram, too! Why, judge, the Old Bailey will be left bare."</p> + +<p>"The shining lights will certainly be down at Alston. Now under those +circumstances will you undertake the case?"</p> + +<p>"Would you;—in my place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; if I were fully convinced of the innocence of my client at the +beginning."</p> + +<p>"But what if I were driven to change my opinion as the thing +progressed?"</p> + +<p>"You must go on, in such a case, as a matter of course."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I can have a day or two to think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. I should not myself be the bearer to you of Mr. Furnival's +message, were it not that I think that Lady Mason is being very +cruelly used in the matter. If I were a young man in your position, I +should take up the case <i>con amore</i>, for the sake of beauty and +womanhood. I don't say that that Quixotism is very wise; but still I +don't think it can be wrong to join yourself even with such men as +Chaffanbrass and Mr. Solomon Aram, if you can feel confident that you +have justice and truth on your side." Then after a few more words the +interview was over, and the judge left the room making some further +observation as to his hope of seeing Graham in the drawing-room on +the next day.</p> + +<p>On the following morning there came from Peckham two more letters for +Graham, one of course from Mary Snow, and one from Mrs. Thomas. We +will first give attention to that from the elder lady. She commenced +with much awe, declaring that her pen trembled within her fingers, +but that nevertheless she felt bound by her conscience and that duty +which she owed to Mr. Graham, to tell him everything that had +occurred,—"word by word," as she expressed it. And then Felix, +looking at the letter, saw that he held in his hand two sheets of +letter paper, quite full of small writing, the latter of which was +crossed. She went on to say that her care had been unremitting, and +her solicitude almost maternal; that Mary's conduct had on the whole +been such as to inspire her with "undeviating confidence;" but that +the guile of the present age was such, especially in respect to +female servants—who seemed, in Mrs. Thomas's opinion, to be sent in +these days express from a very bad place for the express assistance +of a very bad gentleman—that it was impossible for any woman, let +her be ever so circumspect, to say "what was what, or who was who." +From all which Graham learned that Mrs. Thomas had been "done;" but +by the middle of the third page he had as yet learned nothing as to +the manner of the doing.</p> + +<p>But by degrees the long reel unwinded itself;—angel of light, and +all. Mary Snow had not only received but had answered a lover's +letter. She had answered that lover's letter by making an appointment +with him; and she had kept that appointment,—with the assistance of +the agent sent express from that very bad gentleman. All this Mrs. +Thomas had only discovered afterwards by finding the lover's letter, +and the answer which the angel of light had written. Both of these +she copied verbatim, thinking probably that the original documents +were too precious to be intrusted to the post; and then ended by +saying that an additional year of celibacy, passed under a closer +espionage, and with more severe moral training, might still perhaps +make Mary Snow fit for the high destiny which had been promised to +her.</p> + +<p>The only part of this letter which Felix read twice was that which +contained the answer from the angel of light to her lover. "You have +been very wicked to address me," the angel of light said severely. +"And it is almost impossible that I should ever forgive you!" If only +she could have brought herself to end there! But her nature, which +the lover had greatly belied in likening it to her name, was not cold +enough for this. So she added a few more words very indiscreetly. "As +I want to explain to you why I can never see you again, I will meet +you on Thursday afternoon, at half-past four, a little way up Clapham +Lane, at the corner of the doctor's wall, just beyond the third +lamp." It was the first letter she had ever written to a lover, and +the poor girl had betrayed herself by keeping a copy of it.</p> + +<p>And then Graham came to Mary Snow's letter to himself, which, as it +was short, the reader shall have entire.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Mr. Graham</span>,</p> + +<p>I never was so unhappy in my life, and I am sure I don't +know how to write to you. Of course I do not think you +will ever see me again unless it be to upbraid me for my +perfidy, and I almost hope you won't, for I should sink +into the ground before your eyes. And yet I didn't mean to +do anything very wrong, and when I did meet him I wouldn't +as much as let him take me by the hand;—not of my own +accord. I don't know what she has said to you, and I think +she ought to have let me read it; but she speaks to me now +in such a way that I don't know how to bear it. She has +rummaged among everything I have got, but I am sure she +could find nothing except those two letters. It wasn't my +fault that he wrote to me, though I know now I ought not +to have met him. He is quite a genteel young man, and very +respectable in the medical line; only I know that makes no +difference now, seeing how good you have been to me. I +don't ask you to forgive me, but it nearly kills me when I +think of poor papa.</p> + +<p>Yours always, most unhappy, and very sorry for what I have +done,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Mary +Snow</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Poor Mary Snow! Could any man under such circumstances have been +angry with her? In the first place if men will mould their wives, +they must expect that kind of thing; and then, after all, was there +any harm done? If ultimately he did marry Mary Snow, would she make a +worse wife because she had met the apothecary's assistant at the +corner of the doctor's wall, under the third lamp-post? Graham, as he +sat with the letters before him, made all manner of excuses for her; +and this he did the more eagerly, because he felt that he would have +willingly made this affair a cause for breaking off his engagement, +if his conscience had not told him that it would be unhandsome in him +to do so.</p> + +<p>When Augustus came he could not show the letters to him. Had he done +so it would have been as much as to declare that now the coast was +clear as far as he was concerned. He could not now discuss with his +friend the question of Mary Snow, without also discussing the other +question of Madeline Staveley. So he swept the letters away, and +talked almost entirely about the Orley Farm case.</p> + +<p>"I only wish I were thought good enough for the chance," said +Augustus. "By heavens! I would work for that woman as I never could +work again for any fee that could be offered me."</p> + +<p>"So would I; but I don't like my fellow-labourers."</p> + +<p>"I should not mind that."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Graham, "there can be no possible doubt as to her +absolute innocence?"</p> + +<p>"None whatever. My father has no doubt. Furnival has no doubt. Sir +Peregrine has no doubt,—who, by-the-by, is going to marry her."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but he is though. He has taken up her case <i>con amore</i> with a +vengeance."</p> + +<p>"I should be sorry for that. It makes me think him a fool, and her—a +very clever woman."</p> + +<p>And so that matter was discussed, but not a word was said between +them about Mary Snow, or as to that former conversation respecting +Madeline Staveley. Each felt then there was a reserve between them; +but each felt also that there was no way of avoiding this. "The +governor seems determined that you sha'n't stir yet awhile," Augustus +said as he was preparing to take his leave.</p> + +<p>"I shall be off in a day or two at the furthest all the same," said +Graham.</p> + +<p>"And you are to drink tea down stairs to-night. I'll come and fetch +you as soon as we're out of the dining-room. I can assure you that +your first appearance after your accident has been duly announced to +the public, and that you are anxiously expected." And then Staveley +left him.</p> + +<p>So he was to meet Madeline that evening. His first feeling at the +thought was one of joy, but he soon brought himself almost to wish +that he could leave Noningsby without any such meeting. There would +have been nothing in it,—nothing that need have called for +observation or remark,—had he not told his secret to Augustus. But +his secret had been told to one, and might be known to others in the +house. Indeed he felt sure that it was suspected by Lady Staveley. It +could not, as he said to himself, have been suspected by the judge, +or the judge would not have treated him in so friendly a manner, or +have insisted so urgently on his coming down among them.</p> + +<p>And then, how should he carry himself in her presence? If he were to +say nothing to her, his saying nothing would be remarked; and yet he +felt that all his powers of self-control would not enable him to +speak to her in the same manner that he would speak to her sister. He +had to ask himself, moreover, what line of conduct he did intend to +follow. If he was still resolved to marry Mary Snow, would it not be +better that he should take this bull by the horns and upset it at +once? In such case, Madeline Staveley must be no more to him than her +sister. But then he had two intentions. In accordance with one he +would make Mary Snow his wife; and in following the other he would +marry Miss Staveley. It must be admitted that the two brides which he +proposed to himself were very different. The one that he had moulded +for his own purposes was not, as he admitted, quite equal to her of +whom nature, education, and birth had had the handling.</p> + +<p>Again he dined alone; but on this occasion Mrs. Baker was able to +elicit from him no enthusiasm as to his dinner. And yet she had done +her best, and placed before him a sweetbread and dish of sea-kale +that ought to have made him enthusiastic. "I had to fight with the +gardener for that like anything," she said, singing her own praises +when he declined to sing them.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! They'll think that I am a dreadful person to have in the +house."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. Only they sha'n't think as how I'm going to be said 'no' +to in that way when I've set my mind on a thing. I know what's going +and I know what's proper. Why, laws, Mr. Graham, there's heaps of +things there and yet there's no getting of 'em;—unless there's a +party or the like of that. What's the use of a garden I say,—or of a +gardener neither, if you don't have garden stuff? It's not to look +at. Do finish it now;—after all the trouble I had, standing over him +in the cold while he cut it."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, oh dear, Mrs. Baker, why did you do that?"</p> + +<p>"He thought to perish me, making believe it took him so long to get +at it; but I'm not so easy perished; I can tell him that! I'd have +stood there till now but what I had it. Miss Madeline see'd me as I +was coming in, and asked me what I'd been doing."</p> + +<p>"I hope you didn't tell her that I couldn't live without sea-kale?"</p> + +<p>"I told her that I meant to give you your dinner comfortable as long +as you had it up here; and she said—; but laws, Mr. Graham, you +don't care what a young lady says to an old woman like me. You'll see +her yourself this evening, and then you can tell her whether or no +the sea-kale was worth the eating! It's not so badly biled, I will +say that for Hannah Cook, though she is rampagious sometimes." He +longed to ask her what words Madeline had used, even in speaking on +such a subject as this; but he did not dare to do so. Mrs. Baker was +very fond of talking about Miss Madeline, but Graham was by no means +assured that he should find an ally in Mrs. Baker if he told her all +the truth.</p> + +<p>At last the hour arrived, and Augustus came to convoy him down to the +drawing-room. It was now many days since he had been out of that +room, and the very fact of moving was an excitement to him. He hardly +knew how he might feel in walking down stairs, and could not quite +separate the nervousness arising from his shattered bones from that +other nervousness which came from his—shattered heart. The word is +undoubtedly a little too strong, but as it is there, there let it +stay. When he reached the drawing-room, he almost felt that he had +better decline to enter it. The door however was opened, and he was +in the room before he could make up his mind to any such step, and he +found himself being walked across the floor to some especial seat, +while a dozen kindly anxious faces were crowding round him.</p> + +<p>"Here's an arm-chair, Mr. Graham, kept expressly for you, near the +fire," said Lady Staveley. "And I am extremely glad to see you well +enough to fill it."</p> + +<p>"Welcome out of your room, sir," said the judge. "I compliment you, +and Pottinger also, upon your quick recovery; but allow me to tell +you that you don't yet look a man fit to rough it alone in London."</p> + +<p>"I feel very well, sir," said Graham.</p> + +<p>And then Mrs. Arbuthnot greeted him, and Miss Furnival, and four or +five others who were of the party, and he was introduced to one or +two whom he had not seen before. Marian too came up to him,—very +gently, as though he were as brittle as glass, having been warned by +her mother. "Oh, Mr. Felix," she said, "I was so unhappy when your +bones were broken. I do hope they won't break again."</p> + +<p>And then he perceived that Madeline was in the room and was coming up +to him. She had in truth not been there when he first entered, having +thought it better, as a matter of strategy, to follow upon his +footsteps. He was getting up to meet her, when Lady Staveley spoke to +him.</p> + +<p>"Don't move, Mr. Graham. Invalids, you know, are chartered."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you once more down stairs," said Madeline, as +she frankly gave him her hand,—not merely touching his—"very, very +glad. But I do hope you will get stronger before you venture to leave +Noningsby. You have frightened us all very much by your terrible +accident."</p> + +<p>All this was said in her peculiarly sweet silver voice, not speaking +as though she were dismayed and beside herself, or in a hurry to get +through a lesson which she had taught herself. She had her secret to +hide, and had schooled herself how to hide it. But in so schooling +herself she had been compelled to acknowledge to herself that the +secret did exist. She had told herself that she must meet him, and +that in meeting him she must hide it. This she had done with absolute +success. Such is the peculiar power of women; and her mother, who had +listened not only to every word, but to every tone of her voice, gave +her exceeding credit.</p> + +<p>"There's more in her than I thought there was," said Sophia Furnival +to herself, who had also listened and watched.</p> + +<p>"It has not gone very deep, with her," said the judge, who on this +matter was not so good a judge as Miss Furnival.</p> + +<p>"She cares about me just as Mrs. Baker does," said Graham to himself, +who was the worst judge of them all. He muttered something quite +unintelligible in answer to the kindness of her words; and then +Madeline, having gone through her task, retired to the further side +of the round table, and went to work among the teacups.</p> + +<p>And then the conversation became general, turning altogether on the +affairs of Lady Mason. It was declared as a fact by Lady Staveley +that there was to be a marriage between Sir Peregrine Orme and his +guest, and all in the room expressed their sorrow. The women were +especially indignant. "I have no patience with her," said Mrs. +Arbuthnot. "She must know that such a marriage at his time of life +must be ridiculous, and injurious to the whole family."</p> + +<p>The women were very indignant,—all except Miss Furnival, who did not +say much, but endeavoured to palliate the crimes of Lady Mason in +that which she did say. "I do not know that she is more to blame than +any other lady who marries a gentleman thirty years older than +herself."</p> + +<p>"I do then," said Lady Staveley, who delighted in contradicting Miss +Furnival. "And so would you too, my dear, if you had known Sir +Peregrine as long as I have. And if—if—if—but it does not matter. +I am very sorry for Lady Mason,—very. I think she is a woman cruelly +used by her own connections; but my sympathies with her would be +warmer if she had refrained from using her power over an old +gentleman like Sir Peregrine, in the way she has done." In all which +expression of sentiment the reader will know that poor dear Lady +Staveley was wrong from the beginning to the end.</p> + +<p>"For my part," said the judge, "I don't see what else she was to do. +If Sir Peregrine asked her, how could she refuse?"</p> + +<p>"My dear!" said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"According to that, papa, every lady must marry any gentleman that +asks her," said Mrs. Arbuthnot.</p> + +<p>"When a lady is under so deep a weight of obligation I don't know how +she is to refuse. My idea is that Sir Peregrine should not have asked +her."</p> + +<p>"And mine too," said Felix. "Unless indeed he did it under an +impression that he could fight for her better as her husband than +simply as a friend."</p> + +<p>"And I feel sure that that is what he did think," said Madeline, from +the further side of the table. And her voice sounded in Graham's ears +as the voice of Eve may have sounded to Adam. No; let him do what he +might in the world;—whatever might be the form in which his future +career should be fashioned, one thing was clearly impossible to him. +He could not marry Mary Snow. Had he never learned to know what were +the true charms of feminine grace and loveliness, it might have been +possible for him to do so, and to have enjoyed afterwards a fair +amount of contentment. But now even contentment would be impossible +to him under such a lot as that. Not only would he be miserable, but +the woman whom he married would be wretched also. It may be said that +he made up his mind definitely, while sitting in that arm-chair, that +he would not marry Mary Snow. Poor Mary Snow! Her fault in the matter +had not been great.</p> + +<p>When Graham was again in his room, and the servant who was obliged to +undress him had left him, he sat over his fire, wrapped in his +dressing-gown, bethinking himself what he would do. "I will tell the +judge everything," he said at last. "Then, if he will let me into his +house after that, I must fight my own battle." And so he betook +himself to bed.</p> + + +<p><a name="c49" id="c49"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER XLIX.</h4> +<h3>MRS. FURNIVAL CAN'T PUT UP WITH IT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Lady Mason last left the chambers of her lawyer in Lincoln's +Inn, she was watched by a stout lady as she passed through the narrow +passage leading from the Old to the New Square. That fact will I +trust be remembered, and I need hardly say that the stout lady was +Mrs. Furnival. She had heard betimes of the arrival of that letter +with the Hamworth post-mark, had felt assured that it was written by +the hands of her hated rival, and had at once prepared for action.</p> + +<p>"I shall leave this house to-day,—immediately after breakfast," she +said to Miss Biggs, as they sat disconsolately at the table with the +urn between them.</p> + +<p>"And I think you will be quite right, my dear," replied Miss Biggs. +"It is your bounden duty to put down such wicked iniquity as +this;—not only for your own sake, but for that of morals in general. +What in the world is there so beautiful and so lovely as a high tone +of moral sentiment?" To this somewhat transcendental question Mrs. +Furnival made no reply. That a high tone of moral sentiment as a +thing in general, for the world's use, is very good, she was no doubt +aware; but her mind at the present moment was fixed exclusively on +her own peculiar case. That Tom Furnival should be made to give up +seeing that nasty woman who lived at Hamworth, and to give up also +having letters from her,—that at present was the extent of her moral +sentiment. His wicked iniquity she could forgive with a facility not +at all gratifying to Miss Biggs, if only she could bring about such a +result as that. So she merely grunted in answer to the above +proposition.</p> + +<p>"And will you sleep away from this?" asked Miss Biggs.</p> + +<p>"Certainly I will. I will neither eat here, nor sleep here, nor stay +here till I know that all this is at an end. I have made up my mind +what I will do."</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked the anxious Martha.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind. I am not exactly prepared to talk about it. There +are things one can't talk about,—not to anybody. One feels as though +one would burst in mentioning it. I do, I know."</p> + +<p>Martha Biggs could not but feel that this was hard, but she knew that +friendship is nothing if it be not long enduring. "Dearest Kitty!" +she exclaimed. "If true sympathy can be of service to +<span class="nowrap">you—"</span></p> + +<p>"I wonder whether I could get respectable lodgings in the +neighbourhood of Red Lion Square for a week?" said Mrs. Furnival, +once more bringing the conversation back from the abstract to the +concrete.</p> + +<p>In answer to this Miss Biggs of course offered the use of her own +bedroom and of her father's house; but her father was an old man, and +Mrs. Furnival positively refused to agree to any such arrangement. At +last it was decided that Martha should at once go off and look for +lodgings in the vicinity of her own home, that Mrs. Furnival should +proceed to carry on her own business in her own way,—the cruelty +being this, that she would not give the least hint as to what that +way might be,—and that the two ladies should meet together in the +Red Lion Square drawing-room at the close of the day.</p> + +<p>"And about dinner, dear?" asked Miss Biggs.</p> + +<p>"I will get something at a pastrycook's," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"And your clothes, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Rachel will see about them; she knows." Now Rachel was the old +female servant of twenty years' standing; and the disappointment +experienced by poor Miss Biggs at the ignorance in which she was left +was greatly enhanced by a belief that Rachel knew more than she did. +Mrs. Furnival would tell Rachel but would not tell her. This was +very, very hard, as Miss Biggs felt. But, nevertheless, friendship, +sincere friendship is long enduring, and true patient merit will +generally receive at last its appropriate reward.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Furnival had sat down, Martha Biggs having been duly sent +forth on the mission after the lodgings, and had written a letter to +her husband. This she intrusted to Rachel, whom she did not purpose +to remove from that abode of iniquity from which she herself was +fleeing, and having completed her letter she went out upon her own +work. The letter ran as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Harley Street—Friday.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dearest Tom</span>,</p> + +<p>I cannot stand this any longer, so I have thought it best +to leave the house and go away. I am very sorry to be +forced to such a step as this, and would have put up with +a good deal first; but there are some things which I +cannot put up with,—and won't. I know that a woman has to +obey her husband, and I have always obeyed you, and +thought it no hardship even when I was left so much alone; +but a woman is not to see a slut brought in under her very +nose,—and I won't put up with it. We've been married now +going on over twenty-five years, and it's terrible to +think of being driven to this. I almost believe it will +drive me mad, and then, when I'm a lunatic, of course you +can do as you please.</p> + +<p>I don't want to have any secrets from you. Where I shall +go I don't yet know, but I've asked Martha Biggs to take +lodgings for me somewhere near her. I must have somebody +to speak to now and again, so you can write to 23 Red Lion +Square till you hear further. It's no use sending for me, +for I <span class="u">won't come</span>;—not till +I know that you think better +of your present ways of going on. I don't know whether you +have the power to get the police to come after me, but I +advise you not. If you do anything of that sort the people +about shall hear of it.</p> + +<p>And now, Tom, I want to say one word to you. You can't +think it's a happiness to me going away from my own home +where I have lived respectable so many years, or leaving +you whom I've loved with all my whole heart. It makes me +very very unhappy, so that I could sit and cry all day if +it weren't for pride and because the servants shouldn't +see me. To think that it has come to this after all! Oh, +Tom, I wonder whether you ever think of the old days when +we used to be so happy in Keppel Street! There wasn't +anybody then that you cared to see, except me;—I do +believe that. And you'd always come home then, and I never +thought bad of it though you wouldn't have a word to speak +to me for hours. Because you were doing your duty. But you +ain't doing your duty now, Tom. You know you ain't doing +your duty when you never dine at home, and come home so +cross with wine that you curse and swear, and have that +nasty woman coming to see you at your chambers. Don't tell +me it's about law business. Ladies don't go to barristers' +chambers about law business. All that is done by +attorneys. I've heard you say scores of times that you +never would see people themselves, and yet you see her.</p> + +<p>Oh, Tom, you have made me so wretched! But I can forgive +it all, and will never say another word about it to fret +you, if you'll only promise me to have nothing more to say +to that woman. Of course I'd like you to come home to +dinner, but I'd put up with that. You've made your own way +in the world, and perhaps it's only right you should enjoy +it. I don't think so much dining at the club can be good +for you, and I'm afraid you'll have gout, but I don't want +to bother you about that. Send me a line to say that you +won't see her any more, and I'll come back to Harley +Street at once. If you can't bring yourself to do that, +you—and—I—must—part. I can +put up with a great deal, +but I can't put up with that;—<span class="u">and +won't</span>.</p> + +<p class="ind10">Your affectionate loving wife,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">C. +Furnival</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>"I wonder whether you ever think of the old days when we used to be +so happy in Keppel Street?" Ah me, how often in after life, in those +successful days when the battle has been fought and won, when all +seems outwardly to go well,—how often is this reference made to the +happy days in Keppel Street! It is not the prize that can make us +happy; it is not even the winning of the prize, though for the one +short half-hour of triumph that is pleasant enough. The struggle, the +long hot hour of the honest fight, the grinding work,—when the teeth +are set, and the skin moist with sweat and rough with dust, when all +is doubtful and sometimes desperate, when a man must trust to his own +manhood knowing that those around him trust to it not at all,—that +is the happy time of life. There is no human bliss equal to twelve +hours of work with only six hours in which to do it. And when the +expected pay for that work is worse than doubtful, the inner +satisfaction is so much the greater. Oh, those happy days in Keppel +Street, or it may be over in dirty lodgings in the Borough, or +somewhere near the Marylebone workhouse;—anywhere for a moderate +weekly stipend. Those were to us, and now are to others, and always +will be to many, the happy days of life. How bright was love, and how +full of poetry! Flashes of wit glanced here and there, and how they +came home and warmed the cockles of the heart. And the unfrequent +bottle! Methinks that wine has utterly lost its flavour since those +days. There is nothing like it; long work, grinding weary work, work +without pay, hopeless work; but work in which the worker trusts +himself, believing it to be good. Let him, like Mahomet, have one +other to believe in him, and surely nothing else is needed. "Ah me! I +wonder whether you ever think of the old days when we used to be so +happy in Keppel Street?"</p> + +<p>Nothing makes a man so cross as success, or so soon turns a pleasant +friend into a captious acquaintance. Your successful man eats too +much and his stomach troubles him; he drinks too much and his nose +becomes blue. He wants pleasure and excitement, and roams about +looking for satisfaction in places where no man ever found it. He +frets himself with his banker's book, and everything tastes amiss to +him that has not on it the flavour of gold. The straw of an omnibus +always stinks; the linings of the cabs are filthy. There are but +three houses round London at which an eatable dinner may be obtained. +And yet a few years since how delicious was that cut of roast goose +to be had for a shilling at the eating-house near Golden Square. Mrs. +Jones and Mrs. Green, Mrs. Walker and all the other mistresses, are +too vapid and stupid and humdrum for endurance. The theatres are dull +as Lethe, and politics have lost their salt. Success is the necessary +misfortune of life, but it is only to the very unfortunate that it +comes early.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival, when she had finished her letter and fastened it, drew +one of the heavy dining-room arm-chairs over against the fire, and +sat herself down to consider her past life, still holding the letter +in her lap. She had not on that morning been very careful with her +toilet, as was perhaps natural enough. The cares of the world were +heavy on her, and he would not be there to see her. Her hair was +rough, and her face was red, and she had hardly had the patience to +make straight the collar round her neck. To the eye she was an +untidy, angry, cross-looking woman. But her heart was full of +tenderness,—full to overflowing. She loved him now as well as ever +she had loved him:—almost more as the thought of parting from him +pressed upon her! Was he not all in all to her? Had she not +worshipped him during her whole life? Could she not forgive him?</p> + +<p>Forgive him! Yes. Forgive him with the fullest, frankest, freest +pardon, if he would only take forgiveness. Should she burn that +letter in the fire, send to Biggs saying that the lodgings were not +wanted, and then throw herself at Tom's feet, imploring him to have +mercy upon her? All that she could do within her heart, and make her +words as passionate, as soft, and as poetical as might be those of a +young wife of twenty. But she felt that such words,—though she could +frame the sentence while sitting there,—could never get themselves +spoken. She had tried it, and it had been of no avail. Not only +should she be prepared for softness, but he also must be so prepared +and at the same moment. If he should push her from him and call her a +fool when she attempted that throwing of herself at his feet, how +would it be with her spirit then? No. She must go forth and the +letter must be left. If there were any hope of union for the future +it must come from a parting for the present. So she went up stairs +and summoned Rachel, remaining with her in consultation for some +half-hour. Then she descended with her bonnet and shawl, got into a +cab while Spooner stood at the door looking very serious, and was +driven away,—whither, no one knew in Harley Street except Mrs. +Furnival herself, and that cabman.</p> + +<p>"She'll never put her foot inside this hall door again. That's my +idea of the matter," said Spooner.</p> + +<p>"Indeed and she will," said Rachel, "and be a happier woman than ever +she's been since the house was took."</p> + +<p>"If I know master," said Spooner, "he's not the man to get rid of an +old woman, easy like that, and then 'ave her back agin." Upon hearing +which words, so very injurious to the sex in general, Rachel walked +into the house not deigning any further reply.</p> + +<p>And then, as we have seen, Mrs. Furnival was there, standing in the +dark shadow of the Lincoln's Inn passage, when Lady Mason left the +lawyer's chambers. She felt sure that it was Lady Mason, but she +could not be quite sure. The woman, though she came out from the +entry which led to her husband's chambers, might have come down from +some other set of rooms. Had she been quite certain she would have +attacked her rival there, laying bodily hands upon her in the +purlieus of the Lord Chancellor's Court. As it was, the poor bruised +creature was allowed to pass by, and as she emerged out into the +light at the other end of the passage Mrs. Furnival became quite +certain of her identity.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she said to herself. "She sha'n't escape me long. Him I +could forgive, if he would only give it up; but as for +<span class="nowrap">her—!</span> Let +what come of it, come may, I will tell that woman what I think of her +conduct before I am many hours older." Then, giving one look up to +the windows of her husband's chambers, she walked forth through the +dusty old gate into Chancery Lane, and made her way on foot up to No. +23 Red Lion Square. "I'm glad I've done it," she said to herself as +she went; "very glad. There's nothing else for it, when things come +to such a head as that." And in this frame of mind she knocked at her +friend's door.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Martha Biggs, with her eyes, and mouth, and arms, and +heart all open.</p> + +<p>"Have you got me the lodgings?" said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Yes, close by;—in Orange Street. I'm afraid you'll find them very +dull. And what have you done?"</p> + +<p>"I have done nothing, and I don't at all mind their being dull. They +can't possibly be more dull than Harley Street."</p> + +<p>"And I shall be near you; sha'n't I?" said Martha Biggs.</p> + +<p>"Umph," said Mrs. Furnival. "I might as well go there at once and get +myself settled." So she did, the affectionate Martha of course +accompanying her; and thus the affairs of that day were over.</p> + +<p>Her intention was to go down to Hamworth at once, and make her way up +to Orley Farm, at which place she believed that Lady Mason was +living. Up to this time she had heard no word of the coming trial +beyond what Mr. Furnival had told her as to his client's "law +business." And whatever he had so told her, she had scrupulously +disbelieved. In her mind all that went for nothing. Law business! she +was not so blind, so soft, so green, as to be hoodwinked by such +stuff as that. Beautiful widows don't have personal interviews with +barristers in their chambers over and over again, let them have what +law business they may. At any rate Mrs. Furnival took upon herself to +say that they ought not to have such interviews. She would go down to +Orley Farm and she would have an interview with Lady Mason. Perhaps +the thing might be stopped in that way.</p> + +<p>On the following morning she received a note from her husband the +consideration of which delayed her proceedings for that day.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smallcaps">Dear Kitty</span>," +the note ran.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p>I think you are very foolish. If regard for me had not +kept you at home, some consideration with reference to +Sophia should have done so. What you say about that poor +lady at Orley Farm is too absurd for me to answer. If you +would have spoken to me about her, I would have told you +that which would have set your mind at rest, at any rate +as regards her. I cannot do this in a letter, nor could I +do it in the presence of your friend, Miss Biggs.</p> + +<p>I hope you will come back at once; but I shall not add to +the absurdity of your leaving your own house by any +attempt to bring you back again by force. As you must want +money I enclose a check for fifty pounds. I hope you will +be back before you want more; but if not I will send it as +soon as you ask for it.</p> + +<p class="ind10">Yours affectionately as always,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">T. +Furnival</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>There was about this letter an absence of sentiment, and an absence +of threat, and an absence of fuss, which almost overset her. Could it +be possible that she was wrong about Lady Mason? Should she go to him +and hear his own account before she absolutely declared war by +breaking into the enemy's camp at Orley Farm? Then, moreover, she was +touched and almost overcome about the money. She wished he had not +sent it to her. That money difficulty had occurred to her, and been +much discussed in her own thoughts. Of course she could not live away +from him if he refused to make her any allowance,—at least not for +any considerable time. He had always been liberal as regards money +since money had been plenty with him, and therefore she had some +supply with her. She had jewels too which were her own; and though, +as she had already determined, she would not part with them without +telling him what she was about to do, yet she could, if pressed, live +in this way for the next twelve months;—perhaps, with close economy, +even for a longer time than that. In her present frame of mind she +had looked forward almost with gratification to being pinched and +made uncomfortable. She would wear her ordinary and more dowdy +dresses; she would spend much of her time in reading sermons; she +would get up very early and not care what she ate or drank. In short, +she would make herself as uncomfortable as circumstances would admit, +and thoroughly enjoy her grievances.</p> + +<p>But then this check of fifty pounds, and this offer of as much more +as she wanted when that was gone, rather took the ground from under +her feet. Unless she herself chose to give way she might go on living +in Orange Street to the end of the chapter, with every material +comfort about her,—keeping her own brougham if she liked, for the +checks she now knew would come without stint. And he would go on +living in Harley street, seeing Lady Mason as often as he pleased. +Sophia would be the mistress of the house, and as long as this was +so, Lady Mason would not show her face there. Now this was not a +course of events to which Mrs. Furnival could bring herself to look +forward with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>All this delayed her during that day, but before she went to bed she +made up her mind that she would at any rate go down to Hamworth. Tom, +she knew, was deceiving her; of that she felt morally sure. She would +at any rate go down to Hamworth, and trust to her own wit for finding +out the truth when there.</p> + + +<p><a name="c50" id="c50"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER L.</h4> +<h3>IT IS QUITE IMPOSSIBLE.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>All was now sadness at The Cleeve. It was soon understood among the +servants that there was to be no marriage, and the tidings spread +from the house, out among the neighbours and into Hamworth. But no +one knew the reason of this change;—none except those three, the +woman herself who had committed the crime and the two to whom she had +told it. On that same night, the night of the day on which the tale +had been told, Lady Mason wrote a line,—almost a single line to her +son.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest Lucius</span>,</p> + +<p>All is over between me and Sir Peregrine. It is better +that it should be so. I write to tell you this without +losing an hour. For the present I remain here with my +dear—dearest friends.</p> + +<p class="ind10">Your own affectionate mother,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">M. +Mason</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>This note she had written in obedience to the behests of Mrs. Orme, +and even under her dictation—with the exception of one or two words, +"I remain here with my friends," Mrs. Orme had said; but Lady Mason +had put in the two epithets, and had then declared her own conviction +that she had now no right to use such language.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of me you may, certainly," said Mrs. Orme, keeping close to her +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Then I will alter it," said Lady Mason. "I will write it again and +say I am staying with you."</p> + +<p>But this Mrs. Orme had forbidden. "No; it will be better so," she +said. "Sir Peregrine would wish it. I am sure he would. He quite +agrees <span class="nowrap">that—"</span> Mrs. Orme did not +finish her sentence, but the letter +was despatched, written as above. The answer which Lucius sent down +before breakfast the next morning was still shorter.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest Mother</span>,</p> + +<p>I am greatly rejoiced that it is so.</p> + +<p class="ind8">Your affectionate son,</p> + +<p class="ind12">L. M.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>He sent this note, but he did not go down to her, nor was there any +other immediate communication between them.</p> + +<p>All was now sadness at The Cleeve. Peregrine knew that that marriage +project was over, and he knew also that his grandfather and Lady +Mason did not now meet each other; but he knew nothing of the cause, +though he could not but remark that he did not see her. On that day +she did not come down either to dinner or during the evening; nor was +she seen on the following morning. He, Peregrine, felt aware that +something had occurred at that interview in the library after +breakfast, but was lost in surmising what that something had been. +That Lady Mason should have told his grandfather that the marriage +must be given up would have been only in accordance with the promise +made by her to him; but he did not think that that alone would have +occasioned such utter sadness, such deathlike silence in the +household. Had there been a quarrel Lady Mason would have gone +home;—but she did not go home. Had the match been broken off without +a quarrel, why should she mysteriously banish herself to two rooms so +that no one but his mother should see her?</p> + +<p>And he too had his own peculiar sorrow. On that morning Sir Peregrine +had asked him to ride through the grounds, and it had been the +baronet's intention to propose during that ride that he should go +over to Noningsby and speak to the judge about Madeline. We all know +how that proposition had been frustrated. And now Peregrine, thinking +over the matter, saw that his grandfather was not in a position at +the present moment to engage himself ardently in any such work. By +whatever means or whatever words he had been induced to agree to the +abandonment of that marriage engagement, that abandonment weighed +very heavily on his spirits. It was plain to see that he was a broken +man, broken in heart and in spirit. He shut himself up alone in his +library all that afternoon, and had hardly a word to say when he came +out to dinner in the evening. He was very pale too, and slow and weak +in his step. He tried to smile as he came up to his daughter-in-law +in the drawing-room; but his smile was the saddest thing of all. And +then Peregrine could see that he ate nothing. He was very gentle in +his demeanour to the servants, very courteous and attentive to Mrs. +Orme, very kind to his grandson. But yet his mind was +heavy;—brooding over some sorrow that oppressed it. On the following +morning it was the same, and the grandson knew that he could look to +his grandfather for no assistance at Noningsby.</p> + +<p>Immediately after breakfast Peregrine got on his horse, without +speaking to any one of his intention,—almost without having formed +an intention, and rode off in the direction of Alston. He did not +take the road, but went out through The Cleeve woods, on to the +common, by which, had he turned to the left, he might have gone to +Orley Farm; but when on the top of the rise from Crutchley Bottom he +turned to the right, and putting his horse into a gallop, rode along +the open ground till he came to an enclosure into which he leaped. +From thence he made his way through a farm gate into a green country +lane, along which he still pressed his horse, till he found himself +divided from the end of a large wood by but one field. He knew the +ground well, and the direction in which he was going. He could pass +through that wood, and then down by an old farm-house at the other +end of it, and so on to the Alston road, within a mile of Noningsby. +He knew the ground well, for he had ridden over every field of it. +When a man does so after thirty he forgets the spots which he passes +in his hurry, but when he does so before twenty he never forgets. +That field and that wood Peregrine Orme would never forget. There was +the double ditch and bank over which Harriet Tristram had ridden with +so much skill and courage. There was the spot on which he had knelt +so long, while Felix Graham lay back against him, feeble and almost +speechless. And there, on the other side, had sat Madeline on her +horse, pale with anxiety but yet eager with hope, as she asked +question after question as to him who had been hurt.</p> + +<p>Peregrine rode up to the ditch, and made his horse stand while he +looked at it. It was there, then, on that spot, that he had felt the +first pang of jealousy. The idea had occurred to him that he for whom +he had been doing a friend's offices with such zealous kindness was +his worst enemy. Had he,—he, Peregrine Orme,—broken his arms and +legs, or even broken his neck, would she have ridden up, all +thoughtless of herself, and thrown her very life into her voice as +she had done when she knew that Felix Graham had fallen from his +horse? And then he had gone on with his work, aiding the hurt man as +zealously as before, but still feeling that he was bound to hate him. +And afterwards, at Noningsby, he had continued to minister to him as +to his friend,—zealously doing a friend's offices, but still feeling +that the man was his enemy. Not that he was insincere. There was no +place for insincerity or treachery within his heart. The man had done +no ill,—was a good fellow—was entitled to his kindness by all the +social laws which he knew. They two had gone together from the same +table to the same spot, and had been close together when the one had +come to sorrow. It was his duty to act as Graham's friend; and yet +how could he not feel that he must hate him?</p> + +<p>And now he sat looking at the fence, wishing,—wishing;—no, +certainly not wishing that Graham's hurt had been more serious; but +wishing that in falling from his horse he might utterly have fallen +out of favour with that sweet young female heart; or rather wishing, +could he so have expressed it, that he himself might have had the +fall, and the broken bones, and all the danger,—so that he might +also have had the interest which those eyes and that voice had shown.</p> + +<p>And then quickly he turned his horse, and without giving the beast +time to steady himself he rammed him at the fence. The leap out of +the wood into the field was difficult, but that back into the wood +was still worse. The up-jump was higher, and the ditch which must be +first cleared was broader. Nor did he take it at the easiest part as +he had done on that day when he rode his own horse and then Graham's +back into the wood. But he pressed his animal exactly at the spot +from which his rival had fallen. There were still the marks of the +beast's struggle, as he endeavoured to save himself before he came +down, head foremost, into the ditch. The bank had been somewhat +narrowed and pared away, and it was clearly the last place in the +face of the whole opening into the wood, which a rider with his +senses about him would have selected for his jump.</p> + +<p>The horse knowing his master's humour, and knowing also,—which is so +vitally important,—the nature of his master's courage, jumped at the +bank, without pausing. As I have said, no time had been given him to +steady himself,—not a moment to see where his feet should go, to +understand and make the most of the ground that he was to use. He +jumped and jumped well, but only half gained the top of the bank. The +poor brute, urged beyond his power, could not get his hind feet up so +near the surface as to give him a fulcrum for a second spring. For a +moment he strove to make good his footing, still clinging with his +fore feet, and then slowly came down backwards into the ditch, then +regained his feet, and dragging himself with an effort from the mud, +made his way back into the field. Peregrine Orme had kept his seat +throughout. His legs were accustomed to the saddle and knew how to +cling to it, while there was a hope that he might struggle through. +And now that he was again in the field he wheeled his horse to a +greater distance, striking him with his whip, and once more pushed +him at the fence. The gallant beast went at it bravely, slightly +swerving from the fatal spot to which Peregrine had endeavoured once +more to guide him, leaped with a full spring from the unworn turf, +and, barely touching the bank, landed himself and his master lightly +within the precincts of the wood.</p> + +<p>"Ah-h!" said Peregrine, shouting angrily at the horse, as though the +brute had done badly instead of well. And then he rode down slowly +through the wood, and out by Monkton Grange farm, round the moat, and +down the avenue, and before long he was standing at Noningsby gate.</p> + +<p>He had not made up his mind to any plan of action, nor indeed had he +determined that he would ask to see any of the family or even enter +the place. The woman at the lodge opened the gate, and he rode in +mechanically, asking if any of them were at home. The judge and Mr. +Augustus were gone up to London, but my lady and the other ladies +were in the house. Mr. Graham had not gone, the woman said in answer +to his question; nor did she know when he was going. And then, armed +with this information, Peregrine Orme rode round to the stables, and +gave up his horse to a groom.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lady Staveley was at home," the servant said at the door. +"Would Mr. Orme walk into the drawing-room, where he would find the +young ladies?" But Mr. Orme would not do this. He would go into a +small book-room with which he was well acquainted, and have his name +taken up to Lady Staveley. "He did not," he said, "mean to stay very +long; but particularly wished to see Lady Staveley." In a few minutes +Lady Staveley came to him, radiant with her sweetest smile, and with +both her hands held out to greet him.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Orme," she said, "I am delighted to see you; but what +made you run away from us so suddenly?" She had considered her words +in that moment as she came across the hall, and had thought that in +this way she might best enable him to speak.</p> + +<p>"Lady Staveley," he said, "I have come here on purpose to tell you. +Has your daughter told you anything?"</p> + +<p>"Who—Madeline?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madeline. I mean Miss Staveley. Has she said anything to you +about me?"</p> + +<p>"Well; yes, she has. Will you not sit down, Mr. Orme, and then we +shall be more comfortable." Hitherto he had stood up, and had blurted +out his words with a sudden, determined, and almost ferocious +air,—as though he were going to demand the girl's hand, and +challenge all the household if it were refused him. But Lady Staveley +understood his manner and his nature, and liked him almost the better +for his abruptness.</p> + +<p>"She has spoken to me, Mr. Orme; she has told me of what passed +between you on the last day that you were with us."</p> + +<p>"And yet you are surprised that I should have gone! I wonder at that, +Lady Staveley. You must have <span class="nowrap">known—"</span></p> + +<p>"Well; perhaps I did know; but sit down, Mr. Orme. I won't let you +get up in that restless way, if we are to talk together. Tell me +frankly; what is it you think that I can do for you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose you can do anything;—but I thought I would come +over and speak to you. I don't suppose I've any chance?" He had +seated himself far back on a sofa, and was holding his hat between +his knees, with his eyes fixed on the ground; but as he spoke the +last words he looked round into her face with an anxious inquiring +glance which went direct to her heart.</p> + +<p>"What can I say, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no. Of course nothing. Good-bye, Lady Staveley. I might as well +go. I know that I was a fool for coming here. I knew it as I was +coming. Indeed I hardly meant to come in when I found myself at the +gate."</p> + +<p>"But you must not go from us like that."</p> + +<p>"I must though. Do you think that I could go in and see her? If I did +I should make such a fool of myself that I could never again hold up +my head. And I am a fool. I ought to have known that a fellow like me +could have no chance with her. I could knock my own head off, if I +only knew how, for having made such an ass of myself."</p> + +<p>"No one here thinks so of you, Mr. Orme."</p> + +<p>"No one here thinks what?"</p> + +<p>"That it was—unreasonable in you to propose to Madeline. We all know +that you did her much honour."</p> + +<p>"Psha!" said he, turning away from her.</p> + +<p>"Ah! but you must listen to me. That is what we all think—Madeline +herself, and I, and her father. No one who knows you could think +otherwise. We all like you, and know how good and excellent you are. +And as to worldly station, of course you stand above her."</p> + +<p>"Psha!" he said again angrily. How could any one presume to talk of +the worldly station of his goddess? For just then Madeline Staveley +to him was a goddess!</p> + +<p>"That is what we think, indeed, Mr. Orme. As for myself, had my girl +come to me telling me that you had proposed to her, and telling me +also that—that—that she felt that she might probably like you, I +should have been very happy to hear it." And Lady Staveley as she +spoke, put out her hand to him.</p> + +<p>"But what did she say?" asked Peregrine, altogether disregarding the +hand.</p> + +<p>"Ah, she did not say that. She told me that she had declined the +honour that you had offered her;—that she did not regard you as she +must regard the man to whom she would pledge her heart."</p> + +<p>"But did she say that she could never love me?" And now as he asked +the question he stood up again, looking down with all his eyes into +Lady Staveley's face,—that face which would have been so friendly to +him, so kind and so encouraging, had it been possible.</p> + +<p>"Never is a long word, Mr. Orme."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but did she say it? Come, Lady Staveley; I know I have been a +fool, but I am not a cowardly fool. If it be so;—if I have no hope, +tell me at once, that I may go away. In that case I shall be better +anywhere out of the county."</p> + +<p>"I cannot say that you should have no hope."</p> + +<p>"You think then that there is a chance?" and for a moment he looked +as though all his troubles were nearly over.</p> + +<p>"If you are so impetuous, Mr. Orme, I cannot speak to you. If you +will sit down for a minute or two I will tell you exactly what I +think about it." And then he sat down, trying to look as though he +were not impetuous. "I should be deceiving you if I were not to tell +you that she speaks of the matter as though it were all over,—as +though her answer to you was a final one."</p> + +<p>"Ah; I knew it was so."</p> + +<p>"But then, Mr. Orme, many young ladies who have been at the first +moment quite as sure of their decision have married the gentlemen +whom they refused, and have learned to love them with all their +hearts."</p> + +<p>"But she isn't like other girls," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"I believe she is a great deal better than many, but nevertheless she +may be like others in that respect. I do not say that it will be so, +Mr. Orme. I would not on any account give you hopes which I believed +to be false. But if you are anxious in the +<span class="nowrap">matter—"</span></p> + +<p>"I am as anxious about it as I am about my soul!"</p> + +<p>"Oh fie, Mr. Orme! You should not speak in that way. But if you are +anxious, I would advise you to wait."</p> + +<p>"And see her become the wife of some one else."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Mr. Orme. Madeline is very young. And so indeed are +you too;—almost too young to marry as yet, even if my girl were +willing that it should be so. But we all like you very much; and as +you both are so very young, I think that you might wait with +patience,—say for a year. Then come to Noningsby again, and try your +fortune once more. That is my advice."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me one thing, Lady Staveley?"</p> + +<p>"What is that, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Does she care for any one else?"</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley was prepared to do anything she could for her young +friend except to answer that question. She did believe that Madeline +cared for somebody else,—cared very much. But she did not think that +any way would be opened by which that caring would be made manifest; +and she thought also that if wholly ungratified by any word of +intercourse that feeling would die away. Could she have told +everything to Peregrine Orme she would have explained to him that his +best chance lay in that liking for Felix Graham; or, rather, that as +his rejection had been caused by that liking, his chance would be +good again when that liking should have perished from starvation. But +all this Lady Staveley could not explain to him; nor would it have +been satisfactory to her feelings had it been in her power to do so. +Still there remained the question, "Does she care for any one else?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Orme," she said, "I will do all for you that a mother can do or +ought to do; but I must not admit that you have a right to ask such a +question as that. If I were to answer that now, you would feel +yourself justified in asking it again when perhaps it might not be so +easy to answer."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Lady Staveley;" and Peregrine blushed up to his +eyes. "I did not <span class="nowrap">intend—"</span></p> + +<p>"No; do not beg my pardon, seeing that you have given me no offence. +As I said just now, all that a mother can and ought to do I will do +for you. I am very frank, and tell you that I should be rejoiced to +have you for my son-in-law."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you."</p> + +<p>"But neither by me nor by her father will any constraint ever be put +on the inclinations of our child. At any rate as to whom she will not +accept she will always be allowed to judge for herself. I have told +you that to us you would be acceptable as a suitor; and after that I +think it will be best to leave the matter for the present without any +further words. Let it be understood that you will spend next +Christmas at Noningsby, and then you will both be older and perhaps +know your own minds better."</p> + +<p>"That's a year, you know."</p> + +<p>"A year is not so very long—at your time of life." By which latter +remark Lady Staveley did not show her knowledge of human nature.</p> + +<p>"And I suppose I had better go now?" said Peregrine sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"If you like to go into the drawing-room, I'm sure they will all be +very glad to see you."</p> + +<p>But Peregrine declared that he would not do this on any account. "You +do not know, Lady Staveley, what a fool I should make myself. It +would be all over with me then."</p> + +<p>"You should be more moderate in your feelings, Mr. Orme."</p> + +<p>"It's all very well saying that; but you wouldn't be moderate if +Noningsby were on fire, or if you thought the judge was going to +die."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Mr. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"It's the same sort of thing to me, I can tell you. A man can't be +moderate when he feels that he should like to break his own neck. I +declare I almost tried to do it to-day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"Well; I did. But don't suppose I say that as a sort of threat. I'm +safe enough to live for the next sixty years. It's only the happy +people and those that are some good in the world that die. Good-bye, +Lady Staveley. I'll come back next Christmas;—that is if it isn't +all settled before then; but I know it will be no good." Then he got +on his horse and rode very slowly home, along the high road to The +Cleeve.</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley did not go in among the other ladies till luncheon was +announced, and when she did so, she said no word about her visitor. +Nevertheless it was known by them all that Peregrine Orme had been +there. "Ah, that's Mr. Orme's roan-coloured horse," Sophia Furnival +had said, getting up and thrusting her face close to the drawing-room +window. It was barely possible to see a portion of the road from the +drawing-room; but Sophia's eyes had been sharp enough to see that +portion.</p> + +<p>"A groom has probably come over with a note," said Mrs. Arbuthnot.</p> + +<p>"Very likely," said Sophia. But they all knew from her voice that the +rider was no groom, and that she did not intend it to be thought that +he was a groom. Madeline said not a word, and kept her countenance +marvellously; but she knew well enough that Peregrine had been with +her mother; and guessed also why he had been there.</p> + +<p>Madeline had asked herself some serious questions, and had answered +them also, since that conversation which she had had with her father. +He had assured her that he desired only her happiness; and though in +so saying he had spoken nothing of marriage, she had well understood +that he had referred to her future happiness,—at that time when by +her own choice she should be leaving her father's house. And now she +asked herself boldly in what way might that happiness be best +secured. Hitherto she had refrained from any such home questions. +Latterly, within the last week or two, ideas of what love meant had +forced themselves upon her mind. How could it have been otherwise? +But she had never dared to tell herself either that she did love, or +that she did not. Mr. Orme had come to her with his offer, plainly +asking her for the gift of her heart, and she had immediately been +aware that any such gift on her part was impossible,—any such gift +in his favour. She had known without a moment's thought that there +was no room for hesitation. Had he asked her to take wings and fly +away with him over the woods, the feat would not have been to her +more impossible than that of loving him as his wife. Yet she liked +him,—liked him much in these latter days, because he had been so +good to Felix Graham. When she felt that she liked him as she refused +him, she felt also that it was for this reason that she liked him. On +the day of Graham's accident she had thought nothing of him,—had +hardly spoken to him. But now she loved him—with a sort of love, +because he had been so good to Graham. Though in her heart she knew +all this, she asked herself no questions till her father had spoken +to her of her future happiness.</p> + +<p>Then, as she wandered about the house alone,—for she still went on +wandering,—she did ask herself a question or two. What was it that +had changed her thus, and made her gay quick step so slow? what had +altered the happy silver tone of her voice? what had created that +load within her which seemed to weigh her down during every hour of +the day? She knew that there had been a change; that she was not as +she had been; and now she asked herself the question. Not on the +first asking nor on the second did the answer come; not perhaps on +the twentieth. But the answer did come at last, and she told herself +that her heart was no longer her own. She knew and acknowledged to +herself that Felix Graham was its master and owner.</p> + +<p>And then came the second question. Under those circumstances what had +she better do? Her mother had told her,—and the words had fallen +deep into her ears,—that it would be a great misfortune if she loved +any man before she had reason to know that that man loved her. She +had no such knowledge as regarded Felix Graham. A suspicion that it +might be so she did feel,—a suspicion which would grow into a hope +let her struggle against it as she might. Baker, that injudicious +Baker, had dropped in her hearing a word or two, which assisted this +suspicion. And then the open frank question put to her by her father +when he demanded whether Graham had addressed her as a lover, had +tended towards the same result. What had she better do? Of one thing +she now felt perfectly certain. Let the world go as it might in other +respects, she could never leave her father's house as a bride unless +the bridegroom were Felix Graham. A marriage with him might probably +be impracticable, but any other marriage would be absolutely +impossible. If her father or her mother told her not to think of +Felix Graham, as a matter of course she would obey them; but not even +in obedience to father or mother could she say that she loved any one +else.</p> + +<p>And now, all these matters having been considered, what should she +do? Her father had invited her to tell everything to him, and she was +possessed by a feeling that in this matter she might possibly find +more indulgence with her father than with her mother; but yet it was +more natural that her mother should be her confidante and adviser. +She could speak to her mother, also, with a better courage, even +though she felt less certain of sympathy. Peregrine Orme had now been +there again, and had been closeted With Lady Staveley. On that ground +she would speak, and having so resolved she lost no time in carrying +out her purpose.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, Mr. Orme was here to-day; was he not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my love." Lady Staveley was sorry rather than otherwise that +her daughter had asked her, but would have been puzzled to explain +why such should have been the case.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"He rode over, and told me among other things that the match between +his grandfather and Lady Mason is at an end. I was very glad to hear +it, for I thought that Sir Peregrine was going to do a very foolish +thing." And then there were a few further remarks on that subject, +made probably by Lady Staveley with some undefined intention of +inducing her daughter to think that Peregrine Orme had come over +chiefly on that matter.</p> + +<p>"But, mamma—"</p> + +<p>"Well, my love."</p> + +<p>"Did he say anything about—about what he was speaking to me about?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Madeline; he did. He did say something on that subject; but I +had not intended to tell you unless you had asked."</p> + +<p>"I hope, mamma, he understands that what he wants can never +happen;—that is if he does want it now?"</p> + +<p>"He does want it certainly, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Then I hope you told him that it can never be? I hope you did, +mamma!"</p> + +<p>"But why should you be so certain about it, my love? He does not +intend to trouble you with his suit,—nor do I. Why not leave that to +time? There can be no reason why you should not see him again on a +friendly footing when this embarrassment between you shall have +passed away."</p> + +<p>"There would be no reason, mamma, if he were quite sure that there +could never be any other footing."</p> + +<p>"Never is a very long word."</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill50" id="ill50"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill50.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill50-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Never is a very long word."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Never is a very long word."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill50.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"But it is the only true word, mamma. It would be wrong in you, it +would indeed, if you were to tell him to come again. I like Mr. Orme +very much as a friend, and I should be very glad to know him,—that +is if he chose to know me." And Madeline as she made this little +proviso was thinking what her own worldly position might be as the +wife of Felix Graham. "But as it is quite impossible that he and I +should ever be anything else to each other, he should not be asked to +come here with any other intention."</p> + +<p>"But Madeline, I do not see that it is so impossible."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, it is impossible; quite impossible!" To this assertion Lady +Staveley made no answer in words, but there was that in her +countenance which made her daughter understand that she did not quite +agree in this assertion, or understand this impossibility.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, it is quite, quite impossible!" Madeline repeated.</p> + +<p>"But why so?" said Lady Staveley, frightened by her daughter's +manner, and almost fearing that something further was to come which +had by far better be left unsaid.</p> + +<p>"Because, mamma, I have no love to give him. Oh, mamma, do not be +angry with me; do not push me away. You know who it is that I love. +You knew it before." And then she threw herself on her knees, and hid +her face on her mother's lap.</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley had known it, but up to that moment she had hoped that +that knowledge might have remained hidden as though it were unknown.</p> + + +<p><a name="c51" id="c51"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LI.</h4> +<h3>MRS. FURNIVAL'S JOURNEY TO HAMWORTH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Peregrine got back to The Cleeve he learned that there was a +lady with his mother. He had by this time partially succeeded in +reasoning himself out of his despondency. He had learned at any rate +that his proposition to marry into the Staveley family had been +regarded with favour by all that family except the one whose views on +that subject were by far the most important to him; and he had +learned, as he thought, that Lady Staveley had no suspicion that her +daughter's heart was preoccupied. But in this respect Lady Staveley +had been too cunning for him. "Wait!" he said to himself as he went +slowly along the road. "It's all very well to say wait, but there are +some things which won't bear waiting for. A man who waits never gets +well away with the hounds." Nevertheless as he rode into the +courtyard his hopes were somewhat higher than they had been when he +rode out of it.</p> + +<p>"A lady! what lady? You don't mean Lady Mason?"</p> + +<p>No. The servant did not mean Lady Mason. It was an elderly stout lady +who had come in a fly, and the elderly stout lady was now in the +drawing-room with his mother. Lady Mason was still up stairs. We all +know who was that elderly stout lady, and we must now go back and say +a few words as to her journey from Orange Street to Hamworth.</p> + +<p>On the preceding evening Mrs. Furnival had told Martha Biggs what was +her intention; Or perhaps it would be more just to say that Martha +Biggs had worked it out of her. Now that Mrs. Furnival had left the +fashionable neighbourhood of Cavendish Square, and located herself in +that eastern homely district to which Miss Biggs had been so long +accustomed, Miss Biggs had been almost tyrannical. It was not that +she was less attentive to her friend, or less willing to slave for +her with a view to any possible or impossible result. But the friend +of Mrs. Furnival's bosom could not help feeling her opportunity. Mrs. +Furnival had now thrown herself very much upon her friend, and of +course the friend now expected unlimited privileges;—as is always +the case with friends in such a position. It is very well to have +friends to lean upon, but it is not always well to lean upon one's +friends.</p> + +<p>"I will be with you before you start in the morning," said Martha.</p> + +<p>"It will not be at all necessary," said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I shall indeed. And, Kitty, I should think nothing of going +with you, if you would wish it. Indeed I think you should have a +female friend alongside of you in such a trouble. You have only to +say the word and I'll go in a minute."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival however did not say the word, and Miss Biggs was +obliged to deny herself the pleasure of the journey. But true to her +word she came in the morning in ample time to catch Mrs. Furnival +before she started, and for half an hour poured out sweet counsel +into her friend's ear. If one's friends would as a rule refrain from +action how much more strongly would real friendship flourish in the +world!</p> + +<p>"Now, Kitty, I do trust you will persist in seeing her."</p> + +<p>"That's why I'm going there."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but she might put you off it, if you're not firm. Of course +she'll deny herself if you send in your name first. What I should do +would be this;—to ask to be shown in to her and then follow the +servant. When the happiness of a life is at stake,—the happinesses +of two lives I may say, and perhaps the immortal welfare of one of +them in another world,—one must not stand too much upon etiquette. +You would never forgive yourself if you did. Your object is to save +him and to shame her out of her vile conduct. To shame her and +frighten her out of it if that be possible. Follow the servant in and +don't give them a moment to think. That's my advice."</p> + +<p>In answer to all this Mrs. Furnival did not say much, and what little +she did say was neither in the affirmative nor in the negative. +Martha knew that she was being ill treated, but not on that account +did she relax her friendly efforts. The time would soon come, if all +things went well, when Mrs. Furnival would be driven by the +loneliness of her position to open her heart in a truly loving and +confidential manner. Miss Biggs hoped sincerely that her friend and +her friend's husband might be brought together again;—perhaps by her +own efforts; but she did not anticipate,—or perhaps desire any +speedy termination of the present arrangements. It would be well that +Mr. Furnival should be punished by a separation of some months. Then, +when he had learned to know what it was to have a home without a +"presiding genius," he might, if duly penitent and open in his +confession, be forgiven. That was Miss Biggs's programme, and she +thought it probable that Mrs. Furnival might want a good deal of +consolation before that day of open confession arrived.</p> + +<p>"I shall go with you as far as the station, Kitty," she said in a +very decided voice.</p> + +<p>"It will not be at all necessary," Mrs. Furnival replied.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I shall. You must want support at such a moment as this, and +as far as I can give it you shall have it."</p> + +<p>"But it won't be any support to have you in the cab with me. If you +will believe me, I had rather go alone. It is so necessary that I +should think about all this."</p> + +<p>But Martha would not believe her; and as for thinking, she was quite +ready to take that part of the work herself. "Don't say another +word," she said, as she thrust herself in at the cab-door after her +friend. Mrs. Furnival hardly did say another word, but Martha Biggs +said many. She knew that Mrs. Furnival was cross, ill pleased, and +not disposed to confidence. But what of that? Her duty as a friend +was not altered by Mrs. Furnival's ill humour. She would persevere, +and having in her hands so great an opportunity, did not despair but +what the time might come when both Mr. and Mrs. Furnival would with +united voices hail her as their preserver. Poor Martha Biggs! She did +not mean amiss; but she was troublesome.</p> + +<p>It was very necessary that Mrs. Furnival should think over the step +which she was taking. What was it that she intended to do when she +arrived at Hamworth? That plan of forcing her way into Lady Mason's +house did not recommend itself to her the more in that it was +recommended by Martha Biggs. "I suppose you will come up to us this +evening?" Martha said, when she left her friend in the railway +carriage. "Not this evening, I think. I shall be so tired," Mrs. +Furnival had replied. "Then I shall come down to you," said Martha, +almost holloaing after her friend, as the train started. Mr. Furnival +would not have been displeased had he known the state of his wife's +mind at that moment towards her late visitor. During the whole of her +journey down to Hamworth she tried to think what she would say to +Lady Mason, but instead of so thinking her mind would revert to the +unpleasantness of Miss Biggs's friendship.</p> + +<p>When she left the train at the Hamworth station she was solicited by +the driver of a public vehicle to use his fly, and having ascertained +from the man that he well knew the position of Orley Farm, she got +into the carriage and had herself driven to the residence of her +hated rival. She had often heard of Orley Farm, but she had never as +yet seen it, and now felt considerable anxiety both as regards the +house and its occupant.</p> + +<p>"This is Orley Farm, ma'am," said the man, stopping at the gate. +"Shall I drive up?"</p> + +<p>But at this moment the gate was opened by a decent, respectable +woman,—Mrs. Furnival would not quite have called her a lady,—who +looked hard at the fly as it turned on to the private road.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps this lady could tell me," said Mrs. Furnival, putting out +her hand. "Is this where Lady Mason lives?"</p> + +<p>The woman was Mrs. Dockwrath. On that day Samuel Dockwrath had gone +to London, but before starting he had made known to his wife with +fiendish glee that it had been at last decided by all the persons +concerned that Lady Mason should be charged with perjury, and tried +for that offence.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say that the judges have said so?" asked poor +Miriam.</p> + +<p>"I do mean to say that all the judges in England could not save her +from having to stand her trial, and it is my belief that all the +lawyers in the land cannot save her from conviction. I wonder whether +she ever thinks now of those fields which she took away from me!"</p> + +<p>Then, when her master's back was turned, she put on her bonnet and +walked up to Orley Farm. She knew well that Lady Mason was at The +Cleeve, and believed that she was about to become the wife of Sir +Peregrine; but she knew also that Lucius was at home, and it might be +well to let him know what was going on. She had just seen Lucius +Mason when she was met by Mrs. Furnival's fly. She had seen Lucius +Mason, and the angry manner in which he declared that he could in no +way interfere in his mother's affairs had frightened her. "But, Mr. +Lucius," she had said, "she ought to be doing something, you know. +There is no believing how bitter Samuel is about it."</p> + +<p>"He may be as bitter as he likes, Mrs. Dockwrath," young Mason had +answered with considerable dignity in his manner. "It will not in the +least affect my mother's interests. In the present instance, however, +I am not her adviser." Whereupon Mrs. Dockwrath had retired, and as +she was afraid to go to Lady Mason at The Cleeve, she was about to +return home when she opened the gate for Mrs. Furnival. She then +explained that Lady Mason was not at home and had not been at home +for some weeks; that she was staying with her friends at The Cleeve, +and that in order to get there Mrs. Furnival must go back through +Hamworth and round by the high road.</p> + +<p>"I knows the way well enough, Mrs. Dockwrath," said the driver. "I've +been at The Cleeve before now, I guess."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Furnival was driven back to Hamworth, and on going over that +piece of ground she resolved that she would follow Lady Mason to The +Cleeve. Why should she be afraid of Sir Peregrine Orme or of all the +Ormes? Why should she fear any one while engaged in the performance +of so sacred a duty? I must confess that in truth she was very much +afraid, but nevertheless she had herself taken on to The Cleeve. When +she arrived at the door, she asked of course for Lady Mason, but did +not feel at all inclined to follow the servant uninvited into the +house as recommended by Miss Biggs. Lady Mason, the man said, was not +very well, and after a certain amount of parley at the door the +matter ended in her being shown into the drawing-room, where she was +soon joined by Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"I am Mrs. Furnival," she began, and then Mrs. Orme begged her to sit +down. "I have come here to see Lady Mason—on some business—some +business not of a very pleasant nature. I'm sure I don't know how to +trouble you with it, and +<span class="nowrap">yet—"</span> And then even Mrs. Orme could see +that her visitor was somewhat confused.</p> + +<p>"Is it about the trial?" asked Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Then there is really a lawsuit going on?"</p> + +<p>"A lawsuit!" said Mrs. Orme, rather puzzled.</p> + +<p>"You said something about a trial. Now, Mrs. Orme, pray do not +deceive me. I'm a very unhappy woman; I am indeed."</p> + +<p>"Deceive you! Why should I deceive you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. Why should you? And now I look at you I do not think you +will."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I will not, Mrs. Furnival."</p> + +<p>"And there is really a lawsuit then?" Mrs. Furnival persisted in +asking.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would know all about it," said Mrs. Orme, "as Mr. +Furnival manages Lady Mason's law business. I thought that perhaps it +was about that that you had come."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Furnival explained that she knew nothing whatever about +Lady Mason's affairs, that hitherto she had not believed that there +was any trial or any lawsuit, and gradually explained the cause of +all her trouble. She did not do this without sundry interruptions, +caused both by her own feelings and by Mrs. Orme's exclamations. But +at last it all came forth; and before she had done she was calling +her husband Tom, and appealing to her listener for sympathy.</p> + +<p>"But indeed it's a mistake, Mrs. Furnival. It is indeed. There are +reasons which make me quite sure of it." So spoke Mrs. Orme. How +could Lady Mason have been in love with Mr. Furnival,—if such a +state of things could be possible under any circumstances,—seeing +that she had been engaged to marry Sir Peregrine? Mrs. Orme did not +declare her reasons, but repeated with very positive assurances her +knowledge that Mrs. Furnival was labouring under some very grievous +error.</p> + +<p>"But why should she always be at his chambers? I have seen her there +twice, Mrs. Orme. I have indeed;—with my own eyes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme would have thought nothing of it if Lady Mason had been +seen there every day for a week together, and regarded Mrs. +Furnival's suspicions as an hallucination bordering on insanity. A +woman be in love with Mr. Furnival! A very pretty woman endeavour to +entice away from his wife the affection of such a man as that! As +these ideas passed through Mrs. Orme's mind she did not perhaps +remember that Sir Peregrine, who was more than ten years Mr. +Furnival's senior, had been engaged to marry the same lady. But then +she herself loved Sir Peregrine dearly, and she had no such feeling +with reference to Mr. Furnival. She however did what was most within +her power to do to allay the suffering under which her visitor +laboured, and explained to her the position in which Lady Mason was +placed. "I do not think she can see you," she ended by saying, "for +she is in very great trouble."</p> + +<p>"To be tried for perjury!" said Mrs. Furnival, out of whose heart all +hatred towards Lady Mason was quickly departing. Had she heard that +she was to be tried for murder,—that she had been convicted for +murder,—it would have altogether softened her heart towards her +supposed enemy. She could forgive her any offence but the one.</p> + +<p>"Yes indeed," said Mrs. Orme, wiping a tear away from her eye as she +thought of all the troubles present and to come. "It is the saddest +thing. Poor lady! It would almost break your heart if you were to see +her. Since first she heard of this, which was before Christmas, she +has not had one quiet moment."</p> + +<p>"Poor creature!" said Mrs. Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you would say so, if you knew all. She has had to depend a great +deal upon Mr. Furnival for advice, and without that I don't know what +she would do." This Mrs. Orme said, not wishing to revert to the +charge against Lady Mason which had brought Mrs. Furnival down to +Hamworth, but still desirous of emancipating her poor friend +completely from that charge. "And Sir Peregrine also is very kind to +her,—very." This she added; feeling that up to that moment Mrs. +Furnival could have heard nothing of the intended marriage, but +thinking it probable that she must do so before long. "Indeed anybody +would be kind to her who saw her in her suffering. I am sure you +would, Mrs. Furnival."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Furnival who was beginning to entertain +almost a kindly feeling towards Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"It is such a dreadful position for a lady. Sometimes I think that +her mind will fail her before the day comes."</p> + +<p>"But what a very wicked man that other Mr. Mason must be!" said Mrs. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>That was a view of the matter on which Mrs. Orme could not say much. +She disliked that Mr. Mason as much as she could dislike a man whom +she had never seen, but it was not open to her now to say that he was +very wicked in this matter. "I suppose he thinks the property ought +to belong to him," she answered.</p> + +<p>"That was settled years ago," said Mrs. Furnival. "Horrid, cruel man! +But after all I don't see why she should mind it so much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Furnival!—to stand in a court and be tried."</p> + +<p>"But if one is innocent! For my part, if I knew myself innocent I +could brave them all. It is the feeling that one is wrong that cows +one." And Mrs. Furnival thought of the little confession which she +would be called upon to make at home.</p> + +<p>And then feeling some difficulty as to her last words in such an +interview, Mrs. Furnival got up to go. "Perhaps, Mrs. Orme," she +said, "I have been foolish in this."</p> + +<p>"You have been mistaken, Mrs. Furnival. I am sure of that."</p> + +<p>"I begin to think I have. But, Mrs. Orme, will you let me ask you a +favour? Perhaps you will not say anything about my coming here. I +have been very unhappy; I have indeed; +<span class="nowrap">and—"</span> Mrs. Furnival's +handkerchief was now up at her eyes, and Mrs. Orme's heart was again +full of pity. Of course she gave the required promise; and, looking +to the character of the woman, we may say that, of course, she kept +it.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Furnival! What was she here about?" Peregrine asked of his +mother.</p> + +<p>"I would rather not tell you, Perry," said his mother, kissing him; +and then there were no more words spoken on the subject.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Furnival as she made her journey back to London began to dislike +Martha Biggs more and more, and most unjustly attributed to that lady +in her thoughts the folly of this journey to Hamworth. The journey to +Hamworth had been her own doing, and had the idea originated with +Miss Biggs the journey would never have been made. As it was, while +she was yet in the train, she came to the strong resolution of +returning direct from the London station to her own house in Harley +Street. It would be best to cut the knot at once, and thus by a bold +stroke of the knife rid herself of the Orange Street rooms and Miss +Biggs at the same time. She did drive to Harley Street, and on her +arrival at her own door was informed by the astonished Spooner that, +"Master was at home,—all alone in the dining-room. He was going to +dine at home, and seemed very lonely like." There, as she stood in +the hall, there was nothing but the door between her and her husband, +and she conceived that the sound of her arrival must have been heard +by him. For a moment her courage was weak, and she thought of +hurrying up stairs. Had she done so her trouble would still have been +all before her. Some idea of this came upon her mind, and after a +moment's pause, she opened the dining-room door and found herself in +her husband's presence. He was sitting over the fire in his +arm-chair, very gloomily, and had not heard the arrival. He too had +some tenderness left in his heart, and this going away of his wife +had distressed him.</p> + +<p>"Tom," she said, going up to him, and speaking in a low voice, "I +have come back again." And she stood before him as a suppliant.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill51" id="ill51"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill51.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill51-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Tom," she said, "I have come back."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Tom," she said, "I have come back."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill51.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<p><a name="c52" id="c52"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LII.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW THINGS WENT ON AT NONINGSBY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Yes, Lady Staveley had known it before. She had given a fairly +correct guess at the state of her daughter's affections, though she +had not perhaps acknowledged to herself the intensity of her +daughter's feelings. But the fact might not have mattered if it had +never been told. Madeline might have overcome this love for Mr. +Graham, and all might have been well if she had never mentioned it. +But now the mischief was done. She had acknowledged to her +mother,—and, which was perhaps worse, she had acknowledged to +herself,—that her heart was gone, and Lady Staveley saw no cure for +the evil. Had this happened but a few hours earlier she would have +spoken with much less of encouragement to Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>And Felix Graham was not only in the house, but was to remain there +for yet a while longer, spending a very considerable portion of his +time in the drawing-room. He was to come down on this very day at +three o'clock, after an early dinner, and on the next day he was to +be promoted to the dining-room. As a son-in-law he was quite +ineligible. He had, as Lady Staveley understood, no private fortune, +and he belonged to a profession which he would not follow in the only +way by which it was possible to earn an income by it. Such being the +case, her daughter, whom of all girls she knew to be the most +retiring, the least likely to speak of such feelings unless driven to +it by great stress,—her daughter had positively declared to her that +she was in love with this man! Could anything be more hopeless? Could +any position be more trying?</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" she said, almost wringing her hands in +her vexation,—"No, my darling I am not angry," and she kissed her +child and smoothed her hair. "I am not angry; but I must say I think +it very unfortunate. He has not a shilling in the world."</p> + +<p>"I will do nothing that you and papa do not approve," said Madeline, +holding down her head.</p> + +<p>"And then you know he doesn't think of such a thing himself—of +course he does not. Indeed, I don't think he's a marrying man at +all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, do not talk in that way;—as if I expected anything. I +could not but tell you the truth when you spoke of Mr. Orme as you +did."</p> + +<p>"Poor Mr. Orme! he is such an excellent young man."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose he's better than Mr. Graham, mamma, if you speak of +goodness."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," said Lady Staveley, very much put beside +herself. "I wish there were no such things as young men at all. +There's Augustus making a fool of himself." And she walked twice the +length of the room in an agony of maternal anxiety. Peregrine Orme +had suggested to her what she would feel if Noningsby were on fire; +but could any such fire be worse than these pernicious love flames? +He had also suggested another calamity, and as Lady Staveley +remembered that, she acknowledged to herself that the Fates were not +so cruel to her as they might have been. So she kissed her daughter, +again assured her that she was by no means angry with her, and then +they parted.</p> + +<p>This trouble had now come to such a head that no course was any +longer open to poor Lady Staveley, but that one which she had adopted +in all the troubles of her married life. She would tell the judge +everything, and throw all the responsibility upon his back. Let him +decide whether a cold shoulder or a paternal blessing should be +administered to the ugly young man up stairs, who had tumbled off his +horse the first day he went out hunting, and who would not earn his +bread as others did, but thought himself cleverer than all the world. +The feelings in Lady Staveley's breast towards Mr. Graham at this +especial time were not of a kindly nature. She could not make +comparisons between him and Peregrine Orme without wondering at her +daughter's choice. Peregrine was fair and handsome, one of the curled +darlings of the nation, bright of eye and smooth of skin, +good-natured, of a sweet disposition, a young man to be loved by all +the world, and—incidentally—the heir to a baronetcy and a good +estate. All his people were nice, and he lived close in the +neighbourhood! Had Lady Staveley been set to choose a husband for her +daughter she could have chosen none better. And then she counted up +Felix Graham. His eyes no doubt were bright enough, but taken +altogether he was,—at least so she said to herself—hideously ugly. +He was by no means a curled darling. And then he was masterful in +mind, and not soft and pleasant as was young Orme. He was heir to +nothing; and as to people of his own he had none in particular. Who +could say where he must live? As likely as not in Patagonia, having +been forced to accept a judgeship in that new colony for the sake of +bread. But her daughter should not go to Patagonia with him if she +could help it! So when the judge came home that evening, she told him +all before she would allow him to dress for dinner.</p> + +<p>"He certainly is not very handsome," the judge said, when Lady +Staveley insisted somewhat strongly on that special feature of the +case.</p> + +<p>"I think he is the ugliest young man I know," said her ladyship.</p> + +<p>"He looks very well in his wig," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"Wig! Madeline would not see him in a wig; nor anybody else very +often, seeing the way he is going on about his profession. What are +we to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"Well. I should say, do nothing."</p> + +<p>"And let him propose to the dear girl if he chooses to take the fancy +into his head?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see how we are to hinder him. But I have that impression of +Mr. Graham that I do not think he will do anything unhandsome by us. +He has some singular ideas of his own about law, and I grant you that +he is <span class="nowrap">plain—"</span></p> + +<p>"The plainest young man I ever saw," said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"But, if I know him, he is a man of high character and much more than +ordinary acquirement."</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand Madeline," Lady Staveley went on, not caring +overmuch about Felix Graham's acquirements.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, I think the key to her choice is this, that she has +judged not with her eyes, but with her ears, or rather with her +understanding. Had she accepted Mr. Orme, I as a father should of +course have been well satisfied. He is, I have no doubt, a fine young +fellow, and will make a good husband some day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, excellent!" said her ladyship; "and The Cleeve is only seven +miles."</p> + +<p>"But I must acknowledge that I cannot feel angry with Madeline."</p> + +<p>"Angry! no, not angry. Who would be angry with the poor child?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I am somewhat proud of her. It seems to me that she prefers +mind to matter, which is a great deal to say for a young lady."</p> + +<p>"Matter!" exclaimed Lady Staveley, who could not but feel that the +term, as applied to such a young man as Peregrine Orme, was very +opprobrious.</p> + +<p>"Wit and intellect and power of expression have gone further with her +than good looks and rank and worldly prosperity. If that be so, and I +believe it is, I cannot but love her the better for it."</p> + +<p>"So do I love her, as much as any mother can love her daughter."</p> + +<p>"Of course you do." And the judge kissed his wife.</p> + +<p>"And I like wit and genius and all that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Otherwise you would have not taken me, my dear."</p> + +<p>"You were the handsomest man of your day. That's why I fell in love +with you."</p> + +<p>"The compliment is a very poor one," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. I like wit and genius too; but wit and genius are +none the better for being ugly; and wit and genius should know how to +butter their own bread before they think of taking a wife."</p> + +<p>"You forget, my dear, that for aught we know wit and genius may be +perfectly free from any such thought." And then the judge made it +understood that if he were left to himself he would dress for dinner.</p> + +<p>When the ladies left the parlour that evening they found Graham in +the drawing-room, but there was no longer any necessity for +embarrassment on Madeline's part at meeting him. They had been in the +room together on three or four occasions, and therefore she could +give him her hand, and ask after his arm without feeling that every +one was watching her. But she hardly spoke to him beyond this, nor +indeed did she speak much to anybody. The conversation, till the +gentlemen joined them, was chiefly kept up by Sophia Furnival and +Mrs. Arbuthnot, and even after that the evening did not pass very +briskly.</p> + +<p>One little scene there was, during which poor Lady Staveley's eyes +were anxiously fixed upon her son, though most of those in the room +supposed that she was sleeping. Miss Furnival was to return to London +on the following day, and it therefore behoved Augustus to be very +sad. In truth he had been rather given to a melancholy humour during +the last day or two. Had Miss Furnival accepted all his civil +speeches, making him answers equally civil, the matter might very +probably have passed by without giving special trouble to any one. +But she had not done this, and therefore Augustus Staveley had +fancied himself to be really in love with her. What the lady's +intentions were I will not pretend to say; but if she was in truth +desirous of becoming Mrs. Staveley, she certainly went about her +business in a discreet and wise manner.</p> + +<p>"So you leave us to-morrow, immediately after breakfast," said he, +having dressed his face with that romantic sobriety which he had been +practising for the last three days.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to say that such is the fact," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth I am not sorry," said Augustus; and he turned +away his face for a moment, giving a long sigh.</p> + +<p>"I dare say not, Mr. Staveley; but you need not have said so to me," +said Sophia, pretending to take him literally at his word.</p> + +<p>"Because I cannot stand this kind of thing any longer. I suppose I +must not see you in the morning,—alone?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose not. If I can get down to prayers after having all +my things packed up, it will be as much as I can do."</p> + +<p>"And if I begged for half an hour as a last +<span class="nowrap">kindness—"</span></p> + +<p>"I certainly should not grant it. Go and ask your mother whether such +a request would be reasonable."</p> + +<p>"Psha!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but it's not psha! Half-hours between young ladies and young +gentlemen before breakfast are very serious things."</p> + +<p>"And I mean to be serious," said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"But I don't," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"I am to understand then that under no possible +<span class="nowrap">circumstances—"</span></p> + +<p>"Bless me, Mr. Staveley, how solemn you are."</p> + +<p>"There are occasions in a man's life when he is bound to be solemn. +You are going away from us, Miss +<span class="nowrap">Furnival—"</span></p> + +<p>"One would think I was going to Jeddo, whereas I am going to Harley +Street."</p> + +<p>"And I may come and see you there!"</p> + +<p>"Of course you may if you like it. According to the usages of the +world you would be reckoned very uncivil if you did not. For myself I +do not much care about such usages, and therefore if you omit it I +will forgive you."</p> + +<p>"Very well; then I will say good-night,—and good-bye." These last +words he uttered in a strain which should have melted her heart, and +as he took leave of her he squeezed her hand with an affection that +was almost painful.</p> + +<p>It may be remarked that if Augustus Staveley was quite in earnest +with Sophia Furnival, he would have asked her that all-important +question in a straightforward manner as Peregrine Orme had asked it +of Madeline. Perhaps Miss Furnival was aware of this, and, being so +aware, considered that a serious half-hour before breakfast might not +as yet be safe. If he were really in love he would find his way to +Harley Street. On the whole I am inclined to think that Miss Furnival +did understand her business.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Miss Furnival went her way without any +further scenes of tenderness, and Lady Staveley was thoroughly glad +that she was gone. "A nasty, sly thing," she said to Baker. "Sly +enough, my lady," said Baker; "but our Mr. Augustus will be one too +many for her. Deary me, to think of her having the imperance to think +of him." In all which Miss Furnival was I think somewhat ill used. If +young gentlemen, such as Augustus Staveley, are allowed to amuse +themselves with young ladies, surely young ladies such as Miss +Furnival should be allowed to play their own cards accordingly.</p> + +<p>On that day, early in the morning, Felix Graham sought and obtained +an interview with his host in the judge's own study. "I have come +about two things," he said, taking the easy chair to which he was +invited.</p> + +<p>"Two or ten, I shall be very happy," said the judge cheerily.</p> + +<p>"I will take business first," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"And then pleasure will be the sweeter afterwards," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking a great deal about this case of Lady Mason's, +and I have read all the papers, old and new, which Mr. Furnival has +sent me. I cannot bring myself to suppose it possible that she can +have been guilty of any fraud or deception."</p> + +<p>"I believe her to be free from all guilt in the matter—as I told you +before. But then of course you will take that as a private opinion, +not as one legally formed. I have never gone into the matter as you +have done."</p> + +<p>"I confess that I do not like having dealings with Mr. Chaffanbrass +and Mr. Aram."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Aram may not be so bad as you, perhaps in +ignorance, suppose them to be. Does it not occur to you that we +should be very badly off without such men as Chaffanbrass and Aram?"</p> + +<p>"So we should without chimney-sweepers and scavengers."</p> + +<p>"Graham, my dear fellow, judge not that you be not judged. I am older +than you, and have seen more of these men. Believe me that as you +grow older and also see more of them, your opinion will be more +lenient,—and more just. Do not be angry with me for taking this +liberty with you."</p> + +<p>"My dear judge, if you knew how I value it;—how I should value any +mark of such kindness that you can show me! However I have decided +that I will know something more of these gentlemen at once. If I have +your approbation I will let Mr. Furnival know that I will undertake +the case."</p> + +<p>The judge signified his approbation, and thus the first of those two +matters was soon settled between them.</p> + +<p>"And now for the pleasure," said the judge.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about pleasure," said Graham, fidgeting in his +chair, rather uneasily. "I'm afraid there is not much pleasure for +either of us, or for anybody else, in what I'm going to say."</p> + +<p>"Then there is so much more reason for having it said quickly. +Unpleasant things should always be got over without delay."</p> + +<p>"Nothing on earth can exceed Lady Staveley's kindness to me, and +yours, and that of the whole family since my unfortunate accident."</p> + +<p>"Don't think of it. It has been nothing. We like you, but we should +have done as much as that even if we had not."</p> + +<p>"And now I'm going to tell you that I have fallen in love with your +daughter Madeline." As the judge wished to have the tale told +quickly, I think he had reason to be satisfied with the very succinct +terms used by Felix Graham.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said the judge.</p> + +<p>"And that was the reason why I wished to go away at the earliest +possible time—and still wish it."</p> + +<p>"You are right there, Mr. Graham. I must say you are right there. +Under all the circumstances of the case I think you were right to +wish to leave us."</p> + +<p>"And therefore I shall go the first thing to-morrow morning"—in +saying which last words poor Felix could not refrain from showing a +certain unevenness of temper, and some disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Gently, gently, Mr. Graham. Let us have a few more words before we +accede to the necessity of anything so sudden. Have you spoken to +Madeline on this subject?"</p> + +<p>"Not a word."</p> + +<p>"And I may presume that you do not intend to do so."</p> + +<p>For a moment or so Felix Graham sat without speaking, and then, +getting up from his chair, he walked twice the length of the room. +"Upon my word, judge, I will not answer for myself if I remain here," +he said at last.</p> + +<p>A softer-hearted man than Judge Staveley, or one who could make +himself more happy in making others happy, never sat on the English +bench. Was not this a gallant young fellow before him,—gallant and +clever, of good honest principles, and a true manly heart? Was he not +a gentleman by birth, education, and tastes? What more should a man +want for a son-in-law? And then his daughter had had the wit to love +this man so endowed. It was almost on his tongue to tell Graham that +he might go and seek the girl and plead his own cause to her.</p> + +<p>But bread is bread, and butcher's bills are bills! The man and the +father, and the successful possessor of some thousands a year, was +too strong at last for the soft-hearted philanthropist. Therefore, +having collected his thoughts, he thus expressed himself upon the +<span class="nowrap">occasion:—</span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Graham, I think you have behaved very well in this matter, and +it is exactly what I should have expected from you." The judge at the +time knew nothing about Mary Snow. "As regards yourself personally I +should be proud to own you as my son-in-law, but I am of course bound +to regard the welfare of my daughter. Your means I fear are but +small."</p> + +<p>"Very small indeed," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"And though you have all those gifts which should bring you on in +your profession, you have learned to entertain ideas, which hitherto +have barred you from success. Now I tell you what you shall do. +Remain here two or three days longer, till you are fit to travel, and +abstain from saying anything to my daughter. Come to me again in +three months, if you still hold the same mind, and I will pledge +myself to tell you then whether or no you have my leave to address my +child as a suitor."</p> + +<p>Felix Graham silently took the judge's hand, feeling that a strong +hope had been given to him, and so the interview was ended.</p> + + +<p><a name="c53" id="c53"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LIII.</h4> +<h3>LADY MASON RETURNS HOME.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Lady Mason remained at The Cleeve for something more than a week +after that day on which she made her confession, during which time +she was fully committed to take her trial at the next assizes at +Alston on an indictment for perjury. This was done in a manner that +astonished even herself by the absence of all publicity or outward +scandal. The matter was arranged between Mr. Matthew Round and Mr. +Solomon Aram, and was so arranged in accordance with Mr. Furnival's +wishes. Mr. Furnival wrote to say that at such a time he would call +at The Cleeve with a post-chaise. This he did, and took Lady Mason +with him before two magistrates for the county who were sitting at +Doddinghurst, a village five miles distant from Sir Peregrine's +house. Here by agreement they were met by Lucius Mason who was to act +as one of the bailsmen for his mother's appearance at the trial. Sir +Peregrine was the other, but it was brought about by amicable +management between the lawyers that his appearance before the +magistrates was not required. There were also there the two +attorneys, Bridget Bolster the witness, one Torrington from London +who brought with him the absolute deed executed on that 14th of July +with reference to the then dissolved partnership of Mason and +Martock; and there was Mr. Samuel Dockwrath. I must not forget to say +that there was also a reporter for the press, provided by the special +care of the latter-named gentleman.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill53" id="ill53"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill53.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill53-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lady Mason going before the Magistrates." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lady Mason going before the Magistrates.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill53.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>The arrival in the village of four different vehicles, and the sight +of such gentlemen as Mr. Furnival, Mr. Round, and Mr. Aram, of course +aroused some excitement there; but this feeling was kept down as much +as possible, and Lady Mason was very quickly allowed to return to the +carriage. Mr. Dockwrath made one or two attempts to get up a scene, +and to rouse a feeling of public anger against the lady who was to be +tried; but the magistrates put him down. They also seemed to be fully +impressed with a sense of Lady Mason's innocence in the teeth of the +evidence which was given against her. This was the general feeling on +the minds of all people,—except of those who knew most about her. +There was an idea that affairs had so been managed by Mr. Joseph +Mason and Mr. Dockwrath that another trial was necessary, but that +the unfortunate victim of Mr. Mason's cupidity and Mr. Dockwrath's +malice would be washed white as snow when the day of that trial came. +The chief performers on the present occasion were Round and Aram, and +a stranger to such proceedings would have said that they were acting +in concert. Mr. Round pressed for the indictment, and brought forward +in a very short way the evidence of Bolster and Torrington. Mr. Aram +said that his client was advised to reserve her defence, and was +prepared with bail to any amount. Mr. Round advised the magistrates +that reasonable bail should be taken, and then the matter was +settled. Mr. Furnival sat on a chair close to the elder of those two +gentlemen, and whispered a word to him now and then. Lady Mason was +provided with an arm-chair close to Mr. Furnival's right hand, and +close to her right hand stood her son. Her face was covered by a deep +veil, and she was not called upon during the whole proceeding to +utter one audible word. A single question was put to her by the +presiding magistrate before the committal was signed, and it was +understood that some answer was made to it; but this answer reached +the ears of those in the room by means of Mr. Furnival's voice.</p> + +<p>It was observed by most of those there that during the whole of the +sitting Lady Mason held her son's hand; but it was observed also that +though Lucius permitted this he did not seem to return the pressure. +He stood there during the entire proceedings without motion or +speech, looking very stern. He signed the bail-bond, but even that he +did without saying a word. Mr. Dockwrath demanded that Lady Mason +should be kept in custody till the bond should also have been signed +by Sir Peregrine; but upon this Mr. Round remarked that he believed +Mr. Joseph Mason had intrusted to him the conduct of the case, and +the elder magistrate desired Mr. Dockwrath to abstain from further +interference. "All right," said he to a person standing close to him. +"But I'll be too many for them yet, as you will see when she is +brought before a judge and jury." And then Lady Mason stood committed +to take her trial at the next Alston assizes.</p> + +<p>When Lucius had come forward to hand her from the post-chaise in +which she arrived Lady Mason had kissed him, but this was all the +intercourse that then passed between the mother and son. Mr. +Furnival, however, informed him that his mother would return to Orley +Farm on the next day but one.</p> + +<p>"She thinks it better that she should be at home from this time to +the day of the trial," said Mr. Furnival; "and on the whole Sir +Peregrine is inclined to agree with her."</p> + +<p>"I have thought so all through," said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"But you are to understand that there is no disagreement between your +mother and the family at The Cleeve. The idea of the marriage has, as +I think very properly, been laid aside."</p> + +<p>"Of course it was proper that it should be laid aside."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I must beg you to understand that there has been no +quarrel. Indeed you will, I have no doubt, perceive that, as Mrs. +Orme has assured me that she will see your mother constantly till the +time comes."</p> + +<p>"She is very kind," said Lucius. But it was evident from the tone of +his voice that he would have preferred that all the Ormes should have +remained away. In his mind this time of suffering to his mother and +to him was a period of trial and probation,—a period, if not of +actual disgrace, yet of disgrace before the world; and he thought +that it would have best become his mother to have abstained from all +friendship out of her own family, and even from all expressed +sympathy, till she had vindicated her own purity and innocence. And +as he thought of this he declared to himself that he would have +sacrificed everything to her comfort and assistance if she would only +have permitted it. He would have loved her, and been tender to her, +receiving on his own shoulders all those blows which now fell so +hardly upon hers. Every word should have been a word of kindness; +every look should have been soft and full of affection. He would have +treated her not only with all the love which a son could show to a +mother, but with all the respect and sympathy which a gentleman could +feel for a lady in distress. But then, in order that such a state of +things as this should have existed, it would have been necessary that +she should have trusted him. She should have leaned upon him, +and,—though he did not exactly say so in talking over the matter +with himself, still he thought it,—on him and on him only. But she +had declined to lean upon him at all. She had gone away to +strangers,—she, who should hardly have spoken to a stranger during +these sad months! She would not have his care; and under those +circumstances he could only stand aloof, hold up his head, and look +sternly. As for her innocence, that was a matter of course. He knew +that she was innocent. He wanted no one to tell him that his own +mother was not a thief, a forger, a castaway among the world's worst +wretches. He thanked no one for such an assurance. Every honest man +must sympathise with a woman so injured. It would be a necessity of +his manhood and of his honesty! But he would have valued most a +sympathy which would have abstained from all expression till after +that trial should be over. It should have been for him to act and for +him to speak during this terrible period. But his mother who was a +free agent had willed it otherwise.</p> + +<p>And there had been one other scene. Mr. Furnival had introduced Lady +Mason to Mr. Solomon Aram, having explained to her that it would be +indispensable that Mr. Aram should see her, probably once or twice +before the trial came on.</p> + +<p>"But cannot it be done through you?" said Lady Mason. "Though of +course I should not expect that you can so sacrifice your valuable +time."</p> + +<p>"Pray believe me that that is not the consideration," said Mr. +Furnival. "We have engaged the services of Mr. Aram because he is +supposed to understand difficulties of this sort better than any +other man in the profession, and his chance of rescuing you from this +trouble will be much better if you can bring yourself to have +confidence in him—full confidence." And Mr. Furnival looked into her +face as he spoke with an expression of countenance that was very +eloquent. "You must not suppose that I shall not do all in my power. +In my proper capacity I shall be acting for you with all the energy +that I can use; but the case has now assumed an aspect which requires +that it should be in an attorney's hands." And then Mr. Furnival +introduced her to Mr. Solomon Aram.</p> + +<p>Mr. Solomon Aram was not, in outward appearance, such a man as Lady +Mason, Sir Peregrine Orme, or others quite ignorant in such matters +would have expected. He was not a dirty old Jew with a hooked nose +and an imperfect pronunciation of English consonants. Mr. +Chaffanbrass, the barrister, bore more resemblance to a Jew of that +ancient type. Mr. Solomon Aram was a good-looking man about forty, +perhaps rather over-dressed, but bearing about him no other sign of +vulgarity. Nor at first sight would it probably have been discerned +that he was of the Hebrew persuasion. He had black hair and a +well-formed face; but his eyes were closer than is common with most +of us, and his nose seemed to be somewhat swollen about the bridge. +When one knew that he was a Jew one saw that he was a Jew; but in the +absence of such previous knowledge he might have been taken for as +good a Christian as any other attorney.</p> + +<p>Mr. Aram raised his hat and bowed as Mr. Furnival performed the +ceremony of introduction. This was done while she was still seated in +the carriage, and as Lucius was waiting at the door to hand her down +into the house where the magistrates were sitting. "I am delighted to +have the honour of making your acquaintance," said Mr. Aram.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason essayed to mutter some word; but no word was audible, nor +was any necessary. "I have no doubt," continued the attorney, "that +we shall pull through this little difficulty without any ultimate +damage whatsoever. In the mean time it is of course disagreeable to a +lady of your distinction." And then he made another bow. "We are +peculiarly happy in having such a tower of strength as Mr. Furnival," +and then he bowed to the barrister.</p> + +<p>"And my old friend Mr. Chaffanbrass is another tower of strength. Eh, +Mr. Furnival?" And so the introduction was over.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason had quite understood Mr. Furnival;—had understood both +his words and his face, when he told her how indispensable it was +that she should have full confidence in this attorney. He had meant +that she should tell him all. She must bring herself to confess +everything to this absolute stranger. And then—for the first +time—she felt sure that Mr. Furnival had guessed her secret. He also +knew it, but it would not suit him that any one should know that he +knew it! Alas, alas! would it not be better that all the world should +know it and that there might be an end? Had not her doom been told to +her? Even if the paraphernalia of justice,—the judge, and the jury, +and the lawyers, could be induced to declare her innocent before all +men, must she not confess her guilt to him,—to that one,—for whose +verdict alone she cared? If he knew her to be guilty what matter who +might think her innocent? And she had been told that all must be +declared to him. That property was his,—but his only through her +guilt; and that property must be restored to its owner! So much Sir +Peregrine Orme had declared to be indispensable,—Sir Peregrine Orme, +who in other matters concerning this case was now dark enough in his +judgment. On that point, however, there need be no darkness. Though +the heaven should fall on her devoted head, that tardy justice must +be done!</p> + +<p>When this piece of business had been completed at Doddinghurst, Lady +Mason returned to The Cleeve, whither Mr. Furnival accompanied her. +He had offered his seat in the post-chaise to Lucius, but the young +man had declared that he was unwilling to go to The Cleeve, and +consequently there was no opportunity for conversation between Lady +Mason and her son. On her arrival she went at once to her room, and +there she continued to live as she had done for the last few days +till the morning of her departure came. To Mrs. Orme she told all +that had occurred, as Mr. Furnival did also to Sir Peregrine. On that +occasion Sir Peregrine said very little to the barrister, merely +bowing his head courteously as each different point was explained, in +intimation of his having heard and understood what was said to him. +Mr. Furnival could not but see that his manner was entirely altered. +There was no enthusiasm now, no violence of invective against that +wretch at Groby Park, no positive assurance that his guest's +innocence must come out at the trial bright as the day! He showed no +inclination to desert Lady Mason's cause, and indeed insisted on +hearing the particulars of all that had been done; but he said very +little, and those few words adverted to the terrible sadness of the +subject. He seemed too to be older than he had been, and less firm in +his gait. That terrible sadness had already told greatly upon him. +Those about him had observed that he had not once crossed the +threshold of his hall door since the morning on which Lady Mason had +taken to her own room.</p> + +<p>"He has altered his mind," said the lawyer to himself as he was +driven back to the Hamworth station. "He also now believes her to be +guilty." As to his own belief, Mr. Furnival held no argument within +his own breast, but we may say that he was no longer perplexed by +much doubt upon the matter.</p> + +<p>And then the morning came for Lady Mason's departure. Sir Peregrine +had not seen her since she had left him in the library after her +confession, although, as may be remembered, he had undertaken to do +so. But he had not then known how Mrs. Orme might act when she heard +the story. As matters had turned out Mrs. Orme had taken upon herself +the care of their guest, and all intercourse between Lady Mason and +Sir Peregrine had passed through his daughter-in-law. But now, on +this morning, he declared that he would go to her up stairs in Mrs. +Orme's room, and himself hand her down through the hall into the +carriage. Against this Lady Mason had expostulated, but in vain.</p> + +<p>"It will be better so, dear," Mrs. Orme had said. "It will teach the +servants and people to think that he still respects and esteems you."</p> + +<p>"But he does not!" said she, speaking almost sharply. "How would it +be possible? Ah, me—respect and esteem are gone from me for ever!"</p> + +<p>"No, not for ever," replied Mrs. Orme. "You have much to bear, but no +evil lasts for ever."</p> + +<p>"Will not sin last for ever;—sin such as mine?"</p> + +<p>"Not if you repent;—repent and make such restitution as is possible. +Lady Mason, say that you have repented. Tell me that you have asked +Him to pardon you!" And then, as had been so often the case during +these last days, Lady Mason sat silent, with hard, fixed eyes, with +her hands clasped, and her lips compressed. Never as yet had Mrs. +Orme induced her to say that she had asked for pardon at the cost of +telling her son that the property which he called his own had been +procured for him by his mother's fraud. That punishment, and that +only, was too heavy for her neck to bear. Her acquittal in the law +court would be as nothing to her if it must be followed by an avowal +of her guilt to her own son!</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine did come up stairs and handed her down through the hall +as he had proposed. When he came into the room she did not look at +him, but stood leaning against the table, with her eyes fixed upon +the ground.</p> + +<p>"I hope you find yourself better," he said, as he put out his hand to +her. She did not even attempt to make a reply, but allowed him just +to touch her fingers.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had better not come down," said Mrs. Orme. "It will be +easier to say good-bye here."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Lady Mason, and her voice sounded in Sir Peregrine's +ears like a voice from the dead.</p> + +<p>"God bless you and preserve you," said Mrs. Orme, "and restore you to +your son. God will bless you if you will ask Him. No; you shall not +go without a kiss." And she put out her arms that Lady Mason might +come to her.</p> + +<p>The poor broken wretch stood for a moment as though trying to +determine what she would do; and then, almost with a shriek, she +threw herself on to the bosom of the other woman, and burst into a +flood of tears. She had intended to abstain from that embrace; she +had resolved that she would do so, declaring to herself that she was +not fit to be held against that pure heart; but the tenderness of the +offer had overcome her; and now she pressed her friend convulsively +in her arms, as though there might yet be comfort for her as long as +she could remain close to one who was so good to her.</p> + +<p>"I shall come and see you very often," said Mrs. Orme,—"almost +daily."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," exclaimed the other, hardly knowing the meaning of her +own words.</p> + +<p>"But I shall. My father is waiting now, dear, and you had better go."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had turned to the window, where he stood shading his +eyes with his hand. When he heard his daughter-in-law's last words he +again came forward, and offered Lady Mason his arm. "Edith is right," +he said. "You had better go now. When you are at home you will be +more composed." And then he led her forth, and down the stairs, and +across the hall, and with infinite courtesy put her into the +carriage. It was a moment dreadful to Lady Mason; but to Sir +Peregrine, also, it was not pleasant. The servants were standing +round, officiously offering their aid,—those very servants who had +been told about ten days since that this lady was to become their +master's wife and their mistress. They had been told so with no +injunction as to secrecy, and the tidings had gone quickly through +the whole country. Now it was known that the match was broken off, +that the lady had been living up stairs secluded for the last week, +and that she was to leave the house this morning, having been +committed during the last day or two to stand her trial at the +assizes for some terrible offence! He succeeded in his task. He +handed her into the carriage, and then walked back through his own +servants to the library without betraying to them the depth of his +sorrow; but he knew that the last task had been too heavy for him. +When it was done he shut himself up and sat there for hours without +moving. He also declared to himself that the world was too hard for +him, and that it would be well for him that he should die. Never till +now had he come into close contact with crime, and now the criminal +was one whom as a woman he had learned to love, and whom he had +proposed to the world as his wife! The criminal was one who had +declared her crime in order to protect him, and whom therefore he was +still bound in honour to protect!</p> + +<p>When Lady Mason arrived at Orley Farm her son was waiting at the door +to receive her. It should have been said that during the last two +days,—that is ever since the committal,—Mrs. Orme had urged upon +her very strongly that it would be well for her to tell everything to +her son. "What! now, at once?" the poor woman had said. "Yes, dear, +at once," Mrs. Orme had answered. "He will forgive you, for I know he +is good. He will forgive you, and then the worst of your sorrow will +be over." But towards doing this Lady Mason had made no progress even +in her mind. In the violence of her own resolution she had brought +herself to tell her guilt to Sir Peregrine. That effort had nearly +destroyed her, and now she knew that she could not frame the words +which should declare the truth to Lucius. What; tell him the tale; +whereas her whole life had been spent in an effort to conceal it from +him? No. She knew that she could not do it. But the idea of doing so +made her tremble at the prospect of meeting him.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad you have come home, mother," said Lucius, as he +received her. "Believe me that for the present this will be the best +place for both of us," and then he led her into the house.</p> + +<p>"Dear Lucius, it would always be best for me to be with you, if it +were possible."</p> + +<p>He did not accuse her of hypocrisy in saying this; but he could not +but think that had she really thought and felt as she now spoke +nothing need have prevented her remaining with him. Had not his house +ever been open to her? Had he not been willing to make her defence +the first object of his life? Had he not longed to prove himself a +good son? But she had gone from him directly that troubles came upon +her, and now she said that she would fain be with him always—if it +were possible! Where had been the impediment? In what way had it been +not possible? He thought of this with bitterness as he followed her +into the house, but he said not a word of it. He had resolved that he +would be a pattern son, and even now he would not rebuke her.</p> + +<p>She had lived in this house for some four-and-twenty years, but it +seemed to her in no way like her home. Was it not the property of her +enemy, Joseph Mason? and did she not know that it must go back into +that enemy's hands? How then could it be to her like a home? The room +in which her bed was laid was that very room in which her sin had +been committed. There in the silent hours of the night, while the old +man lay near his death in the adjoining chamber, had she with +infinite care and much slow preparation done that deed, to undo +which, were it possible, she would now give away her existence,—ay, +her very body and soul. And yet for years she had slept in that room, +if not happily at least tranquilly. It was matter of wonder to her +now, as she looked back at her past life, that her guilt had sat so +lightly on her shoulders. The black unwelcome guest, the spectre of +coming evil, had ever been present to her; but she had seen it +indistinctly, and now and then the power had been hers to close her +eyes. Never again could she close them. Nearer to her, and still +nearer, the spectre came; and now it sat upon her pillow, and put its +claw upon her plate; it pressed upon her bosom with its fiendish +strength, telling her that all was over for her in this world:—ay, +and telling her worse even than that. Her return to her old home +brought with it but little comfort.</p> + +<p>And yet she was forced to make an effort at seeming glad that she had +come there,—a terrible effort! He, her son, was not gay or disposed +to receive from her a show of happiness; but he did think that she +should compose herself and be tranquil, and that she should resume +the ordinary duties of her life in her ordinarily quiet way. In all +this she was obliged to conform herself to his wishes,—or to attempt +so to conform herself, though her heart should break in the struggle. +If he did but know it all, then he would suffer her to be +quiet,—suffer her to lie motionless in her misery! Once or twice she +almost said to herself that she would make the effort; but when she +thought of him and his suffering, of his pride, of the respect which +he claimed from all the world as the honest son of an honest mother, +of his stubborn will and stiff neck, which would not bend, but would +break beneath the blow. She had done all for him,—to raise him in +the world; and now she could not bring herself to undo the work that +had cost her so dearly!</p> + +<p>That evening she went through the ceremony of dinner with him, and he +was punctilious in waiting upon her as though bread and meat could +comfort her or wine could warm her heart. There was no warmth for her +in all the vintages of the south, no comfort though gods should bring +to her their banquets. She was heavy laden,—laden to the breaking of +her back, and did not know where to lay her burden down.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said to her that night, lifting his head from the books +over which he had been poring, "There must be a few words between us +about this affair. They might as well be spoken now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lucius; of course—if you desire it."</p> + +<p>"There can be no doubt now that this trial will take place."</p> + +<p>"No doubt;" she said. "There can be no doubt."</p> + +<p>"Is it your wish that I should take any part in it?"</p> + +<p>She remained silent, for some moments before she answered him, +thinking,—striving to think, how best she might do him pleasure. +"What part?" she said at last.</p> + +<p>"A man's part, and a son's part. Shall I see these lawyers and learn +from them what they are at? Have I your leave to tell them that you +want no subterfuge, no legal quibbles,—that you stand firmly on your +own clear innocence, and that you defy your enemies to sully it? +Mother, those who have sent you to such men as that cunning attorney +have sent you wrong,—have counselled you wrong."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be changed now, Lucius."</p> + +<p>"It can be changed, if you will tell me to change it."</p> + +<p>And then again she paused. Ah, think of her anguish as she sought for +words to answer him! "No, Lucius," she said, "it cannot be changed +now."</p> + +<p>"So be it, mother; I will not ask again," and then he moodily +returned to his books, while she returned to her thoughts. Ah, think +of her misery!</p> + + +<p><a name="c54" id="c54"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LIV.</h4> +<h3>TELLING ALL THAT HAPPENED<br />BENEATH THE LAMP-POST.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When Felix Graham left Noningsby and made his way up to London, he +came at least to one resolution which he intended to be an abiding +one. That idea of a marriage with a moulded wife should at any rate +be abandoned. Whether it might be his great destiny to be the husband +of Madeline Staveley, or whether he might fail in achieving this +purpose, he declared to himself that it would be impossible that he +should ever now become the husband of Mary Snow. And the ease with +which his conscience settled itself on this matter as soon as he had +received from the judge that gleam of hope astonished even himself. +He immediately declared to himself that he could not marry Mary Snow +without perjury! How could he stand with her before the altar and +swear that he would love her, seeing that he did not love her at +all,—seeing that he altogether loved some one else? He acknowledged +that he had made an ass of himself in this affair of Mary Snow. This +moulding of a wife had failed with him, he said, as it always must +fail with every man. But he would not carry his folly further. He +would go to Mary Snow, tell her the truth, and then bear whatever +injury her angry father might be able to inflict on him. +Independently of that angry father he would of course do for Mary +Snow all that his circumstances would admit.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the gentleman of a poetic turn of mind whom Mary had +consented to meet beneath the lamp-post might assist him in his +views; but whether this might be so or not, he would not throw that +meeting ungenerously in her teeth. He would not have allowed that +offence to turn him from his proposed marriage had there been nothing +else to turn him, and therefore he would not plead that offence as +the excuse for his broken troth. That the breaking of that troth +would not deeply wound poor Mary's heart—so much he did permit +himself to believe on the evidence of that lamp-post.</p> + +<p>He had written to Mrs. Thomas telling her when he would be at +Peckham, but in his letter he had not said a word as to those +terrible tidings which she had communicated to him. He had written +also to Mary, assuring her that he accused her of no injury against +him, and almost promising her forgiveness; but this letter Mary had +not shown to Mrs. Thomas. In these days Mary's anger against Mrs. +Thomas was very strong. That Mrs. Thomas should have used all her +vigilance to detect such goings on as those of the lamp-post was only +natural. What woman in Mrs. Thomas's position,—or in any other +position,—would not have done so? Mary Snow knew that had she +herself been the duenna she would have left no corner of a box +unturned but she would have found those letters. And having found +them she would have used her power over the poor girl. She knew that. +But she would not have betrayed her to the man. Truth between woman +and woman should have prevented that. Were not the stockings which +she had darned for Mrs. Thomas legion in number? Had she not +consented to eat the veriest scraps of food in order that those three +brats might be fed into sleekness to satisfy their mother's eyes? Had +she not reported well of Mrs. Thomas to her lord, though that house +of Peckham was nauseous to her? Had she ever told to Mr. Graham any +one of those little tricks which were carried on to allure him into a +belief that things at Peckham were prosperous? Had she ever exposed +the borrowing of those teacups when he came, and the fact that those +knobs of white sugar were kept expressly on his behoof? No; she would +have scorned to betray any woman; and that woman whom she had not +betrayed should have shown the same feeling towards her. Therefore +there was enmity at Peckham, and the stockings of those infants lay +unmended in the basket.</p> + +<p>"Mary, I have done it all for the best," said Mrs. Thomas, driven to +defend herself by the obdurate silence of her pupil.</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Thomas, you didn't. You did it for the worst," said Mary. +And then there was again silence between them.</p> + +<p>It was on the morning following this that Felix Graham was driven to +the door in a cab. He still carried his arm in a sling, and was +obliged to be somewhat slow in his movements, but otherwise he was +again well. His accident however was so far a godsend to both the +women at Peckham that it gave them a subject on which they were +called upon to speak, before that other subject was introduced. Mary +was very tender in her inquiries,—but tender in a bashful retiring +way. To look at her one would have said that she was afraid to touch +the wounded man lest he should be again broken.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm all right," said he, trying to assume a look of good-humour. +"I sha'n't go hunting again in a hurry; you may be sure of that."</p> + +<p>"We have all great reason to be thankful that Providence interposed +to save you," said Mrs. Thomas, in her most serious tone. Had +Providence interposed to break Mrs. Thomas's collar-bone, or at least +to do her some serious outward injury, what a comfort it would be, +thought Mary Snow.</p> + +<p>"Have you seen your father lately?" asked Graham.</p> + +<p>"Not since I wrote to you about the money that he—borrowed," said +Mary.</p> + +<p>"I told her that she should not have given it to him," said Mrs. +Thomas.</p> + +<p>"She was quite right," said Graham. "Who could refuse assistance to a +father in distress?" Whereupon Mary put her handkerchief up to her +eyes and began to cry.</p> + +<p>"That's true of course," said Mrs. Thomas; "but it would never do +that he should be a drain in that way. He should feel that if he had +any feeling."</p> + +<p>"So he has," said Mary. "And you are driven close enough yourself +sometimes, Mrs. Thomas. There's days when you'd like to borrow +nineteen and sixpence if anybody would lend it you."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mrs. Thomas, crossing her hands over each other in +her lap and assuming a look of resignation; "I suppose all this will +be changed now. I have endeavoured to do my duty, and very hard it +has been."</p> + +<p>Felix felt that the sooner he rushed into the middle of the subject +which brought him there, the better it would be for all parties. That +the two ladies were not very happy together was evident, and then he +made a little comparison between Madeline and Mary. Was it really the +case that for the last three years he had contemplated making that +poor child his wife? Would it not be better for him to tie a +millstone round his neck and cast himself into the sea? That was now +his thought respecting Mary Snow.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Thomas," he said, "I should like to speak to Mary alone for a +few minutes if you could allow it."</p> + +<p>"Oh certainly; by all means. It will be quite proper." And gathering +up a bundle of the unfortunate stockings she took herself out of the +room.</p> + +<p>Mary, as soon as Graham had spoken, became almost pale, and sat +perfectly still with her eyes fixed on her betrothed husband. While +Mrs. Thomas was there she was prepared for war and her spirit was hot +within her, but all that heat fled in a moment when she found herself +alone with the man to whom it belonged to speak her doom. He had +almost said that he would forgive her, but yet she had a feeling that +that had been done which could not altogether be forgiven. If he +asked her whether she loved the hero of the lamp-post what would she +say? Had he asked her whether she loved him, Felix Graham, she would +have sworn that she did, and have thought that she was swearing +truly; but in answer to that other question if it were asked, she +felt that her answer must be false. She had no idea of giving up +Felix of her own accord, if he were still willing to take her. She +did not even wish that he would not take her. It had been the lesson +of her life that she was to be his wife, and, by becoming so, provide +for herself and for her wretched father. Nevertheless a dream of +something different from that had come across her young heart, and +the dream had been so pleasant! How painfully, but yet with what a +rapture, had her heart palpitated as she stood for those ten wicked +minutes beneath the lamp-post!</p> + +<p>"Mary," said Felix, as soon as they were alone,—and as he spoke he +came up to her and took her hand, "I trust that I may never be the +cause to you of any unhappiness;—that I may never be the means of +making you sad."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham, I am sure that you never will. It is I that have +been bad to you."</p> + +<p>"No, Mary, I do not think you have been bad at all. I should have +been sorry that that had happened, and that I should not have known +it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she was right to tell, only—" In truth Mary did not at +all understand what might be the nature of Graham's thoughts and +feelings on such a subject. She had a strong woman's idea that the +man whom she ought to love would not be gratified by her meeting +another man at a private assignation, especially when that other man +had written to her a love-letter; but she did not at all know how far +such a sin might be regarded as pardonable according to the rules of +the world recognised on such subjects. At first, when the letters +were discovered and the copies of them sent off to Noningsby, she +thought that all was over. According to her ideas, as existing at +that moment, the crime was conceived to be one admitting of no +pardon; and in the hours spent under that conviction all her +consolation came from the feeling that there was still one who +regarded her as an angel of light. But then she had received Graham's +letter, and as she began to understand that pardon was possible, that +other consolation waxed feeble and dim. If Felix Graham chose to take +her, of course she was there for him to take. It never for a moment +occurred to her that she could rebel against such taking, even though +she did shine as an angel of light to one dear pair of eyes.</p> + +<p>"I suppose she was right to tell you, only—"</p> + +<p>"Do not think, Mary, that I am going to scold you, or even that I am +angry with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I know you must be angry."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am not. If I pledge myself to tell you the truth in +everything, will you be equally frank with me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mary. But it was much easier for Felix to tell the truth +than for Mary to be frank. I believe that schoolmasters often tell +fibs to schoolboys, although it would be so easy for them to tell the +truth. But how difficult it is for the schoolboy always to tell the +truth to his master! Mary Snow was now as a schoolboy before her +tutor, and it may almost be said that the telling of the truth was to +her impossible. But of course she made the promise. Who ever said +that she would not tell the truth when so asked?</p> + +<p>"Have you ever thought, Mary, that you and I would not make each +other happy if we were married?"</p> + +<p>"No; I have never thought that," said Mary innocently. She meant to +say exactly that which she thought Graham would wish her to say, but +she was slow in following his lead.</p> + +<p>"It has never occurred to you that though we might love each other +very warmly as friends—and so I am sure we always shall—yet we +might not suit each other in all respects as man and wife?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to do the very best I can; that is, if—if—if you are not +too much offended with me now."</p> + +<p>"But, Mary, it should not be a question of doing the best you can. +Between man and wife there should be no need of such effort. It +should be a labour of love."</p> + +<p>"So it will;—and I'm sure I'll labour as hard as I can."</p> + +<p>Felix began to perceive that the line he had taken would not answer +the required purpose, and that he must be somewhat more abrupt with +her,—perhaps a little less delicate, in coming to the desired point. +"Mary," he said, "what is the name of that gentleman whom—whom you +met out of doors you know?"</p> + +<p>"Albert Fitzallen," said Mary, hesitating very much as she pronounced +the name, but nevertheless rather proud of the sound.</p> + +<p>"And you are—fond of him?" asked Graham.</p> + +<p>Poor girl! What was she to say? "No; I'm not very fond of him."</p> + +<p>"Are you not? Then why did you consent to that secret meeting?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham—I didn't mean it; indeed I didn't. And I didn't tell +him to write to me, nor yet to come looking after me. Upon my word I +didn't. But then I thought when he sent me that letter that he didn't +know;—about you I mean; and so I thought I'd better tell him; and +that's why I went. Indeed that was the reason."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Thomas could have told him that."</p> + +<p>"But I don't like Mrs. Thomas, and I wouldn't for worlds that she +should have had anything to do with it. I think Mrs. Thomas has +behaved very bad to me; so I do. And you don't half know her;—that +you don't."</p> + +<p>"I will ask you one more question, Mary, and before answering it I +want to make you believe that my only object in asking it is to +ascertain how I may make you happy. When you did meet Mr.—this +<span class="nowrap">gentleman—"</span></p> + +<p>"Albert Fitzallen."</p> + +<p>"When you did meet Mr. Fitzallen, did you tell him nothing else +except that you were engaged to me? Did you say nothing to him as to +your feelings towards himself?"</p> + +<p>"I told him it was very wrong of him to write me that letter."</p> + +<p>"And what more did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham, I won't see him any more; indeed I won't. I give you +my most solemn promise. Indeed I won't. And I will never write a line +to him,—or look at him. And if he sends anything I'll send it to +you. Indeed I will. There was never anything of the kind before; upon +my word there wasn't. I did let him take my hand, but I didn't know +how to help it when I was there. And he kissed me—only once. There; +I've told it all now, as though you were looking at me. And I ain't a +bad girl, whatever she may say of me. Indeed I ain't." And then poor +Mary Snow burst out into an agony of tears.</p> + +<p>Felix began to perceive that he had been too hard upon her. He had +wished that the first overtures of a separation should come from her, +and in wishing this he had been unreasonable. He walked for a while +about the room, and then going up to her he stood close by her and +took her hand. "Mary," he said, "I'm sure you're not a bad girl."</p> + +<p>"No;" she said, "no, I ain't;" still sobbing convulsively. "I didn't +mean anything wrong, and I couldn't help it."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you did not, and nobody has said you did."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they have. She has said so. She said that I was a bad girl. She +told me so, up to my face."</p> + +<p>"She was very wrong if she said so."</p> + +<p>"She did then, and I couldn't bear it."</p> + +<p>"I have not said so, and I don't think so. Indeed in all this matter +I believe that I have been more to blame than you."</p> + +<p>"No;—I know I was wrong. I know I shouldn't have gone to see him."</p> + +<p>"I won't even say as much as that, Mary. What you should have +done;—only the task would have been too hard for any young girl—was +to have told me openly that you—liked this young gentleman."</p> + +<p>"But I don't want ever to see him again."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mary," he said. But now he had dropped her hand and taken +a chair opposite to her. He had begun to find that the task which he +had proposed to himself was not so easy even for him. "Look here, +Mary. I take it that you do like this young gentleman. Don't answer +me till I have finished what I am going to say. I suppose you do like +him,—and if so it would be very wicked in you to marry me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham—"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Mary. But there is nothing wicked in your liking +him." It may be presumed that Mr. Graham would hold such an opinion +as this, seeing that he had allowed himself the same latitude of +liking. "It was perhaps only natural that you should learn to do so. +You have been taught to regard me rather as a master than as a +lover."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham, I'm sure I've loved you. I have indeed. And I will. +I won't even think of <span class="nowrap">Al—"</span></p> + +<p>"But I want you to think of him,—that is if he be worth thinking +of."</p> + +<p>"He's a very good young man, and always lives with his mother."</p> + +<p>"It shall be my business to find out that. And now Mary, tell me +truly. If he be a good young man, and if he loves you well enough to +marry you, would you not be happier as his wife than you would as +mine?"</p> + +<p>There! The question that he wished to ask her had got itself asked at +last. But if the asking had been difficult, how much more difficult +must have been the answer! He had been thinking over all this for the +last fortnight, and had hardly known how to come to a resolution. Now +he put the matter before her without a moment's notice and expected +an instant decision. "Speak the truth, Mary;—what you think about +it;—without minding what anybody may say of you." But Mary could not +say anything, so she again burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Surely you know the state of your own heart, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she answered.</p> + +<p>"My only object is to secure your happiness;—the happiness of both +of us, that is."</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything you please," said Mary.</p> + +<p>"Well then, I'll tell you what I think. I fear that a marriage +between us would not make either of us contented with our lives. I'm +too old and too grave for you." Yet Mary Snow was not younger than +Madeline Staveley. "You have been told to love me; and you think that +you do love me because you wish to do what you think to be your duty. +But I believe that people can never really love each other merely +because they are told to do so. Of course I cannot say what sort of a +young man Mr. Fitzallen may be; but if I find that he is fit to take +care of you, and that he has means to support you,—with such little +help as I can give,—I shall be very happy to promote such an +arrangement."</p> + +<p>Everybody will of course say that Felix Graham was base in not +telling her that all this arose, not from her love affair with Albert +Fitzallen, but from his own love affair with Madeline Staveley. But I +am inclined to think that everybody will be wrong. Had he told her +openly that he did not care for her, but did care for some one else, +he would have left her no alternative. As it was, he did not mean +that she should have any alternative. But he probably consulted her +feelings best in allowing her to think that she had a choice. And +then, though he owed much to her, he owed nothing to her father; and +had he openly declared his intention of breaking off the match +because he had attached himself to some one else, he would have put +himself terribly into her father's power. He was willing to submit to +such pecuniary burden in the matter as his conscience told him that +he ought to bear; but Mr. Snow's ideas on the subject of recompense +might be extravagant; and therefore,—as regarded Snow the +father,—he thought that he might make some slight and delicate use +of the meeting under the lamp-post. In doing so he would be very +careful to guard Mary from her father's anger. Indeed Mary would be +surrendered, out of his own care, not to that of her father, but to +the fostering love of the gentleman in the medical line of life.</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything that you please," said Mary, upon whose mind and +heart all these changes had come with a suddenness which prevented +her from thinking,—much less speaking her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better mention it to Mrs. Thomas."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Graham, I'd rather not talk to her. I don't love her a bit."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will not press it on you if you do not wish it. And have I +your permission to speak to Mr. Fitzallen;—and if he approves to +speak to his mother?"</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything you think best, Mr. Graham," said poor Mary. She +was poor Mary; for though she had consented to meet a lover beneath +the lamp-post, she had not been without ambition, and had looked +forward to the glory of being wife to such a man as Felix Graham. She +did not however, for one moment, entertain any idea of resistance to +his will.</p> + +<p>And then Felix left her, having of course an interview with Mrs. +Thomas before he quitted the house. To her, however, he said nothing. +"When anything is settled, Mrs. Thomas, I will let you know." The +words were so lacking in confidence that Mrs. Thomas when she heard +them knew that the verdict had gone against her.</p> + +<p>Felix for many months had been accustomed to take leave of Mary Snow +with a kiss. But on this day he omitted to kiss her, and then Mary +knew that it was all over with her ambition. But love still remained +to her. "There is some one else who will be proud to kiss me," she +said to herself, as she stood alone in the room when he closed the +door behind him.</p> + + +<p><a name="c55" id="c55"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LV.</h4> +<h3>WHAT TOOK PLACE IN HARLEY STREET.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"Tom, I've come back again," said Mrs. Furnival, as soon as the +dining-room door was closed behind her back.</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad to see you; I am indeed," said he, getting up and +putting out his hand to her. "But I really never knew why you went +away."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you know. I'm sure you know why I went. +<span class="nowrap">But—"</span></p> + +<p>"I'll be shot if I did then."</p> + +<p>"I went away because I did not like Lady Mason going to your +chambers."</p> + +<p>"Psha!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know I was wrong, Tom. That is I was wrong—about that."</p> + +<p>"Of course you were, Kitty."</p> + +<p>"Well; don't I say I was? And I've come back again, and I beg your +pardon;—that is about the lady."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Then there's an end of it."</p> + +<p>"But Tom; you know I've been provoked. Haven't I now? How often have +you been home to dinner since you have been member of parliament for +that place?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be more at home now, Kitty."</p> + +<p>"Shall you indeed? Then I'll not say another word to vex you. What on +earth can I want, Tom, except just that you should sit at home with +me sometimes on evenings, as you used to do always in the old days? +And as for Martha <span class="nowrap">Biggs—"</span></p> + +<p>"Is she come back too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no. She's in Red Lion Square. And I'm sure, Tom, I never had +her here except when you wouldn't dine at home. I wonder whether you +know how lonely it is to sit down to dinner all by oneself!"</p> + +<p>"Why; I do it every other day of my life. And I never think of +sending for Martha Biggs; I promise you that."</p> + +<p>"She isn't very nice, I know," said Mrs. Furnival—"that is, for +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"I should say not," said Mr. Furnival. Then the reconciliation had +been effected, and Mrs. Furnival went up stairs to prepare for +dinner, knowing that her husband would be present, and that Martha +Biggs would not. And just as she was taking her accustomed place at +the head of the table, almost ashamed to look up lest she should +catch Spooner's eye who was standing behind his master, Rachel went +off in a cab to Orange Street, commissioned to pay what might be due +for the lodgings, to bring back her mistress's boxes, and to convey +the necessary tidings to Miss Biggs.</p> + +<p>"Well I never!" said Martha, as she listened to Rachel's story.</p> + +<p>"And they're quite loving I can assure you," said Rachel.</p> + +<p>"It'll never last," said Miss Biggs triumphantly—"never. +It's been done too sudden to last."</p> + +<p>"So I'll say good-night if you please, Miss Biggs," said Rachel, who +was in a hurry to get back to Harley Street.</p> + +<p>"I think she might have come here before she went there; especially +as it wasn't anything out of her way. She couldn't have gone shorter +than Bloomsbury Square, and Russell Square, and over Tottenham Court +Road."</p> + +<p>"Missus didn't think of that, I dare say."</p> + +<p>"She used to know the way about these parts well enough. But give her +my love, Rachel." Then Martha Biggs was again alone, and she sighed +deeply.</p> + +<p>It was well that Mrs. Furnival came back so quickly to her own house, +as it saved the scandal of any domestic quarrel before her daughter. +On the following day Sophia returned, and as harmony was at that time +reigning in Harley Street, there was no necessity that she should be +presumed to know anything of what had occurred. That she did +know,—know exactly what her mother had done, and why she had done +it, and how she had come back, leaving Martha Biggs dumfounded by her +return, is very probable, for Sophia Furnival was a clever girl, and +one who professed to understand the ins and outs of her own +family,—and perhaps of some other families. But she behaved very +prettily to her papa and mamma on the occasion, never dropping a word +which could lead either of them to suppose that she had interrogated +Rachel, been confidential with the housemaid, conversed on the +subject—even with Spooner, and made a morning call on Martha Biggs +herself.</p> + +<p>There arose not unnaturally some conversation between the mother and +daughter as to Lady Mason;—not as to Lady Mason's visits to +Lincoln's Inn and their impropriety as formerly presumed;—not at all +as to that; but in respect to her present lamentable position and +that engagement which had for a time existed between her and Sir +Peregrine Orme. On this latter subject Mrs. Furnival had of course +heard nothing during her interview with Mrs. Orme at Noningsby. At +that time Lady Mason had formed the sole subject of conversation; but +in explaining to Mrs. Furnival that there certainly could be no +unhallowed feeling between her husband and the lady, Mrs. Orme had +not thought it necessary to allude to Sir Peregrine's past +intentions. Mrs. Furnival, however, had heard the whole matter +discussed in the railway carriage, had since interrogated her +husband,—learning, however, not very much from him,—and now +inquired into all the details from her daughter.</p> + +<p>"And she and Sir Peregrine were really to be married?" Mrs. Furnival, +as she asked the question, thought with confusion of her own unjust +accusations against the poor woman. Under such circumstances as those +Lady Mason must of course have been innocent as touching Mr. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Sophia. "There is no doubt whatsoever that they were +engaged. Sir Peregrine told Lady Staveley so himself."</p> + +<p>"And now it's all broken off again?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; it is all broken off now. I believe the fact to be this. +Lord Alston, who lives near Noningsby, is a very old friend of Sir +Peregrine's. When he heard of it he went to The Cleeve—I know that +for certain;—and I think he talked Sir Peregrine out of it."</p> + +<p>"But, my conscience, Sophia—after he had made her the offer!"</p> + +<p>"I fancy that Mrs. Orme arranged it all. Whether Lord Alston saw her +or not I don't know. My belief is that Lady Mason behaved very well +all through, though they say very bitter things against her at +Noningsby."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!" said Mrs. Furnival, the feelings of whose heart were +quite changed as regarded Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"I never knew a woman so badly treated." Sophia had her own reasons +for wishing to make the best of Lady Mason's case. "And for myself I +do not see why Sir Peregrine should not have married her if he +pleased."</p> + +<p>"He is rather old, my dear."</p> + +<p>"People don't think so much about that now-a-days as they used. If he +liked it, and she too, who had a right to say anything? My idea is +that a man with any spirit would have turned Lord Alston out of the +house. What business had he to interfere?"</p> + +<p>"But about the trial, Sophia?"</p> + +<p>"That will go on. There's no doubt about that. But they all say that +it's the most unjust thing in the world, and that she must be proved +innocent. I heard the judge say so myself."</p> + +<p>"But why are they allowed to try her then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa will tell you that."</p> + +<p>"I never like to bother your papa about law business." Particularly +not, Mrs. Furnival, when he has a pretty woman for his client!</p> + +<p>"My wonder is that she should make herself so unhappy about it," +continued Sophia. "It seems that she is quite broken down."</p> + +<p>"But won't she have to go and sit in the court,—with all the people +staring at her?"</p> + +<p>"That won't kill her," said Sophia, who felt that she herself would +not perish under any such process. "If I was sure that I was in the +right, I think that I could hold up my head against all that. But +they say that she is crushed to the earth."</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!" said Mrs. Furnival. "I wish that I could do anything +for her." And in this way they talked the matter over very +comfortably.</p> + +<p>Two or three days after this Sophia Furnival was sitting alone in the +drawing-room in Harley Street, when Spooner answered a double knock +at the door, and Lucius Mason was shown up stairs. Mrs. Furnival had +gone to make her peace in Red Lion Square, and there may perhaps be +ground for supposing that Lucius had cause to expect that Miss +Furnival might be seen at this hour without interruption. Be that as +it may, she was found alone, and he was permitted to declare his +purpose unmolested by father, mother, or family friends.</p> + +<p>"You remember how we parted at Noningsby," said he, when their first +greetings were well over.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I remember it very well. I do not easily forget words such +as were spoken then."</p> + +<p>"You said that you would never turn away from me."</p> + +<p>"Nor will I;—that is with reference to the matter as to which we +were speaking."</p> + +<p>"Is our friendship then to be confined to one subject?"</p> + +<p>"By no means. Friendship cannot be so confined, Mr. Mason. Friendship +between true friends must extend to all the affairs of life. What I +meant to say was <span class="nowrap">this—</span> But I am +quite sure that you understand me +without any explanation."</p> + +<p>He did understand her. She meant to say that she had promised to him +her sympathy and friendship, but nothing more. But then he had asked +for nothing more. The matter of doubt within his own heart was this. +Should he or should he not ask for more; and if he resolved on +answering this question in the affirmative, should he ask for it now? +He had determined that morning that he would come to some fixed +purpose on this matter before he reached Harley Street. As he crossed +out of Oxford Street from the omnibus he had determined that the +present was no time for love-making;—walking up Regent Street, he +had told himself that if he had one faithful heart to bear him +company he could bear his troubles better;—as he made his way along +the north side of Cavendish Square he pictured to himself what would +be the wound to his pride if he were rejected;—and in passing the +ten or twelve houses which intervened in Harley Street between the +corner of the square and the abode of his mistress, he told himself +that the question must be answered by circumstances.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand you," he said. "And believe me in this—I would +not for worlds encroach on your kindness. I knew that when I pressed +your hand that night, I pressed the hand of a friend,—and nothing +more."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said Sophia. Sophia's wit was usually ready enough, but +at that moment she could not resolve with what words she might make +the most appropriate reply to her—friend. What she did say was +rather lame, but it was not dangerous.</p> + +<p>"Since that I have suffered a great deal," said Lucius. "Of course +you know that my mother has been staying at The Cleeve?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. I believe she left it only a day or two since."</p> + +<p>"And you heard perhaps of her—. I hardly know how to tell you, if +you have not heard it."</p> + +<p>"If you mean about Sir Peregrine, I have heard of that."</p> + +<p>"Of course you have. All the world has heard of it." And Lucius Mason +got up and walked about the room holding his hand to his brow. "All +the world are talking about it. Miss Furnival, you have never known +what it is to blush for a parent."</p> + +<p>Miss Furnival at the moment felt a sincere hope that Mr. Mason might +never hear of Mrs. Furnival's visit to the neighbourhood of Orange +Street and of the causes which led to it, and by no means thought it +necessary to ask for her friend's sympathy on that subject. "No," +said she, "I never have; nor need you do so for yours. Why should not +Lady Mason have married Sir Peregrine Orme, if they both thought such +a marriage fitting?"</p> + +<p>"What; at such a time as this; with these dreadful accusations +running in her ears? Surely this was no time for marrying! And what +has come of it? People now say that he has rejected her and sent her +away."</p> + +<p>"Oh no. They cannot say that."</p> + +<p>"But they do. It is reported that Sir Peregrine has sent her away +because he thinks her to be guilty. That I do not believe. No honest +man, no gentleman, could think her guilty. But is it not dreadful +that such things should be said?"</p> + +<p>"Will not the trial take place very shortly now? When that is once +over all these troubles will be at an end."</p> + +<p>"Miss Furnival, I sometimes think that my mother will hardly have +strength to sustain the trial. She is so depressed that I almost fear +her mind will give way; and the worst of it is that I am altogether +unable to comfort her."</p> + +<p>"Surely that at present should specially be your task."</p> + +<p>"I cannot do it. What should I say to her? I think that she is wrong +in what she is doing; thoroughly, absolutely wrong. She has got about +her a parcel of lawyers. I beg your pardon, Miss Furnival, but you +know I do not mean such as your father."</p> + +<p>"But has not he advised it?"</p> + +<p>"If so I cannot but think he is wrong. They are the very scum of the +gaols; men who live by rescuing felons from the punishment they +deserve. What can my mother require of such services as theirs? It is +they that frighten her and make her dread all manner of evils. Why +should a woman who knows herself to be good and just fear anything +that the law can do to her?"</p> + +<p>"I can easily understand that such a position as hers must be very +dreadful. You must not be hard upon her, Mr. Mason, because she is +not as strong as you might be."</p> + +<p>"Hard upon her! Ah, Miss Furnival, you do not know me. If she would +only accept my love I would wait upon her as a mother does upon her +infant. No labour would be too much for me; no care would be too +close. But her desire is that this affair should never be mentioned +between us. We are living now in the same house, and though I see +that this is killing her yet I may not speak of it." Then he got up +from his chair, and as he walked about the room he took his +handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could comfort you," said she. And in saying so she spoke +the truth. By nature she was not tender hearted, but now she did +sympathise with him. By nature, too, she was not given to any deep +affection, but she did feel some spark of love for Lucius Mason. "I +wish I could comfort you." And as she spoke she also got up from her +chair.</p> + +<p>"And you can," said he, suddenly stopping himself and coming close to +her. "You can comfort me,—in some degree. You and you only can do +so. I know this is no time for declarations of love. Were it not that +we are already so much to each other, I would not indulge myself at +such a moment with such a wish. But I have no one whom I can love; +and—it is very hard to bear." And then he stood, waiting for her +answer, as though he conceived that he had offered her his hand.</p> + +<p>But Miss Furnival well knew that she had received no offer. "If my +warmest sympathy can be of service to +<span class="nowrap">you—"</span></p> + +<p>"It is your love I want," he said, taking her hand as he spoke. "Your +love, so that I may look on you as my wife;—your acceptance of my +love, so that we may be all in all to each other. There is my hand. I +stand before you now as sad a man as there is in all London. But +there is my hand—will you take it and give me yours in pledge of +your love."</p> + +<p>I should be unjust to Lucius Mason were I to omit to say that he +played his part with a becoming air. Unhappiness and a melancholy +mood suited him perhaps better than the world's ordinary good-humour. +He was a man who looked his best when under a cloud, and shone the +brightest when everything about him was dark. And Sophia also was not +unequal to the occasion. There was, however, this difference between +them. Lucius was quite honest in all that he said and did upon the +occasion; whereas Miss Furnival was only half honest. Perhaps she was +not capable of a higher pitch of honesty than that.</p> + +<p>"There is my hand," said she; and they stood holding each other, palm +to palm.</p> + +<p>"And with it your heart?" said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"And with it my heart," answered Sophia. Nor as she spoke did she +hesitate for a moment, or become embarrassed, or lose her command of +feature. Had Augustus Staveley gone through the same ceremony at +Noningsby in the same way I am inclined to think that she would have +made the same answer. Had neither done so, she would not on that +account have been unhappy. What a blessed woman would Lady Staveley +have been had she known what was being done in Harley Street at this +moment!</p> + +<p>In some short rhapsody of love it may be presumed that Lucius +indulged himself when he found that the affair which he had in hand +had so far satisfactorily arranged itself. But he was in truth too +wretched at heart for any true enjoyment of the delights of a +favoured suitor. They were soon engaged again on that terrible +subject, seated side by side indeed and somewhat close, but the tone +of their voices and their very words were hardly different from what +they might have been had no troth been plighted between them. His +present plan was that Sophia should visit Orley Farm for a time, and +take that place of dear and bosom friend which a woman circumstanced +as was his mother must so urgently need. We, my readers, know well +who was now that loving friend, and we know also which was best +fitted for such a task, Sophia Furnival or Mrs. Orme. But we have +had, I trust, better means of reading the characters of those ladies +than had fallen to the lot of Lucius Mason, and should not be angry +with him because his eyes were dark.</p> + +<p>Sophia hesitated a moment before she answered this proposition,—not +as though she were slack in her love, or begrudged her services to +his mother; but it behoved her to look carefully at the circumstances +before she would pledge herself to such an arrangement as that. If +she went to Orley Farm on such a mission would it not be necessary to +tell her father and mother,—nay, to tell all the world that she was +engaged to Lucius Mason; and would it be wise to make such a +communication at the present moment? Lucius said a word to her of +going into court with his mother, and sitting with her, hand in hand, +while that ordeal was passing by. In the publicity of such sympathy +there was something that suited the bearings of Miss Furnival's mind, +The idea that Lady Mason was guilty had never entered her head, and +therefore, on this she thought there could be no disgrace in such a +proceeding. But nevertheless—might it not be prudent to wait till +that trial were over?</p> + +<p>"If you are my wife you must be her daughter; and how can you better +take a daughter's part?" pleaded Lucius.</p> + +<p>"No, no; and I would do it with my whole heart. But, Lucius, does she +know me well enough? It is of her that we must think. After all that +you have told me, can we think that she would wish me to be there?"</p> + +<p>It was his desire that his mother should learn to have such a wish, +and this he explained to her. He himself could do but little at home +because he could not yield his opinion on those matters of importance +as to which he and his mother differed so vitally; but if she had a +woman with her in the house,—such a woman as his own Sophia,—then +he thought her heart would be softened and part of her sorrow might +be assuaged.</p> + +<p>Sophia at last said that she would think about it. It would be +improper, she said, to pledge herself to anything rashly. It might be +that as her father was to defend Lady Mason, he might on that account +object to his daughter being in the court. Lucius declared that this +would be unreasonable,—unless indeed Mr. Furnival should object to +his daughter's engagement. And might he not do so? Sophia thought it +very probable that he might. It would make no difference in her, she +said. Her engagement would be equally binding,—as permanently +binding, let who would object to it. And as she made this +declaration, there was of course a little love scene. But, for the +present, it might be best that in this matter she should obey her +father. And then she pointed out how fatal it might be to avert her +father from the cause while the trial was still pending. Upon the +whole she acted her part very prudently, and when Lucius left her she +was pledged to nothing but that one simple fact of a marriage +engagement.</p> + + +<p><a name="c56" id="c56"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LVI.</h4> +<h3>HOW SIR PEREGRINE DID BUSINESS<br />WITH MR. ROUND.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>In the mean time Sir Peregrine was sitting at home trying to +determine in what way he should act under the present emergency, +actuated as he was on one side by friendship and on the other by +duty. For the first day or two—nay for the first week after the +confession had been made to him,—he had been so astounded, had been +so knocked to the earth, and had remained in such a state of +bewilderment, that it had been impossible for him to form for himself +any line of conduct. His only counsellor had been Mrs. Orme; and, +though he could not analyze the matter, he felt that her woman's +ideas of honour and honesty were in some way different from his ideas +as a man. To her the sorrows and utter misery of Lady Mason seemed of +greater weight than her guilt. At least such was the impression which +her words left. Mrs. Orme's chief anxiety in the matter still was +that Lady Mason should be acquitted;—as strongly so now as when they +both believed her to be as guiltless as themselves. But Sir Peregrine +could not look at it in this light. He did not say that he wished +that she might be found guilty;—nor did he wish it. But he did +announce his opinion to his daughter-in-law that the ends of justice +would so be best promoted, and that if the matter were driven to a +trial it would not be for the honour of the court that a false +verdict should be given. Nor would he believe that such a false +verdict could be obtained. An English judge and an English jury were +to him the Palladium of discerning truth. In an English court of law +such a matter could not remain dark;—nor ought it, let whatever +misery betide. It was strange how that old man should have lived so +near the world for seventy years, should have taken his place in +Parliament and on the bench, should have rubbed his shoulders so +constantly against those of his neighbours, and yet have retained so +strong a reliance on the purity of the world in general. Here and +there such a man may still be found, but the number is becoming very +few.</p> + +<p>As for the property, that must of necessity be abandoned. Lady Mason +had signified her agreement to this; and therefore he was so far +willing that she should be saved from further outward punishment, if +that were still possible. His plan was this; and to his thinking it +was the only plan that was feasible. Let the estate be at once given +up to the proper owner,—even now, before the day of trial should +come; and then let them trust, not to Joseph Mason, but to Joseph +Mason's advisers to abstain from prosecuting the offender. Even this +course he knew to be surrounded by a thousand difficulties; but it +might be possible. Of Mr. Round, old Mr. Round, he had heard a good +report. He was a kind man, and even in this very matter had behaved +in a way that had shamed his client. Might it not be possible that +Mr. Round would engage to drop the prosecution if the immediate +return of the property were secured? But to effect this must he not +tell Mr. Round of the woman's guilt? And could he manage it himself? +Must he not tell Mr. Furnival? And by so doing, would he not rob Lady +Mason of her sole remaining tower of strength?—for if Mr. Furnival +knew that she was guilty, Mr. Furnival must of course abandon her +cause. And then Sir Peregrine did not know how to turn himself, as he +thus argued the matter within his own bosom.</p> + +<p>And then too his own disgrace sat very heavy on him. Whether or no +the law might pronounce Lady Mason to have been guilty, all the world +would know her guilt. When that property should be abandoned, and her +wretched son turned out to earn his bread, it would be well +understood that she had been guilty. And this was the woman, this +midnight forger, whom he had taken to his bosom, and asked to be his +wife! He had asked her, and she had consented, and then he had +proclaimed the triumph of his love to all the world. When he stood +there holding her to his breast he had been proud of her affection. +When Lord Alston had come to him with his caution he had scorned his +old friend and almost driven him from his door. When his grandson had +spoken a word, not to him but to another, he had been full of wrath. +He had let it be known widely that he would feel no shame in showing +her to the world as Lady Orme. And now she was a forger, and a +perjurer, and a thief;—a thief who for long years had lived on the +proceeds of her dexterous theft. And yet was he not under a deep +obligation to her—under the very deepest? Had she not saved him from +a worse disgrace;—saved him at the cost of all that was left to +herself? Was he not still bound to stand by her? And did he not still +love her?</p> + +<p>Poor Sir Peregrine! May we not say that it would have been well for +him if the world and all its trouble could have now been ended so +that he might have done with it?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme was his only counsellor, and though she could not be +brought to agree with him in all his feelings, yet she was of +infinite comfort to him. Had she not shared with him this terrible +secret his mind would have given way beneath the burden. On the day +after Lady Mason's departure from The Cleeve, he sat for an hour in +the library considering what he would do, and then he sent for his +daughter-in-law. If it behoved him to take any step to stay the +trial, he must take it at once. The matter had been pressed on by +each side, and now the days might be counted up to that day on which +the judges would arrive in Alston. That trial would be very terrible +to him in every way. He had promised, during those pleasant hours of +his love and sympathy in which he had felt no doubt as to his +friend's acquittal, that he would stand by her when she was +arraigned. That was now impossible, and though he had not dared to +mention it to Lady Mason, he knew that she would not expect that he +should do so. But to Mrs. Orme he had spoken on the matter, and she +had declared her purpose of taking the place which it would not now +become him to fill! Sir Peregrine had started from his chair when she +had so spoken. What! his daughter! She, the purest of the pure, to +whom the very air of a court of law would be a contamination;—she, +whose whiteness had never been sullied by contact with the world's +dust; she set by the side of that terrible criminal, hand in hand +with her, present to all the world as her bosom friend! There had +been but few words between them on the matter; but Sir Peregrine had +felt strongly that that might not be permitted. Far better than that +it would be that he should humble his gray hairs and sit there to be +gazed at by the crowd. But on all accounts how much was it to be +desired that there should be no trial!</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Edith," he said, as with her soft step she came up to him. +"I find that the assizes will be here, in Alston, at the end of next +month."</p> + +<p>"So soon as that, father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; look here: the judges will come in on the 25th of March."</p> + +<p>"Ah me—this is very sudden. But, father, will it not be best for her +that it should be over?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme still thought, had always thought that the trial itself was +unavoidable. Indeed she had thought and she did think that it +afforded to Lady Mason the only possible means of escape. Her mind on +the subject, if it could have been analyzed, would probably have been +this. As to the property, that question must for the present stand in +abeyance. It is quite right that it should go to its detestable +owners,—that it should be made over to them at some day not very +distant. But for the present, the trial for that old, long-distant +crime was the subject for them to consider. Could it be wrong to wish +for an acquittal for the sinner,—an acquittal before this world's +bar, seeing that a true verdict had undoubtedly been given before +another bar? Mrs. Orme trusted that no jury would convict her friend. +Let Lady Mason go through that ordeal; and then, when the law had +declared her innocent, let restitution be made.</p> + +<p>"It will be very terrible to all if she be condemned," said Sir +Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Very terrible! But Mr. Furnival—"</p> + +<p>"Edith, if it comes to that, she will be condemned. Mr. Furnival is a +lawyer and will not say so; but from his countenance, when he speaks +of her, I know that he expects it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, do not say so."</p> + +<p>"But if it is so—. My love, what is the purport of these courts of +law if it be not to discover the truth, and make it plain to the +light of day?" Poor Sir Peregrine! His innocence in this respect was +perhaps beautiful, but it was very simple. Mr. Aram, could he have +been induced to speak out his mind plainly, would have expressed, +probably, a different opinion.</p> + +<p>"But she escaped before," said Mrs. Orme, who was clearly at present +on the same side with Mr. Aram.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she did;—by perjury, Edith. And now the penalty of that +further crime awaits her. There was an old poet who said that the +wicked man rarely escapes at last. I believe in my heart that he +spoke the truth."</p> + +<p>"Father, that old poet knew nothing of our faith."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine could not stop to explain, even if he knew how to do +so, that the old poet spoke of punishment in this world, whereas the +faith on which his daughter relied is efficacious for pardon beyond +the grave. It would be much, ay, in one sense everything, if Lady +Mason could be brought to repent of the sin she had committed; but no +such repentance would stay the bitterness of Joseph Mason or of +Samuel Dockwrath. If the property were at once restored, then +repentance might commence. If the property were at once restored, +then the trial might be stayed. It might be possible that Mr. Round +might so act. He felt all this, but he could not argue on it. "I +think, my dear," he said, "that I had better see Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>"But you will not tell him?" said Mrs. Orme, sharply.</p> + +<p>"No; I am not authorised to do that."</p> + +<p>"But he will entice it from you! He is a lawyer, and he will wind +anything out from a plain, chivalrous man of truth and honour."</p> + +<p>"My dear, Mr. Round I believe is a good man."</p> + +<p>"But if he asks you the question, what will you say?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell him to ask me no such question."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, be careful. For her sake be careful. How is it that you +know the truth;—or that I know it? She told it here because in that +way only could she save you from that marriage. Father, she has +sacrificed herself for—for us."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine when this was said to him got up from his chair and +walked away to the window. He was not angry with her that she so +spoke to him. Nay; he acknowledged inwardly the truth of her words, +and loved her for her constancy. But nevertheless they were very +bitter. How had it come to pass that he was thus indebted to so deep +a criminal? What had he done for her but good?</p> + +<p>"Do not go from me," she said, following him. "Do not think me +unkind."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," he answered, striving almost ineffectually to repress a +sob. "You are not unkind."</p> + +<p>For two days after that not a word was spoken between them on the +subject, and then he did go to Mr. Round. Not a word on the subject +was spoken between Sir Peregrine and Mrs. Orme; but she was twice at +Orley Farm during the time, and told Lady Mason of the steps which +her father-in-law was taking. "He won't betray me!" Lady Mason had +said. Mrs. Orme had answered this with what best assurance she should +give; but in her heart of hearts she feared that Sir Peregrine would +betray the secret.</p> + +<p>It was not a pleasant journey for Sir Peregrine. Indeed it may be +said that no journeys could any longer be pleasant for him. He was +old and worn and feeble; very much older and much more worn than he +had been at the period spoken of in the commencement of this story, +though but a few months had passed over his head since that time. For +him now it would have been preferable to remain in the arm-chair by +the fireside in his own library, receiving such comfort in his old +age as might come to him from the affection of his daughter-in-law +and grandson. But he thought that it behoved him to do this work; and +therefore, old and feeble as he was, he set himself to his task. He +reached the station in London, had himself driven to Bedford Row in a +cab, and soon found himself in the presence of Mr. Round.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill56" id="ill56"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill56.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill56-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Sir Peregrine at Mr. Round's office." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Sir Peregrine at Mr. Round's office.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill56.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>There was much ceremonial talk between them before Sir Peregrine +could bring himself to declare the purport which had brought him +there. Mr. Round of course protested that he was very sorry for all +this affair. The case was not in his hands personally. He had hoped +many years since that the matter was closed. His client, Mr. Mason of +Groby Park, had insisted that it should be reopened; and now he, Mr. +Round, really hardly knew what to say about it.</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Round, do you think it is quite impossible that the trial +should even now be abandoned?" asked Sir Peregrine very carefully.</p> + +<p>"Well, I fear it is. Mason thinks that the property is his, and is +determined to make another struggle for it. I am imputing nothing +wrong to the lady. I really am not in a position to have any opinion +of my <span class="nowrap">own—"</span></p> + +<p>"No, no, no; I understand. Of course your firm is bound to do the +best it can for its client. But, Mr. Round;—I know I am quite safe +with you."</p> + +<p>"Well; safe in one way I hope you are. But, Sir Peregrine, you must +of course remember that I am the attorney for the other side,—for +the side to which you are opposed."</p> + +<p>"But still;—all that you can want is your client's interest."</p> + +<p>"Of course we desire to serve his interest."</p> + +<p>"And with that view, Mr. Round, is it not possible that we might come +to some compromise?"</p> + +<p>"What;—by giving up part of the property?"</p> + +<p>"By giving up all the property," said Sir Peregrine, with +considerable emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Whew-w-w." Mr. Round at the moment made no other answer than this, +which terminated in a low whistle.</p> + +<p>"Better that, at once, than that she should die broken-hearted," said +Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>There was then silence between them for a minute or two, after which +Mr. Round, turning himself round in his chair so as to face his +visitor more fully, spoke as follows. "I told you just now, Sir +Peregrine, that I was Mr. Mason's attorney, and I must now tell you, +that as regards this interview between you and me, I will not hold +myself as being in that position. What you have said shall be as +though it had not been said; and as I am not, myself, taking any part +in the proceedings, this may with absolute strictness be the case. +<span class="nowrap">But—"</span></p> + +<p>"If I have said anything that I ought not to have +<span class="nowrap">said—"</span> began Sir Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Allow me for one moment," continued Mr. Round. "The fault is mine, +if there be a fault, as I should have explained to you that the +matter could hardly be discussed with propriety between us."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Round, I offer you my apology from the bottom of my heart."</p> + +<p>"No, Sir Peregrine. You shall offer me no apology, nor will I accept +any. I know no words strong enough to convey to you my esteem and +respect for your character."</p> + +<p>"Sir!"</p> + +<p>"But I will ask you to listen to me for a moment. If any compromise +be contemplated, it should be arranged by the advice of Mr. Furnival +and of Mr. Chaffanbrass, and the terms should be settled between Mr. +Aram and my son. But I cannot myself say that I see any possibility +of such a result. It is not however for me to advise. If on that +matter you wish for advice, I think that you had better see Mr. +Furnival."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Sir Peregrine, telling more and more of the story by every +utterance he made.</p> + +<p>"And now it only remains for me to assure you once more that the +words which have been spoken in this room shall be as though they had +not been spoken." And then Mr. Round made it very clear that there +was nothing more to be said between them on the subject of Lady +Mason. Sir Peregrine repeated his apology, collected his hat and +gloves, and with slow step made his way down to his cab, while Mr. +Round absolutely waited upon him till he saw him seated within the +vehicle.</p> + +<p>"So Mat is right after all," said the old attorney to himself as he +stood alone with his back to his own fire, thrusting his hands into +his trousers-pockets. "So Mat is right after all!" The meaning of +this exclamation will be plain to my readers. Mat had declared to his +father his conviction that Lady Mason had forged the codicil in +question, and the father was now also convinced that she had done so. +"Unfortunate woman!" he said; "poor, wretched woman!" And then he +began to calculate what might yet be her chances of escape. On the +whole he thought that she would escape. "Twenty years of possession," +he said to himself "and so excellent a character!" But, nevertheless, +he repeated to himself over and over again that she was a wretched, +miserable woman.</p> + +<p>We may say that all the persons most concerned were convinced, or +nearly convinced, of Lady Mason's guilt. Among her own friends Mr. +Furnival had no doubt of it, and Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Aram but +very little; whereas Sir Peregrine and Mrs. Orme of course had none. +On the other side Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath were both fully sure of +the truth, and the two Rounds, father and son, were quite of the same +mind. And yet, except with Dockwrath and Sir Peregrine, the most +honest and the most dishonest of the lot, the opinion was that she +would escape. These were five lawyers concerned, not one of whom gave +to the course of justice credit that it would ascertain the truth, +and not one of whom wished that the truth should be ascertained. +Surely had they been honest-minded in their profession they would all +have so wished;—have so wished, or else have abstained from all +professional intercourse in the matter. I cannot understand how any +gentleman can be willing to use his intellect for the propagation of +untruth, and to be paid for so using it. As to Mr. Chaffanbrass and +Mr. Solomon Aram,—to them the escape of a criminal under their +auspices would of course be a matter of triumph. To such work for +many years had they applied their sharp intellects and legal +knowledge. But of Mr. Furnival;—what shall we say of him?</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine went home very sad at heart, and crept silently back +into his own library. In the evening, when he was alone with Mrs. +Orme, he spoke one word to her. "Edith," he said, "I have seen Mr. +Round. We can do nothing for her there."</p> + +<p>"I feared not," said she.</p> + +<p>"No; we can do nothing for her there."</p> + +<p>After that Sir Peregrine took no step in the matter. What step could +he take? But he sat over his fire in his library, day after day, +thinking over it all, and waiting till those terrible assizes should +have come.</p> + + +<p><a name="c57" id="c57"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LVII.</h4> +<h3>THE LOVES AND HOPES OF ALBERT FITZALLEN.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Felix Graham, when he left poor Mary Snow, did not go on immediately +to the doctor's shop. He had made up his mind that Mary Snow should +never be his wife, and therefore considered it wise to lose no time +in making such arrangements as might be necessary both for his +release and for hers. But, nevertheless, he had not the heart to go +about the work the moment that he left her. He passed by the +apothecary's, and looking in saw a young man working sedulously at a +pestle. If Albert Fitzallen were fit to be her husband and willing to +be so, poor as he was himself, he would still make some pecuniary +sacrifice by which he might quiet his own conscience and make Mary's +marriage possible. He still had a sum of £1,200 belonging to him, +that being all his remaining capital; and the half of that he would +give to Mary as her dower. So in two days he returned, and again +looking in at the doctor's shop, again saw the young man at his work.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, my name is Albert Fitzallen," said the medical aspirant, +coming round the counter. There was no one else in the shop, and +Felix hardly knew how to accost him on so momentous a subject, while +he was still in charge of all that store of medicine, and liable to +be called away at any moment to relieve the ailments of Clapham. +Albert Fitzallen was a pale-faced, light-haired youth, with an +incipient moustache, with his hair parted in equal divisions over his +forehead, with elaborate shirt-cuffs elaborately turned back, and +with a white apron tied round him so that he might pursue his +vocation without injury to his nether garments. His face, however, +was not bad, nor mean, and had there not been about him a little air +of pretension, assumed perhaps to carry off the combined apron and +beard, Felix would have regarded him altogether with favourable eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is it in the medical way?" asked Fitzallen, when Graham suggested +that he should step out with him for a few minutes. Graham explained +that it was not in the medical way,—that it was in a way altogether +of a private nature; and then the young man, pulling off his apron +and wiping his hands on a thoroughly medicated towel, invoked the +master of the establishment from an inner room, and in a few minutes +Mary Snow's two lovers were walking together, side by side, along the +causeway.</p> + +<p>"I believe you know Miss Snow," said Felix, rushing at once into the +middle of all those delicate circumstances.</p> + +<p>Albert Fitzallen drew himself up, and declared that he had that +honour.</p> + +<p>"I also know her," said Felix. "My name is Felix +<span class="nowrap">Graham—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, very well," said Albert. The street in which they were +standing was desolate, and the young man was able to assume a look of +decided hostility without encountering any other eyes than those of +his rival. "If you have anything to say to me, sir, I am quite +prepared to listen to you—to listen to you, and to answer you. I +have heard your name mentioned by Miss Snow." And Albert Fitzallen +stood his ground as though he were at once going to cover himself +with his pistol arm.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know you have. Mary has told me what has passed between you. +You may regard me, Mr. Fitzallen, as Mary's best and surest friend."</p> + +<p>"I know you have been a friend to her; I am aware of that. But, Mr. +Graham, if you will allow me to say so, friendship is one thing, and +the warm love of a devoted bosom is another."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"A woman's heart is a treasure not to be bought by any efforts of +friendship," said Fitzallen.</p> + +<p>"I fully agree with you there," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"Far be it from me to make any boast," continued the other, "or even +to hint that I have gained a place in that lady's affections. I know +my own position too well, and say proudly that I am existing only on +hope." Here, to show his pride, he hit himself with his closed fist +on his shirt-front. "But, Mr. Graham, I am free to declare, even in +your presence, though you may be her best and surest friend,"—and +there was not wanting from the tone of his voice a strong flavour of +scorn as he repeated these words—"that I do exist on hope, let your +claims be what they will. If you desire to make such hope on my part +a cause of quarrel, I have nothing to say against it." And then he +twirled all that he could twirl of that incipient moustache.</p> + +<p>"By no means," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Fitzallen. "Then we understand that the arena +of love is open to us both. I do not fail to appreciate the immense +advantages which you enjoy in this struggle." And then Fitzallen +looked up into Graham's ugly face, and thought of his own appearance +in the looking-glass.</p> + +<p>"What I want to know is this," said Felix. "If you marry Mary Snow, +what means have you of maintaining her? Would your mother receive her +into her house? I presume you are not a partner in that shop; but +would it be possible to get you in as a partner, supposing Mary were +to marry you and had a little money as her fortune?"</p> + +<p>"Eh!" said Albert, dropping his look of pride, allowing his hand to +fall from his lips, and standing still before his companion with his +mouth wide open.</p> + +<p>"Of course you mean honestly by dear Mary."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, yes, on the honour of a gentleman. My intentions, sir, +<span class="nowrap">are—.</span> Mr. Graham, +I love that young lady with a devotion of heart, +that—that—<span class="nowrap">that—.</span> Then +you don't mean to marry her yourself; eh, Mr. Graham?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Fitzallen, I do not. And now, if you will so far confide in +me, we will talk over your prospects."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well. I'm sure you are very kind. But Miss Snow did tell +<span class="nowrap">me—"</span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know she did, and she was quite right. But as you said just +now, a woman's heart cannot be bought by friendship. I have not been +a bad friend to Mary, but I had no right to expect that I could win +her love in that way. Whether or no you may be able to succeed, I +will not say, but I have abandoned the pursuit." In all which Graham +intended to be exceedingly honest, but was, in truth, rather +hypocritical.</p> + +<p>"Then the course is open to me," said Fitzallen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the course is open," answered Graham.</p> + +<p>"But the race has still to be run. Don't you think that Miss Snow is +of her nature very—very cold?"</p> + +<p>Felix remembered the one kiss beneath the lamp-post,—the one kiss +given, and received. He remembered also that Mary's acquaintance with +the gentleman must necessarily have been short; and he made no answer +to this question. But he made a comparison. What would Madeline have +said and done had he attempted such an iniquity? And he thought of +her flashing eyes and terrible scorn, of the utter indignation of all +the Staveley family, and of the wretched abyss into which the +offender would have fallen.</p> + +<p>He brought back the subject at once to the young man's means, to his +mother, and to the doctor's shop; and though he learned nothing that +was very promising, neither did he learn anything that was the +reverse. Albert Fitzallen did not ride a very high horse when he +learned that his supposed rival was so anxious to assist him. He was +quite willing to be guided by Graham, and, in that matter of the +proposed partnership, was sure that old Balsam, the owner of the +business, would be glad to take a sum of money down. "He has a son of +his own," said Albert, "but he don't take to it at all. He's gone +into wine and spirits; but he don't sell half as much as he drinks."</p> + +<p>Felix then proposed that he should call on Mrs. Fitzallen, and to +this Albert gave a blushing consent. "Mother has heard of it," said +Albert, "but I don't exactly know how." Perhaps Mrs. Fitzallen was as +attentive as Mrs. Thomas had been to stray documents packed away in +odd places. "And I suppose I may call on—on—Mary?" asked the lover, +as Graham took his leave. But Felix could give no authority for this, +and explained that Mrs. Thomas might be found to be a dragon still +guarding the Hesperides. Would it not be better to wait till Mary's +father had been informed? and then, if all things went well, he might +prosecute the affair in due form and as an acknowledged lover.</p> + +<p>All this was very nice, and as it was quite unexpected, Fitzallen +could not but regard himself as a fortunate young man. He had never +contemplated the possibility of Mary Snow being an heiress. And when +his mother had spoken to him of the hopelessness of his passion, she +had suggested that he might perhaps marry his Mary in five or six +years. Now the dearest wish of his heart was brought close within his +reach, and he must have been a happy man. But yet, though this +certainly was so, nevertheless, there was a feeling of coldness about +his love, and almost of disappointment as he again took his place +behind the counter. The sorrows of Lydia in the play when she finds +that her passion meets with general approbation are very absurd but, +nevertheless, are quite true to nature. Lovers would be great losers +if the path of love were always to run smooth. Under such a +dispensation, indeed, there would probably be no lovers. The matter +would be too tame. Albert did not probably bethink himself of a +becoming disguise, as did Lydia,—of an amiable ladder of ropes, of a +conscious moon, or a Scotch parson; but he did feel, in some +undefined manner, that the romance of his life had been taken away +from him. Five minutes under a lamp-post with Mary Snow was sweeter +to him than the promise of a whole bevy of evenings spent in the same +society, with all the comforts of his mother's drawing-room around +him. Ah, yes, dear readers—my male readers of course I mean—were +not those minutes under the lamp-post always very pleasant?</p> + +<p>But Graham encountered none of this feeling when he discussed the +same subject with Albert's mother. She was sufficiently alive to the +material view of the matter, and knew how much of a man's married +happiness depends on his supplies of bread and butter. Six hundred +pounds! Mr. Graham was very kind—very kind indeed. She hadn't a word +to say against Mary Snow. She had seen her, and thought her very +pretty and modest looking. Albert was certainly warmly attached to +the young lady. Of that she was quite certain. And she would say this +of Albert,—that a better-disposed young man did not exist anywhere. +He came home quite regular to his meals, and spent ten hours a day +behind the counter in Mr. Balsam's shop—ten hours a day, Sundays +included, which Mrs. Fitzallen regarded as a great drawback to the +medical line—as should I also, most undoubtedly. But six hundred +pounds would make a great difference. Mrs. Fitzallen little doubted +but that sum would tempt Mr. Balsam into a partnership, or perhaps +the five hundred, leaving one hundred for furniture. In such a case +Albert would spend his Sundays at home, of course. After that, so +much having been settled, Felix Graham got into an omnibus and took +himself back to his own chambers.</p> + +<p>So far was so good. This idea of a model wife had already become a +very expensive idea, and in winding it up to its natural conclusion +poor Graham was willing to spend almost every shilling that he could +call his own. But there was still another difficulty in his way. What +would Snow père say? Snow père was, he knew, a man with whom dealings +would be more difficult than with Albert Fitzallen. And then, seeing +that he had already promised to give his remaining possessions to +Albert Fitzallen, with what could he bribe Snow père to abandon that +natural ambition to have a barrister for his son-in-law? In these +days, too, Snow père had derogated even from the position in which +Graham had first known him, and had become but little better than a +drunken, begging impostor. What a father-in-law to have had! And then +Felix Graham thought of Judge Staveley.</p> + +<p>He sent, however, to the engraver, and the man was not long in +obeying the summons. In latter days Graham had not seen him +frequently, having bestowed his alms through Mary, and was shocked at +the unmistakable evidence of the gin-shop which the man's appearance +and voice betrayed. How dreadful to the sight are those watery eyes; +that red, uneven, pimpled nose; those fallen cheeks; and that +hanging, slobbered mouth! Look at the uncombed hair, the beard half +shorn, the weak, impotent gait of the man, and the tattered raiment, +all eloquent of gin! You would fain hold your nose when he comes nigh +you, he carries with him so foul an evidence of his only and his +hourly indulgence. You would do so, had you not still a respect for +his feelings, which he himself has entirely forgotten to maintain. +How terrible is that absolute loss of all personal dignity which the +drunkard is obliged to undergo! And then his voice! Every tone has +been formed by gin, and tells of the havoc which the compound has +made within his throat. I do not know whether such a man as this is +not the vilest thing which grovels on God's earth. There are women +whom we affect to scorn with the full power of our contempt; but I +doubt whether any woman sinks to a depth so low as that. She also may +be a drunkard, and as such may more nearly move our pity and affect +our hearts, but I do not think she ever becomes so nauseous a thing +as the man that has abandoned all the hopes of life for gin. You can +still touch her;—ay, and if the task be in one's way, can touch her +gently, striving to bring her back to decency. But the other! Well, +one should be willing to touch him too, to make that attempt of +bringing back upon him also. I can only say that the task is both +nauseous and unpromising. Look at him as he stands there before the +foul, reeking, sloppy bar, with the glass in his hand, which he has +just emptied. See the grimace with which he puts it down, as though +the dram had been almost too unpalatable. It is the last touch of +hypocrisy with which he attempts to cover the offence;—as though he +were to say, "I do it for my stomach's sake; but you know how I abhor +it." Then he skulks sullenly away, speaking a word to no +one,—shuffling with his feet, shaking himself in his foul rags, +pressing himself into a heap—as though striving to drive the warmth +of the spirit into his extremities! And there he stands lounging at +the corner of the street, till his short patience is exhausted, and +he returns with his last penny for the other glass. When that has +been swallowed the policeman is his guardian.</p> + +<p>Reader, such as you and I have come to that, when abandoned by the +respect which a man owes to himself. May God in his mercy watch over +us and protect us both!</p> + +<p>Such a man was Snow père as he stood before Graham in his chambers in +the Temple. He could not ask him to sit down, so he himself stood up +as he talked to him. At first the man was civil, twirling his old hat +about, and shifting from one foot to the other;—very civil, and also +somewhat timid, for he knew that he was half drunk at the moment. But +when he began to ascertain what was Graham's object in sending for +him, and to understand that the gentleman before him did not propose +to himself the honour of being his son-in-law, then his civility left +him, and, drunk as he was, he spoke out his mind with sufficient +freedom.</p> + +<p>"You mean to say, Mr. Graham"—and under the effect of gin he turned +the name into Gorm—"that you are going to throw that young girl +over?"</p> + +<p>"I mean to say no such thing. I shall do for her all that is in my +power. And if that is not as much as she deserves, it will, at any +rate, be more than you deserve for her."</p> + +<p>"And you won't marry her?"</p> + +<p>"No; I shall not marry her. Nor does she wish it. I trust that she +will be engaged, with my full +<span class="nowrap">approbation—"</span></p> + +<p>"And what the deuce, sir, is your full approbation to me? Whose child +is she, I should like to know? Look here, Mr. Gorm; perhaps you +forget that you wrote me this letter when I allowed you to have the +charge of that young girl?" And he took out from his breast a very +greasy pocket-book, and displayed to Felix his own much-worn +letter,—holding it, however, at a distance, so that it should not be +torn from his hands by any sudden raid. "Do you think, sir, I would +have given up my child if I didn't know she was to be married +respectable? My child is as dear to me as another man's."</p> + +<p>"I hope she is. And you are a very lucky fellow to have her so well +provided for. I've told you all I've got to say, and now you may go."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gorm!"</p> + +<p>"I've nothing more to say; and if I had, I would not say it to you +now. Your child shall be taken care of."</p> + +<p>"That's what I call pretty cool on the part of any gen'leman. And +you're to break your word,—a regular breach of promise, and nothing +ain't to come of it! I'll tell you what, Mr. Gorm, you'll find that +something will come of it. What do you think I took this letter for?"</p> + +<p>"You took it, I hope, for Mary's protection."</p> + +<p>"And by —— she shall be protected."</p> + +<p>"She shall, undoubtedly; but I fear not by you. For the present I +will protect her; and I hope that soon a husband will do so who will +love her. Now, Mr. Snow, I've told you all I've got to say, and I +must trouble you to leave me."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless there were many more words between them before Graham +could find himself alone in his chambers. Though Snow père might be a +thought tipsy—a sheet or so in the wind, as folks say, he was not +more tipsy than was customary with him, and knew pretty well what he +was about. "And what am I to do with myself; Mr. Gorm?" he asked in a +snivelling voice, when the idea began to strike him that it might +perhaps be held by the courts of law that his intended son-in-law was +doing well by his daughter.</p> + +<p>"Work," said Graham, turning upon him sharply and almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well. It's very well to say 'Work!'"</p> + +<p>"You'll find it well to do it, too. Work, and don't drink. You hardly +think, I suppose, that if I had married your daughter I should have +found myself obliged to support you in idleness?"</p> + +<p>"It would have been a great comfort in my old age to have had a +daughter's house to go to," said Snow, naïvely, and now reduced to +lachrymose distress.</p> + +<p>But when he found that Felix would do nothing for him; that he would +not on the present occasion lend him a sovereign, or even half a +crown, he again became indignant and paternal, and in this state of +mind was turned out of the room.</p> + +<p>"Heaven and earth!" said Felix to himself, clenching his hands and +striking the table with both of them at the same moment. That was the +man with whom he had proposed to link himself in the closest ties of +family connection. Albert Fitzallen did not know Mr. Snow; but it +might be a question whether it would not be Graham's duty to +introduce them to each other.</p> + + +<p><a name="c58" id="c58"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LVIII.</h4> +<h3>MISS STAVELEY DECLINES TO EAT MINCED VEAL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The house at Noningsby was now very quiet. All the visitors had gone, +including even the Arbuthnots. Felix Graham and Sophia Furnival, that +terrible pair of guests, had relieved Mrs. Staveley of their +presence; but, alas! the mischief they had done remained behind them. +The house was very quiet, for Augustus and the judge were up in town +during the greater part of the week, and Madeline and her mother were +alone. The judge was to come back to Noningsby but once before he +commenced the circuit which was to terminate at Alston; and it seemed +to be acknowledged now on all sides that nothing more of importance +was to be done or said in that locality until after Lady Mason's +trial.</p> + +<p>It may be imagined that poor Madeline was not very happy. Felix had +gone away, having made no sign, and she knew that her mother rejoiced +that he had so gone. She never accused her mother of cruelty, even +within her own heart. She seemed to realise to herself the assurance +that a marriage with the man she loved was a happiness which she had +no right to expect. She knew that her father was rich. She was aware +that in all probability her own fortune would be considerable. She +was quite sure that Felix Graham was clever and fit to make his way +through the world. And yet she did not think it hard that she should +be separated from him. She acknowledged from the very first that he +was not the sort of man whom she ought to have loved, and therefore +she was prepared to submit.</p> + +<p>It was, no doubt, the fact that Felix Graham had never whispered to +her a word of love, and that therefore, on that ground, she had no +excuse for hope. But, had that been all, she would not have +despaired. Had that been all, she might have doubted, but her doubt +would have been strongly mingled with the sweetness of hope. He had +never whispered a syllable of love, but she had heard the tone of his +voice as she spoke a word to him at his chamber door; she had seen +his eyes as they fell on her when he was lifted into the carriage; +she had felt the tremor of his touch on that evening when she walked +up to him across the drawing-room and shook hands with him. Such a +girl as Madeline Staveley does not analyze her feelings on such a +matter, and then draw her conclusions. But a conclusion is drawn; the +mind does receive an impression; and the conclusion and impression +are as true as though they had been reached by the aid of logical +reasoning. Had the match been such as her mother would have approved, +she would have had a hope as to Felix Graham's love—strong enough +for happiness.</p> + +<p>As it was, there was no use in hoping; and therefore she +resolved—having gone through much logical reasoning on this +head—that by her all ideas of love must be abandoned. As regarded +herself, she must be content to rest by her mother's side as a flower +ungathered. That she could marry no man without the approval of her +father and mother was a thing to her quite certain; but it was, at +any rate, as certain that she could marry no man without her own +approval. Felix Graham was beyond her reach. That verdict she herself +pronounced, and to it she submitted. But Peregrine Orme was still +more distant from her;—Peregrine Orme, or any other of the curled +darlings who might come that way playing the part of a suitor. She +knew what she owed to her mother, but she also knew her own +privileges.</p> + +<p>There was nothing said on the subject between the mother and child +during three days. Lady Staveley was more than ordinarily +affectionate to her daughter, and in that way made known the thoughts +which were oppressing her; but she did so in no other way. All this +Madeline understood, and thanked her mother with the sweetest smiles +and the most constant companionship. Nor was she, even now, +absolutely unhappy, or wretchedly miserable; as under such +circumstances would be the case with many girls. She knew all that +she was prepared to abandon, but she understood also how much +remained to her. Her life was her own, and with her life the energy +to use it. Her soul was free. And her heart, though burdened with +love, could endure its load without sinking. Let him go forth on his +career. She would remain in the shade, and be contented while she +watched it.</p> + +<p>So strictly wise and philosophically serene had Madeline become +within a few days of Graham's departure, that she snubbed poor Mrs. +Baker, when that good-natured and sharp-witted housekeeper said a +word or two in praise of her late patient.</p> + +<p>"We are very lonely, ain't we, miss, without Mr. Graham to look +after?" said Mrs. Baker.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure we are all very glad that he has so far recovered as to be +able to be moved."</p> + +<p>"That's in course,—though I still say that he went before he ought. +He was such a nice gentleman. Where there's one better, there's +twenty worse; and as full of cleverness as an egg's full of meat." In +answer to which Madeline said nothing.</p> + +<p>"At any rate, Miss Madeline, you ought to say a word for him," +continued Mrs. Baker; "for he used to worship the sound of your +voice. I've known him lay there and listen, listen, listen, for your +very footfall."</p> + +<p>"How can you talk such stuff, Mrs. Baker? You have never known +anything of the kind—and even if he had, how could you know it? You +should not talk such nonsense to me, and I beg you won't again." Then +she went away, and began to read a paper about sick people written by +Florence Nightingale.</p> + +<p>But it was by no means Lady Staveley's desire that her daughter +should take to the Florence Nightingale line of life. The charities +of Noningsby were done on a large scale, in a quiet, handsome, +methodical manner, and were regarded by the mistress of the mansion +as a very material part of her life's duty; but she would have been +driven distracted had she been told that a daughter of hers was about +to devote herself exclusively to charity. Her ideas of general +religion were the same. Morning and evening prayers, church twice on +Sundays, attendance at the Lord's table at any rate once a month, +were to herself—and in her estimation for her own family—essentials +of life. And they had on her their practical effects. She was not +given to backbiting—though, when stirred by any motive near to her +own belongings, she would say an ill-natured word or two. She was +mild and forbearing to her inferiors. Her hand was open to the poor. +She was devoted to her husband and her children. In no respect was +she self-seeking or self-indulgent. But, nevertheless, she +appreciated thoroughly the comforts of a good income—for herself and +for her children. She liked to see nice-dressed and nice-mannered +people about her, preferring those whose fathers and mothers were +nice before them. She liked to go about in her own carriage, +comfortably. She liked the feeling that her husband was a judge, and +that he and she were therefore above other lawyers and other lawyers' +wives. She would not like to have seen Mrs. Furnival walk out of a +room before her, nor perhaps to see Sophia Furnival when married take +precedence of her own married daughter. She liked to live in a large +place like Noningsby, and preferred country society to that of the +neighbouring town.</p> + +<p>It will be said that I have drawn an impossible character, and +depicted a woman who served both God and Mammon. To this accusation I +will not plead, but will ask my accusers whether in their life's +travail they have met no such ladies as Lady Staveley?</p> + +<p>But such as she was, whether good or bad, she had no desire whatever +that her daughter should withdraw herself from the world, and give up +to sick women what was meant for mankind. Her idea of a woman's +duties comprehended the birth, bringing up, education, and settlement +in life of children, also due attendance upon a husband, with a close +regard to his special taste in cookery. There was her granddaughter +Marian. She was already thinking what sort of a wife she would make, +and what commencements of education would best fit her to be a good +mother. It is hardly too much to say that Marian's future children +were already a subject of care to her. Such being her disposition, it +was by no means matter of joy to her when she found that Madeline was +laying out for herself little ways of life, tending in some slight +degree to the monastic. Nothing was said about it, but she fancied +that Madeline had doffed a ribbon or two in her usual evening attire. +That she read during certain fixed hours in the morning was very +manifest. As to that daily afternoon service at four o'clock—she had +very often attended that, and it was hardly worthy of remark that she +now went to it every day. But there seemed at this time to be a +monotonous regularity about her visits to the poor, which told to +Lady Staveley's mind—she hardly knew what tale. She herself visited +the poor, seeing some of them almost daily. If it was foul weather +they came to her, and if it was fair weather she went to them. But +Madeline, without saying a word to any one, had adopted a plan of +going out exactly at the same hour with exactly the same object, in +all sorts of weather. All this made Lady Staveley uneasy; and then, +by way of counterpoise, she talked of balls, and offered Madeline +<i>carte blanche</i> as to a new dress for that special one which would +grace the assizes. "I don't think I shall go," said Madeline; and +thus Lady Staveley became really unhappy. Would not Felix Graham be +better than no son-in-law? When some one had once very strongly +praised Florence Nightingale in Lady Staveley's presence, she had +stoutly declared her opinion that it was a young woman's duty to get +married. For myself, I am inclined to agree with her. Then came the +second Friday after Graham's departure, and Lady Staveley observed, +as she and her daughter sat at dinner alone, that Madeline would eat +nothing but potatoes and sea-kale. "My dear, you will be ill if you +don't eat some meat."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I shall not," said Madeline with her prettiest smile.</p> + +<p>"But you always used to like minced veal."</p> + +<p>"So I do, but I won't have any to-day, mamma, thank you."</p> + +<p>Then Lady Staveley resolved that she would tell the judge that Felix +Graham, bad as he might be, might come there if he pleased. Even +Felix Graham would be better than no son-in-law at all.</p> + +<p>On the following day, the Saturday, the judge came down with +Augustus, to spend his last Sunday at home before the beginning of +his circuit, and some little conversation respecting Felix Graham did +take place between him and his wife.</p> + +<p>"If they are both really fond of each other, they had better marry," +said the judge, curtly.</p> + +<p>"But it is terrible to think of their having no income," said his +wife.</p> + +<p>"We must get them an income. You'll find that Graham will fall on his +legs at last."</p> + +<p>"He's a very long time before he begins to use them," said Lady +Staveley. "And then you know The Cleeve is such a nice property, and +Mr. Orme <span class="nowrap">is—"</span></p> + +<p>"But, my love, it seems that she does not like Mr. Orme."</p> + +<p>"No, she doesn't," said the poor mother in a tone of voice that was +very lachrymose. "But if she would only wait she might like +him,—might she not now? He is such a very handsome young man."</p> + +<p>"If you ask me, I don't think his beauty will do it."</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose she cares for that sort of thing," said Lady +Staveley, almost crying. "But I'm sure of this, if she were to go and +make a nun of herself, it would break my heart,—it would, indeed. I +should never hold up my head again."</p> + +<p>What could Lady Staveley's idea have been of the sorrows of some +other mothers, whose daughters throw themselves away after a +different fashion?</p> + +<p>After lunch on Sunday the judge asked his daughter to walk with him, +and on that occasion the second church service was abandoned. She got +on her bonnet and gloves, her walking-boots and winter shawl, and +putting her arm happily and comfortably within his, started for what +she knew would be a long walk.</p> + +<p>"We'll get as far as the bottom of Cleeve Hill," said the judge.</p> + +<p>Now the bottom of Cleeve Hill, by the path across the fields and the +common, was five miles from Noningsby.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as for that, I'll walk to the top if you like," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"If you do, my dear, you'll have to go up alone," said the judge. And +so they started.</p> + +<p>There was a crisp, sharp enjoyment attached to a long walk with her +father which Madeline always loved, and on the present occasion she +was willing to be very happy; but as she started, with her arm +beneath his, she feared she knew not what. She had a secret, and her +father might touch upon it; she had a sore, though it was not an +unwholesome festering sore, and her father might probe the wound. +There was, therefore, the slightest shade of hypocrisy in the +alacrity with which she prepared herself, and in the pleasant tone of +her voice as she walked down the avenue towards the gate.</p> + +<p>But by the time that they had gone a mile, when their feet had left +the road and were pressing the grassy field-path, there was no longer +any hypocrisy in her happiness. Madeline believed that no human being +could talk as did her father, and on this occasion he came out with +his freshest thoughts and his brightest wit. Nor did he, by any +means, have the talk all to himself. The delight of Judge Staveley's +conversation consisted chiefly in that—that though he might bring on +to the carpet all the wit and all the information going, he rarely +uttered much beyond his own share of words. And now they talked of +pictures and politics—of the new gallery that was not to be built at +Charing Cross, and the great onslaught which was not to end in the +dismissal of Ministers. And then they got to books—to novels, new +poetry, magazines, essays, and reviews; and with the slightest touch +of pleasant sarcasm the judge passed sentence on the latest efforts +of his literary contemporaries. And thus at last they settled down on +a certain paper which had lately appeared in a certain Quarterly—a +paper on a grave subject, which had been much discussed—and the +judge on a sudden stayed his hand, and spared his raillery. "You have +not heard, I suppose, who wrote that?" said he. No; Madeline had not +heard. She would much like to know. When young people begin their +world of reading there is nothing so pleasant to them as knowing the +little secrets of literature; who wrote this and that, of which folk +are then talking;—who manages this periodical, and puts the salt and +pepper into those reviews. The judge always knew these events of the +inner literary world, and would communicate them freely to Madeline +as they walked. No; there was no longer the slightest touch of +hypocrisy in her pleasant manner and eager voice as she answered, +"No, papa, I have not heard. Was it Mr. So-and-so?" and she named an +ephemeral literary giant of the day. "No," said the judge, "it was +not So-and-so; but yet you might guess, as you know the gentleman." +Then the slight shade of hypocrisy came upon her again in a moment. +"She couldn't guess," she said; "she didn't know." But as she thus +spoke the tone of her voice was altered. "That article," said the +judge, "was written by Felix Graham. It is uncommonly clever, and yet +there are a great many people who abuse it."</p> + +<p>And now all conversation was stopped. Poor Madeline, who had been so +ready with her questions, so eager with her answers, so communicative +and so inquiring, was stricken dumb on the instant. She had ceased +for some time to lean upon his arm, and therefore he could not feel +her hand tremble; and he was too generous and too kind to look into +her face; but he knew that he had touched the fibres of her heart, +and that all her presence of mind had for the moment fled from her. +Of course such was the case, and of course he knew it. Had he not +brought her out there, that they might be alone together when he +subjected her to the violence of this shower-bath?</p> + +<p>"Yes," he continued, "that was written by our friend Graham. Do you +remember, Madeline, the conversation which you and I had about him in +the library some time since?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "she remembered it."</p> + +<p>"And so do I," said the judge, "and have thought much about it since. +A very clever fellow is Felix Graham. There can be no doubt of that."</p> + +<p>"Is he?" said Madeline.</p> + +<p>I am inclined to think that the judge also had lost something of his +presence of mind, or, at least, of his usual power of conversation. +He had brought his daughter out there with the express purpose of +saying to her a special word or two; he had beat very wide about the +bush with the view of mentioning a certain name; and now that his +daughter was there, and the name had been mentioned, it seemed that +he hardly knew how to proceed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is clever enough," repeated the judge, "clever enough; and +of high principles and an honest purpose. The fault which people find +with him is this,—that he is not practical. He won't take the world +as he finds it. If he can mend it, well and good; we all ought to do +something to mend it; but while we are mending it we must live in +it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we must live in it," said Madeline, who hardly knew at the +moment whether it would be better to live or die in it. Had her +father remarked that they must all take wings and fly to heaven, she +would have assented.</p> + +<p>Then the judge walked on a few paces in silence, bethinking himself +that he might as well speak out at once the words which he had to +say. "Madeline, my darling," said he, "have you the courage to tell +me openly what you think of Felix Graham?"</p> + +<p>"What I think of him, papa?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my child. It may be that you are in some difficulty at this +moment, and that I can help you. It may be that your heart is sadder +than it would be if you knew all my thoughts and wishes respecting +you, and all your mother's. I have never had many secrets from my +children, Madeline, and I should be pleased now if you could see into +my mind and know all my thoughts and wishes as they regard you."</p> + +<p>"Dear papa!"</p> + +<p>"To see you happy—you and Augustus and Isabella—that is now our +happiness; not to see you rich or great. High position and a +plentiful income are great blessings in this world, so that they be +achieved without a stain. But even in this world they are not the +greatest blessings. There are things much sweeter than them." As he +said this, Madeline did not attempt to answer him, but she put her +arm once more within his, and clung to his side.</p> + +<p>"Money and rank are only good, if every step by which they are gained +be good also. I should never blush to see my girl the wife of a poor +man whom she loved; but I should be stricken to the core of my heart +if I knew that she had become the wife of a rich man whom she did not +love."</p> + +<p>"Papa!" she said, clinging to him. She had meant to assure him that +that sorrow should never be his, but she could not get beyond the one +word.</p> + +<p>"If you love this man, let him come," said the judge, carried by his +feelings somewhat beyond the point to which he had intended to go. "I +know no harm of him. I know nothing but good of him. If you are sure +of your own heart, let it be so. He shall be to me as another +son,—to me and to your mother. Tell me, Madeline, shall it be so?"</p> + +<p>She was sure enough of her own heart; but how was she to be sure of +that other heart? "It shall be so," said her father. But a man could +not be turned into a lover and a husband because she and her father +agreed to desire it;—not even if her mother would join in that wish. +She had confessed to her mother that she loved this man, and the +confession had been repeated to her father. But she had never +expressed even a hope that she was loved in return. "But he has never +spoken to me, papa," she said, whispering the words ever so softly +lest the winds should carry them.</p> + +<p>"No; I know he has never spoken to you," said the judge. "He told me +so himself. I like him the better for that."</p> + +<p>So then there had been other communications made besides that which +she had made to her mother. Mr. Graham had spoken to her father, and +had spoken to him about her. In what way had he done this, and how +had he spoken? What had been his object, and when had it been done? +Had she been indiscreet, and allowed him to read her secret? And then +a horrid thought came across her mind. Was he to come there and offer +her his hand because he pitied and was sorry for her? The Friday +fastings and the evening church and the sick visits would be better +far than that. She could not however muster courage to ask her father +any question as to that interview between him and Mr. Graham.</p> + +<p>"Well, my love," he said, "I know it is impertinent to ask a young +lady to speak on such a subject; but fathers are impertinent. Be +frank with me. I have told you what I think, and your mamma agrees +with me. Young Mr. Orme would have been her +<span class="nowrap">favourite—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, that is impossible."</p> + +<p>"So I perceive, my dear, and therefore we will say no more about it. +I only mention his name because I want you to understand that you may +speak to your mamma quite openly on the subject. He is a fine young +fellow, is Peregrine Orme."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he is, papa."</p> + +<p>"But that is no reason you should marry him if you don't like him."</p> + +<p>"I could never like him,—in that way."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear. There is an end of that, and I'm sorry for him. +I think that if I had been a young man at The Cleeve, I should have +done just the same. And now let us decide this important question. +When Master Graham's ribs, arms, and collar bones are a little +stronger, shall we ask him to come back to Noningsby?"</p> + +<p>"If you please, papa."</p> + +<p>"Very well, we'll have him here for the assize week. Poor fellow, +he'll have a hard job of work on hand just then, and won't have much +time for philandering. With Chaffanbrass to watch him on his own +side, and Leatherham on the other, I don't envy him his position. I +almost think I should keep my arm in the sling till the assizes were +over, by way of exciting a little pity."</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Graham going to defend Lady Mason?"</p> + +<p>"To help to do so, my dear."</p> + +<p>"But, papa, she is innocent; don't you feel sure of that?"</p> + +<p>The judge was not quite so sure as he had been once. However, he said +nothing of his doubts to Madeline. "Mr. Graham's task on that account +will only be the more trying if it becomes difficult to establish her +innocence."</p> + +<p>"Poor lady!" said Madeline. "You won't be the judge; will you, papa?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not. I would have preferred to have gone any other +circuit than to have presided in a case affecting so near a +neighbour, and I may almost say a friend. Baron Maltby will sit in +that court."</p> + +<p>"And will Mr. Graham have to do much, papa?"</p> + +<p>"It will be an occasion of very great anxiety to him, no doubt." And +then they began to return home,—Madeline forming a little plan in +her mind by which Mr. Furnival and Mr. Chaffanbrass were to fail +absolutely in making out that lady's innocence, but the fact was to +be established to the satisfaction of the whole court, and of all the +world, by the judicious energy of Felix Graham.</p> + +<p>On their homeward journey the judge again spoke of pictures and +books, of failures and successes, and Madeline listened to him +gratefully. But she did not again take much part in the conversation. +She could not now express a very fluent opinion on any subject, and +to tell the truth, could have been well satisfied to have been left +entirely to her own thoughts. But just before they came out again +upon the road, her father stopped her and asked a direct question. +"Tell me, Madeline, are you happy now?"</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill58" id="ill58"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill58.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill58-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"Tell me, Madeline, are you happy now?"' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"Tell me, Madeline, are you happy now?"<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill58.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"That is right. And what you are to understand is this; Mr. Graham +will now be privileged by your mother and me to address you. He has +already asked my permission to do so, and I told him that I must +consider the matter before I either gave it or withheld it. I shall +now give him that permission." Whereupon Madeline made her answer by +a slight pressure upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"But you may be sure of this, my dear; I shall be very discreet, and +commit you to nothing. If he should choose to ask you any question, +you will be at liberty to give him any answer that you may think +fit." But Madeline at once confessed to herself that no such liberty +remained to her. If Mr. Graham should choose to ask her a certain +question, it would be in her power to give him only one answer. Had +he been kept away, had her father told her that such a marriage might +not be, she would not have broken her heart. She had already told +herself, that under such circumstances, she could live and still live +contented. But now,—now if the siege were made, the town would have +to capitulate at the first shot. Was it not an understood thing that +the governor had been recommended by the king to give up the keys as +soon as they were asked for?</p> + +<p>"You will tell your mamma of this my dear," said the judge, as they +were entering their own gate.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Madeline. But she felt that, in this matter, her father +was more surely her friend than her mother. And indeed she could +understand her mother's opposition to poor Felix, much better than +her father's acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"Do, my dear. What is anything to us in this world, if we are not all +happy together? She thinks that you have become sad, and she must +know that you are so no longer."</p> + +<p>"But I have not been sad, papa," said Madeline, thinking with some +pride of her past heroism.</p> + +<p>When they reached the hall-door she had one more question to ask; but +she could not look in her father's face as she asked.</p> + +<p>"Papa, is that review you were speaking of here at Noningsby?"</p> + +<p>"You will find it on my study table; but remember, Madeline, I don't +above half go along with him."</p> + +<p>The judge went into his study before dinner, and found that the +review had been taken.</p> + + +<p><a name="c59" id="c59"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LIX.</h4> +<h3>NO SURRENDER.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Sir Peregrine Orme had gone up to London, had had his interview with +Mr. Round, and had failed. He had then returned home, and hardly a +word on the subject had been spoken between him and Mrs. Orme. Indeed +little or nothing was now said between them as to Lady Mason or the +trial. What was the use of speaking on a subject that was in every +way the cause of so much misery? He had made up his mind that it was +no longer possible for him to take any active step in the matter. He +had become bail for her appearance in court, and that was the last +trifling act of friendship which he could show her. How was it any +longer possible that he could befriend her? He could not speak up on +her behalf with eager voice, and strong indignation against her +enemies, as had formerly been his practice. He could give her no +counsel. His counsel would have taught her to abandon the property in +the first instance, let the result be what it might. He had made his +little effort in that direction by seeing the attorney, and his +little effort had been useless. It was quite clear to him that there +was nothing further for him to do;—nothing further for him, who but +a week or two since was so actively putting himself forward and +letting the world know that he was Lady Mason's champion.</p> + +<p>Would he have to go into court as a witness? His mind was troubled +much in his endeavour to answer that question. He had been her great +friend. For years he had been her nearest neighbour. His +daughter-in-law still clung to her. She had lived at his house. She +had been chosen to be his wife. Who could speak to her character, if +he could not do so? And yet, what could he say, if so called on? Mr. +Furnival, Mr. Chaffanbrass—all those who would have the selection of +the witnesses, believing themselves in their client's innocence, as +no doubt they did, would of course imagine that he believed in it +also. Could he tell them that it would not be in his power to utter a +single word in her favour?</p> + +<p>In these days Mrs. Orme went daily to the Farm. Indeed, she never +missed a day from that on which Lady Mason left The Cleeve up to the +time of the trial. It seemed to Sir Peregrine that his daughter's +affection for this woman had grown with the knowledge of her guilt; +but, as I have said before, no discussion on the matter now took +place between them. Mrs. Orme would generally take some opportunity +of saying that she had been at Orley Farm; but that was all.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine during this time never left the house once, except for +morning service on Sundays. He hung his hat up on its accustomed peg +when he returned from that ill-omened visit to Mr. Round, and did not +move it for days, ay, for weeks,—except on Sunday mornings. At first +his groom would come to him, suggesting to him that he should ride, +and the woodman would speak to him about the young coppices; but +after a few days they gave up their efforts. His grandson also strove +to take him out, speaking to him more earnestly than the servants +would do, but it was of no avail. Peregrine, indeed, gave up the +attempt sooner, for to him his grandfather did in some sort confess +his own weakness. "I have had a blow," said he; "Peregrine, I have +had a blow. I am too old to bear up against it;—too old and too +weak." Peregrine knew that he alluded in some way to that proposed +marriage, but he was quite in the dark as to the manner in which his +grandfather had been affected by it.</p> + +<p>"People think nothing of that now, sir," said he, groping in the dark +as he strove to administer consolation.</p> + +<p>"People will think of it;—and I think of it. But never mind, my boy. +I have lived my life, and am contented with it. I have lived my life, +and have great joy that such as you are left behind to take my place. +If I had really injured you I should have broken my heart—have +broken my heart."</p> + +<p>Peregrine of course assured him that let what would come to him the +pride which he had in his grandfather would always support him. "I +don't know anybody else that I could be so proud of," said Peregrine; +"for nobody else that I see thinks so much about other people. And I +always was, even when I didn't seem to think much about it;—always."</p> + +<p>Poor Peregrine! Circumstances had somewhat altered him since that +day, now not more than six months ago, in which he had pledged +himself to abandon the delights of Cowcross Street. As long as there +was a hope for him with Madeline Staveley all this might be very +well. He preferred Madeline to Cowcross Street with all its delights. +But when there should be no longer any hope—and indeed, as things +went now, there was but little ground for hoping—what then? Might it +not be that his trial had come on him too early in life, and that he +would solace himself in his disappointment, if not with Carroty Bob, +with companionships and pursuits which would be as objectionable, and +perhaps more expensive?</p> + +<p>On three or four occasions his grandfather asked him how things were +going at Noningsby, striving to interest himself in something as to +which the outlook was not altogether dismal, and by degrees +learned,—not exactly all the truth—but as much of the truth as +Peregrine knew.</p> + +<p>"Do as she tells you," said the grandfather, referring to Lady +Staveley's last words.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must," said Peregrine, sadly. "There's nothing else for +it. But if there's anything that I hate in this world, it's waiting."</p> + +<p>"You are both very young," said his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"Yes; we are what people call young, I suppose. But I don't +understand all that. Why isn't a fellow to be happy when he's young +as well as when he's old?"</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine did not answer him, but no doubt thought that he might +alter his opinion in a few years. There is great doubt as to what may +be the most enviable time of life with a man. I am inclined to think +that it is at that period when his children have all been born but +have not yet began to go astray or to vex him with disappointment; +when his own pecuniary prospects are settled, and he knows pretty +well what his tether will allow him; when the appetite is still good +and the digestive organs at their full power; when he has ceased to +care as to the length of his girdle, and before the doctor warns him +against solid breakfasts and port wine after dinner; when his +affectations are over and his infirmities have not yet come upon him; +while he can still walk his ten miles, and feel some little pride in +being able to do so; while he has still nerve to ride his horse to +hounds, and can look with some scorn on the ignorance of younger men +who have hardly yet learned that noble art. As regards men, this, I +think, is the happiest time of life; but who shall answer the +question as regards women? In this respect their lot is more liable +to disappointment. With the choicest flowers that blow the sweetest +aroma of their perfection lasts but for a moment. The hour that sees +them at their fullest glory sees also the beginning of their fall.</p> + +<p>On one morning before the trial Sir Peregrine rang his bell and +requested that Mr. Peregrine might be asked to come to him. Mr. +Peregrine was out at the moment, and did not make his appearance much +before dark, but the baronet had fully resolved upon having this +interview, and ordered that the dinner should be put back for half an +hour. "Tell Mrs. Orme, with my compliments," he said, "that if it +does not put her to inconvenience we will not dine till seven." It +put Mrs. Orme to no inconvenience; but I am inclined to agree with +the cook, who remarked that the compliments ought to have been sent +to her.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Peregrine," he said, when his grandson entered his room +with his thick boots and muddy gaiters. "I have been thinking of +something."</p> + +<p>"I and Samson have been cutting down trees all day," said Peregrine. +"You've no conception how the water lies down in the bottom there; +and there's a fall every yard down to the river. It's a sin not to +drain it."</p> + +<p>"Any sins of that kind, my boy, shall lie on your own head for the +future. I will wash my hands of them."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go to work at once," said Peregrine, not quite +understanding his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"You must go to work on more than that, Peregrine." And then the old +man paused. "You must not think that I am doing this because I am +unhappy for the hour, or that I shall repent it when the moment has +gone by."</p> + +<p>"Doing what?" asked Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"I have thought much of it, and I know that I am right. I cannot get +out as I used to do, and do not care to meet people about business."</p> + +<p>"I never knew you more clear-headed in my life, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps not. We'll say nothing about that. What I intend to +do is this;—to give up the property into your hands at Lady-day. You +shall be master of The Cleeve from that time forth."</p> + +<p>"Sir?"</p> + +<p>"The truth is, you desire employment, and I don't. The property is +small, and therefore wants the more looking after. I have never had a +regular land steward, but have seen to that myself. If you'll take my +advice you'll do the same. There is no better employment for a +gentleman. So now, my boy, you may go to work and drain wherever you +like. About that Crutchley bottom I have no doubt you're right. I +don't know why it has been neglected." These last words the baronet +uttered in a weak, melancholy tone, asking, as it were, forgiveness +for his fault; whereas he had spoken out the purport of his great +resolution with a clear, strong voice, as though the saying of the +words pleased him well.</p> + +<p>"I could not hear of such a thing as that," said his grandson, after +a short pause.</p> + +<p>"But you have heard it, Perry, and you may be quite sure that I +should not have named it had I not fully resolved upon it. I have +been thinking of it for days, and have quite made up my mind. You +won't turn me out of the house, I know."</p> + +<p>"All the same, I will not hear of it," said the young man, stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Peregrine!"</p> + +<p>"I know very well what it all means, sir, and I am not at all +astonished. You have wished to do something out of sheer goodness of +heart, and you have been balked."</p> + +<p>"We will not talk about that, Peregrine."</p> + +<p>"But I must say a few words about it. All that has made you unhappy, +and—and—<span class="nowrap">and—"</span> He +wanted to explain that his grandfather was +ashamed of his baffled attempt, and for that reason was cowed and +down at heart at the present moment; but that in the three or four +months when this trial would be over and the wonder passed away, all +that would be forgotten, and he would be again as well as ever. But +Peregrine, though he understood all this, was hardly able to express +himself.</p> + +<p>"My boy," said the old man, "I know very well what you mean. What you +say is partly true, and partly not quite true. Some day, perhaps, +when we are sitting here together over the fire, I shall be better +able to talk over all this; but not now, Perry. God has been very +good to me, and given me so much that I will not repine at this +sorrow. I have lived my life, and am content."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, of course all that's true enough. And if God should choose +that you should—die, you know, or I either, some people would be +sorry, but we shouldn't complain ourselves. But what I say is this: +you should never give up as long as you live. There's a sort of +feeling about it which I can't explain. One should always say to +oneself, No surrender." And Peregrine, as he spoke, stood up from his +chair, thrust his hands into his trouser-pockets, and shook his head.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill59" id="ill59"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill59.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill59-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"No Surrender."' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"No Surrender."<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill59.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>Sir Peregrine smiled as he answered him. "But Perry, my boy, we can't +always say that. When the heart and the spirit and the body have all +surrendered, why should the voice tell a foolish falsehood?"</p> + +<p>"But it shouldn't be a falsehood," said Peregrine. "Nobody should +ever knock under of his own accord."</p> + +<p>"You are quite right there, my boy; you are quite right there. Stick +to that yourself. But, remember, that you are not to knock under to +any of your enemies. The worst that you will meet with are folly, and +vice, and extravagance."</p> + +<p>"That's of course," said Peregrine, by no means wishing on the +present occasion to bring under discussion his future contests with +any such enemies as those now named by his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"And now, suppose you dress for dinner," said the baronet. "I've got +ahead of you there you see. What I've told you to-day I have already +told your mother."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she doesn't think you right."</p> + +<p>"If she thinks me wrong, she is too kind and well-behaved to say +so,—which is more than I can say for her son. Your mother, Perry, +never told me that I was wrong yet, though she has had many +occasions;—too many, too many. But, come, go and dress for dinner."</p> + +<p>"You are wrong in this, sir, if ever you were wrong in your life," +said Peregrine, leaving the room. His grandfather did not answer him +again, but followed him out of the door, and walked briskly across +the hall into the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"There's Peregrine been lecturing me about draining," he said to his +daughter-in-law, striving to speak in a half-bantering tone of voice, +as though things were going well with him.</p> + +<p>"Lecturing you!" said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"And he's right, too. There's nothing like it. He'll make a better +farmer, I take it, than Lucius Mason. You'll live to see him know the +value of an acre of land as well as any man in the county. It's the +very thing that he's fit for. He'll do better with the property than +ever I did."</p> + +<p>There was something beautiful in the effort which the old man was +making when watched by the eyes of one who knew him as well as did +his daughter-in-law. She knew him, and understood all the workings of +his mind, and the deep sorrow of his heart. In very truth, the star +of his life was going out darkly under a cloud; but he was battling +against his sorrow and shame—not that he might be rid of them +himself, but that others might not have to share them. That doctrine +of "No surrender" was strong within his bosom, and he understood the +motto in a finer sense than that in which his grandson had used it. +He would not tell them that his heart was broken,—not if he could +help it. He would not display his wound if it might be in his power +to hide it. He would not confess that lands, and houses, and +seignorial functions were no longer of value in his eyes. As far as +might be possible he would bear his own load till that and the memory +of his last folly might be hidden together in the grave.</p> + +<p>But he knew that he was no longer fit for a man's work, and that it +would be well that he should abandon it. He had made a terrible +mistake. In his old age he had gambled for a large stake, and had +lost it all. He had ventured to love;—to increase the small number +of those who were nearest and dearest to him, to add one to those +whom he regarded as best and purest,—and he had been terribly +deceived. He had for many years almost worshipped the one lady who +had sat at his table, and now in his old age he had asked her to +share her place of honour with another. What that other was need not +now be told. And the world knew that this woman was to have been his +wife! He had boasted loudly that he would give her that place and +those rights. He had ventured his all upon her innocence and her +purity. He had ventured his all,—and he had lost.</p> + +<p>I do not say that on this account there was any need that he should +be stricken to the ground,—that it behoved him as a man of high +feeling to be broken-hearted. He would have been a greater man had he +possessed the power to bear up against all this, and to go forth to +the world bearing his burden bravely on his shoulders. But Sir +Peregrine Orme was not a great man, and possessed few or none of the +elements of greatness. He was a man of a singularly pure mind, and +endowed with a strong feeling of chivalry. It had been everything to +him to be spoken of by the world as a man free from reproach,—who +had lived with clean hands and with clean people around him. All +manner of delinquencies he could forgive in his dependents which did +not tell of absolute baseness; but it would have half killed him had +he ever learned that those he loved had become false or fraudulent. +When his grandson had come to trouble about the rats, he had acted, +not over-cleverly, a certain amount of paternal anger; but had +Peregrine broken his promise to him, no acting would have been +necessary. It may therefore be imagined what were now his feelings as +to Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>Her he could forgive for deceiving him. He had told his +daughter-in-law that he would forgive her; and it was a thing done. +But he could not forgive himself in that he had been deceived. He +could not forgive himself for having mingled with the sweet current +of his Edith's life the foul waters of that criminal tragedy. He +could not now bid her desert Lady Mason: for was it not true that the +woman's wickedness was known to them two, through her resolve not to +injure those who had befriended her? But all this made the matter +worse rather than better to him. It is all very well to say, "No +surrender;" but when the load placed upon the back is too heavy to be +borne, the back must break or bend beneath it.</p> + +<p>His load was too heavy to be borne, and therefore he said to himself +that he would put it down. He would not again see Lord Alston and the +old friends of former days. He would attend no more at the +magistrates' bench, but would send his grandson out into his place. +For the few days that remained to him in this world, he might be well +contented to abandon the turmoils and troubles of life. "It will not +be for long," he said to himself over and over again. And then he +would sit in his arm-chair for hours, intending to turn his mind to +such solemn thoughts as might befit a dying man. But, as he sat +there, he would still think of Lady Mason. He would remember her as +she had leaned against his breast on that day that he kissed her; and +then he would remember her as she was when she spoke those horrid +words to him—"Yes; I did it; at night, when I was alone." And this +was the woman whom he had loved! This was the woman whom he still +loved,—if all the truth might be confessed.</p> + +<p>His grandson, though he read much of his grandfather's mind, had +failed to read it all. He did not know how often Sir Peregrine +repeated to himself those words, "No Surrender," or how gallantly he +strove to live up to them. Lands and money and seats of honour he +would surrender, as a man surrenders his tools when he has done his +work; but his tone of feeling and his principle he would not +surrender, though the maintenance of them should crush him with their +weight. The woman had been very vile, desperately false, wicked +beyond belief, with premeditated villany, for years and years;—and +this was the woman whom he had wished to make the bosom companion of +his latter days!</p> + +<p>"Samson is happy now, I suppose, that he has got the axe in his +hand," he said to his grandson.</p> + +<p>"Pretty well for that, sir, I think."</p> + +<p>"That man will cut down every tree about the place, if you'll let +him." And in that way he strove to talk about the affairs of the +property.</p> + + +<p><a name="c60" id="c60"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LX.</h4> +<h3>WHAT REBEKAH DID FOR HER SON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Every day Mrs. Orme went up to Orley Farm and sat for two hours with +Lady Mason. We may say that there was now no longer any secret +between them, and that she whose life had been so innocent, so pure, +and so good, could look into the inmost heart and soul of that other +woman whose career had been supported by the proceeds of one terrible +life-long iniquity. And now, by degrees, Lady Mason would begin to +plead for herself, or rather, to put in a plea for the deed she had +done, acknowledging, however, that she, the doer of it, had fallen +almost below forgiveness through the crime. "Was he not his son as +much as that other one; and had I not deserved of him that he should +do this thing for me?" And again "Never once did I ask of him any +favour for myself from the day that I gave myself to him, because he +had been good to my father and mother. Up to the very hour of his +death I never asked him to spend a shilling on my own account. But I +asked him to do this thing for his child; and when at last he refused +me, I told him that I myself would cause it to be done."</p> + +<p>"You told him so?"</p> + +<p>"I did; and I think that he believed me. He knew that I was one who +would act up to my word. I told him that Orley Farm should belong to +our babe."</p> + +<p>"And what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"He bade me beware of my soul. My answer was very terrible, and I +will not shock you with it. Ah me! it is easy to talk of repentance, +but repentance will not come with a word."</p> + +<p>In these days Mrs. Orme became gradually aware that hitherto she had +comprehended but little of Lady Mason's character. There was a power +of endurance about her, and a courage that was almost awful to the +mind of the weaker, softer, and better woman. Lady Mason, during her +sojourn at The Cleeve, had seemed almost to sink under her +misfortune; nor had there been any hypocrisy, any pretence in her +apparent misery. She had been very wretched;—as wretched a human +creature, we may say, as any crawling God's earth at that time. But +she had borne her load, and, bearing it, had gone about her work, +still striving with desperate courage as the ground on which she trod +continued to give way beneath her feet, inch by inch. They had known +and pitied her misery; they had loved her for misery—as it is in the +nature of such people to do;—but they had little known how great had +been the cause for it. They had sympathised with the female weakness +which had succumbed when there was hardly any necessity for +succumbing. Had they then known all, they would have wondered at the +strength which made a struggle possible under such circumstances.</p> + +<p>Even now she would not yield. I have said that there had been no +hypocrisy in her misery during those weeks last past; and I have said +so truly. But there had perhaps been some pretences, some acting of a +part, some almost necessary pretence as to her weakness. Was she not +bound to account to those around her for her great sorrow? And was it +not above all things needful that she should enlist their sympathy +and obtain their aid? She had been obliged to cry to them for help, +though obliged also to confess that there was little reason for such +crying. "I am a woman, and weak," she had said, "and therefore cannot +walk alone, now that the way is stony." But what had been the truth +with her? How would she have cried, had it been possible for her to +utter the sharp cry of her heart? The waters had been closing over +her head, and she had clutched at a hand to save her; but the owner +of that hand might not know how imminent, how close was the danger.</p> + +<p>But in these days, as she sat in her own room with Mrs. Orme, the +owner of that hand might know everything. The secret had been told, +and there was no longer need for pretence. As she could now expose to +view the whole load of her wretchedness, so also could she make known +the strength that was still left for endurance. And these two women +who had become endeared to each other under such terrible +circumstances, came together at these meetings with more of the +equality of friendship than had ever existed at The Cleeve. It may +seem strange that it should be so—strange that the acknowledged +forger of her husband's will should be able to maintain a better +claim for equal friendship than the lady who was believed to be +innocent and true! But it was so. Now she stood on true ground;—now, +as she sat there with Mrs. Orme, she could speak from her heart, +pouring forth the real workings of her mind. From Mrs. Orme she had +no longer aught to fear; nor from Sir Peregrine. Everything was known +to them, and she could now tell of every incident of her crime with +an outspoken boldness that in itself was incompatible with the humble +bearing of an inferior in the presence of one above her.</p> + +<p>And she did still hope. The one point to be gained was this; that her +son, her only son, the child on whose behalf this crime had been +committed, should never know her shame, or live to be disgraced by +her guilt. If she could be punished, she would say, and he left in +ignorance of her punishment, she would not care what indignities they +might heap upon her. She had heard of penal servitude, of years, +terribly long, passed in all the misery of vile companionship; of +solitary confinement, and the dull madness which it engenders; of all +the terrors of a life spent under circumstances bearable only by the +uneducated, the rude, and the vile. But all this was as nothing to +her compared with the loss of honour to her son. "I should live," she +would say; "but he would die. You cannot ask me to become his +murderer!"</p> + +<p>It was on this point that they differed always. Mrs. Orme would have +had her confess everything to Lucius, and strove to make her +understand that if he were so told, the blow would fall less heavily +than it would do if the knowledge came to him from her conviction at +the trial. But the mother would not bring herself to believe that it +was absolutely necessary that he should ever know it. "There was the +property! Yes; but let the trial come, and if she were acquitted, +then let some arrangement be made about that. The lawyers might find +out some cause why it should be surrendered." But Mrs. Orme feared +that if the trial were over, and the criminal saved from justice, the +property would not be surrendered. And then how would that wish of +repentance be possible? After all was not that the one thing +necessary?</p> + +<p>I will not say that Mrs. Orme in these days ever regretted that her +sympathy and friendship had been thus bestowed, but she frequently +acknowledged to herself that the position was too difficult for her. +There was no one whose assistance she could ask; for she felt that +she could not in this matter ask counsel from Sir Peregrine. She +herself was good, and pure, and straightminded, and simple in her +perception of right and wrong; but Lady Mason was greater than she in +force of character,—a stronger woman in every way, endowed with more +force of will, with more power of mind, with greater energy, and a +swifter flow of words. Sometimes she almost thought it would be +better that she should stay away from Orley Farm; but then she had +promised to be true to her wretched friend, and the mother's +solicitude for her son still softened the mother's heart.</p> + +<p>In these days, till the evening came, Lucius Mason never made his way +into his mother's sitting-room, which indeed was the drawing-room of +the house,—and he and Mrs. Orme, as a rule, hardly ever met each +other. If he saw her as she entered or left the place, he would lift +his hat to her and pass by without speaking. He was not admitted to +those councils of his mother's, and would not submit to ask after his +mother's welfare or to inquire as to her affairs from a stranger. On +no other subject was it possible that he should now speak to the +daily visitor and the only visitor at Orley Farm. All this Mrs. Orme +understood, and saw that the young man was alone and comfortless. He +passed his hours below, in his own room, and twice a day his mother +found him in the parlour, and then they sat through their silent, +miserable meals. She would then leave him, always saying some soft +words of motherly love, and putting her hand either upon his shoulder +or his arm. On such occasions he was never rough to her, but he would +never respond to her caress. She had ill-treated him, preferring in +her trouble the assistance of a stranger to his assistance. She would +ask him neither for his money nor his counsel, and as she had thus +chosen to stand aloof from him, he also would stand aloof from her. +Not for always,—as he said to himself over and over again; for his +heart misgave him when he saw the lines of care so plainly written on +his mother's brow. Not for always should it be so. The day of the +trial would soon be present, and the day of the trial would soon be +over; then again would they be friends. Poor young man! Unfortunate +young man!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme saw all this, and to her it was very terrible. What would +be the world to her, if her boy should frown at her, and look black +when she caressed him? And she thought that it was the fault of the +mother rather than of the son; as indeed was not all that +wretchedness the mother's fault? But then again, there was the one +great difficulty. How could any step be taken in the right direction +till the whole truth had been confessed to him?</p> + +<p>The two women were sitting together in that up stairs room; and the +day of the trial was now not a full week distant from them, when Mrs. +Orme again tried to persuade the mother to intrust her son with the +burden of all her misery. On the preceding day Mr. Solomon Aram had +been down at Orley Farm, and had been with Lady Mason for an hour.</p> + +<p>"He knows the truth!" Lady Mason had said to her friend. "I am sure +of that."</p> + +<p>"But did he ask you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, he did not ask me that. He asked of little things that +happened at the time; but from his manner I am sure he knows it all. +He says—that I shall escape."</p> + +<p>"Did he say escape?"</p> + +<p>"No; not that word, but it was the same thing. He spoke to Lucius, +for I saw them on the lawn together."</p> + +<p>"You do not know what he said to him?"</p> + +<p>"No; for Lucius would not speak to me, and I could not ask him." And +then they both were silent, for Mrs. Orme was thinking how she could +bring about that matter that was so near her heart. Lady Mason was +seated in a large old-fashioned arm-chair, in which she now passed +nearly all her time. The table was by her side, but she rarely turned +herself to it. She sat leaning with her elbow on her arm, supporting +her face with her hand; and opposite to her, so close that she might +look into her face and watch every movement of her eyes, sat Mrs. +Orme,—intent upon that one thing, that the woman before her should +be brought to repent the evil she had done.</p> + +<p>"And you have not spoken to Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"No," she answered. "No more than I have told you. What could I say +to him about the man?"</p> + +<p>"Not about Mr. Aram. It might not be necessary to speak of him. He +has his work to do; and I suppose that he must do it in his own way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he must do it, in his own way. Lucius would not understand."</p> + +<p>"Unless you told him everything, of course he could not understand."</p> + +<p>"That is impossible."</p> + +<p>"No, Lady Mason, it is not impossible. Dear Lady Mason, do not turn +from me in that way. It is for your sake,—because I love you, that I +press you to do this. If he knew it +<span class="nowrap">all—"</span></p> + +<p>"Could you tell your son such a tale?" said Lady Mason, turning upon +her sharply, and speaking almost with an air of anger.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme was for a moment silenced, for she could not at once bring +herself to conceive it possible that she could be so circumstanced. +But at last she answered. "Yes," she said, "I think I could, if—." +And then she paused.</p> + +<p>"If you had done such a deed! Ah, you do not know, for the doing of +it would be impossible to you. You can never understand what was my +childhood, and how my young years were passed. I never loved anything +but him;—that is, till I knew you, +and—<span class="nowrap">and—."</span> But instead of +finishing her sentence she pointed down towards The Cleeve. "How, +then, can I tell him? Mrs. Orme, I would let them pull me to pieces, +bit by bit, if in that way I could save him."</p> + +<p>"Not in that way," said Mrs. Orme; "not in that way."</p> + +<p>But Lady Mason went on pouring forth the pent-up feelings of her +bosom, not regarding the faint words of her companion. "Till he lay +in my arms I had loved nothing. From my earliest years I had been +taught to love money, wealth, and property; but as to myself the +teachings had never come home to me. When they bade me marry the old +man because he was rich, I obeyed them,—not caring for his riches, +but knowing that it behoved me to relieve them of the burden of my +support. He was kinder to me than they had been, and I did for him +the best I could. But his money and his wealth were little to me. He +told me over and over again that when he died I should have the means +to live, and that was enough. I would not pretend to him that I cared +for the grandeur of his children who despised me. But then came my +baby, and the world was all altered for me. What could I do for the +only thing that I had ever called my own? Money and riches they had +told me were everything."</p> + +<p>"But they had told you wrong," said Mrs. Orme, as she wiped the tears +from her eyes.</p> + +<p>"They had told me falsely. I had heard nothing but falsehoods from my +youth upwards," she answered fiercely. "For myself I had not cared +for these things; but why should not he have money and riches and +land? His father had them to give over and above what had already +made those sons and daughters so rich and proud. Why should not this +other child also be his father's heir? Was he not as well born as +they? was he not as fair a child? What did Rebekah do, Mrs. Orme? Did +she not do worse; and did it not all go well with her? Why should my +boy be an Ishmael? Why should I be treated as the bondwoman, and see +my little one perish of thirst in this world's wilderness?"</p> + +<p>"No Saviour had lived and died for the world in those days," said +Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"And no Saviour had lived and died for me," said the wretched woman, +almost shrieking in her despair. The lines of her face were terrible +to be seen as she thus spoke, and an agony of anguish loaded her brow +upon which Mrs. Orme was frightened to look. She fell on her knees +before the wretched woman, and taking her by both her hands strove +all she could to find some comfort for her.</p> + +<p>"Ah, do not say so. Do not say that. Whatever may come, that +misery—that worst of miseries need not oppress you. If that indeed +were true!"</p> + +<p>"It was true;—and how should it be otherwise?"</p> + +<p>"But now,—now. It need not be true now. Lady Mason, for your soul's +sake say that it is so now."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Orme," she said, speaking with a singular quiescence of tone +after the violence of her last words, "it seems to me that I care +more for his soul than for my own. For myself I can bear even that. +But if he were a <span class="nowrap">castaway—!"</span></p> + +<p>I will not attempt to report the words that passed between them for +the next half-hour, for they concerned a matter which I may not dare +to handle too closely in such pages as these. But Mrs. Orme still +knelt there at her feet, pressing Lady Mason's hands, pressing +against her knees, as with all the eagerness of true affection she +endeavoured to bring her to a frame of mind that would admit of some +comfort. But it all ended in this:—Let everything be told to Lucius, +so that the first step back to honesty might be taken,—and then let +them trust to Him whose mercy can ever temper the wind to the shorn +lamb.</p> + +<p>But, as Lady Mason had once said to herself, repentance will not come +with a word. "I cannot tell him," she said at last. "It is a thing +impossible. I should die at his feet before the words were spoken."</p> + +<p>"I will do it for you," said Mrs. Orme, offering from pure charity to +take upon herself a task perhaps as heavy as any that a human +creature could perform. "I will tell him."</p> + +<p>"No, no," screamed Lady Mason, taking Mrs. Orme by both her arms as +she spoke. "You will not do so: say that you will not. Remember your +promise to me. Remember why it is that you know it all yourself."</p> + +<p>"I will not, surely, unless you bid me," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"No, no; I do not bid you. Mind, I do not bid you. I will not have it +done. Better anything than that, while it may yet be avoided. I have +your promise; have I not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; of course I should not do it unless you told me." And then, +after some further short stay, during which but little was said, Mrs. +Orme got up to go.</p> + +<p>"You will come to me to-morrow," said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Because I feared that I had offended you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; I will take no offence from you."</p> + +<p>"You should not, for you know what I have to bear. You know, and no +one else knows. Sir Peregrine does not know. He cannot understand. +But you know and understand it all. And, Mrs. Orme, what you do now +will be counted to you for great treasure,—for very great treasure. +You are better than the Samaritan, for he went on his way. But you +will stay till the last. Yes; I know you will stay." And the poor +creature kissed her only friend;—kissed her hands and her forehead +and her breast. Then Mrs. Orme went without speaking, for her heart +was full, and the words would not come to her; but as she went she +said to herself that she would stay till the last.</p> + +<p>Standing alone on the steps before the front door she found Lucius +Mason all alone, and some feeling moved her to speak a word to him as +she passed. "I hope all this does not trouble you much, Mr. Mason," +she said, offering her hand to him. She felt that her words were +hypocritical as she was speaking them; but under such circumstances +what else could she say to him?</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Orme, such an episode in one's family history does give +one some trouble. I am unhappy,—very unhappy; but not too much so to +thank you for your most unusual kindness to my poor mother." And +then, having been so far encouraged by her speaking to him, he +accompanied her round the house on to the lawn, from whence a path +led away through a shrubbery on to the road which would take her by +the village of Coldharbour to The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason," she said, as they walked for a few steps together before +the house, "do not suppose that I presume to interfere between you +and your mother."</p> + +<p>"You have a right to interfere now," he said.</p> + +<p>"But I think you might comfort her if you would be more with her. +Would it not be better if you could talk freely together about all +this?"</p> + +<p>"It would be better," he said; "but I fear that that is no longer +possible. When this trial is over, and the world knows that she is +innocent; when people shall see how cruelly she has been +<span class="nowrap">used—"</span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme might not tell the truth to him, but she could with +difficulty bear to hear him dwell thus confidently on hopes which +were so false. "The future is in the hands of God, Mr. Mason; but for +the <span class="nowrap">present—"</span></p> + +<p>"The present and the future are both in His hands, Mrs. Orme. I know +my mother's innocence, and would have done a son's part towards +establishing it;—but she would not allow me. All this will soon be +over now, and then, I trust, she and I will once again understand +each other. Till then I doubt whether I shall be wise to interfere. +Good morning, Mrs. Orme; and pray believe that I appreciate at its +full worth all that you are doing for her." Then he again lifted his +hat and left her.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason from her window saw them as they walked together, and her +heart for a moment misgave her. Could it be that her friend was +treacherous to her? Was it possible that even now she was telling +everything that she had sworn that she would not tell? Why were they +two together, seeing that they passed each other day by day without +intercourse? And so she watched with anxious eyes till they parted, +and then she saw that Lucius stood idly on the terrace swinging his +stick as he looked down the hill towards the orchard below him. He +would not have stood thus calmly had he already heard his mother's +shame. This she knew, and having laid aside her immediate fears she +retreated back to her chair. No; she would not tell him: at any rate +till the trial should be over.</p> + + +<p><a name="c61" id="c61"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXI.</h4> +<h3>THE STATE OF PUBLIC OPINION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The day of the trial was now quickly coming on, and the London world, +especially the world of lawyers, was beginning to talk much on the +subject. Men about the Inns of Court speculated as to the verdict, +offering to each other very confident opinions as to the result, and +offering, on some occasions, bets as well as opinions. The younger +world of barristers was clearly of opinion that Lady Mason was +innocent; but a portion, an unhappy portion, was inclined to fear, +that, in spite of her innocence, she would be found guilty. The elder +world of barristers was not, perhaps, so demonstrative, but in that +world the belief in her innocence was not so strong, and the fear of +her condemnation much stronger. The attorneys, as a rule, regarded +her as guilty. To the policeman's mind every man not a policeman is a +guilty being, and the attorneys perhaps share something of this +feeling. But the attorneys to a man expected to see her acquitted. +Great was their faith in Mr. Furnival; great their faith in Solomon +Aram; but greater than in all was their faith in Mr. Chaffanbrass. If +Mr. Chaffanbrass could not pull her through, with a prescription of +twenty years on her side, things must be very much altered indeed in +our English criminal court. To the outer world, that portion of the +world which had nothing to do with the administration of the law, the +idea of Lady Mason having been guilty seemed preposterous. Of course +she was innocent, and of course she would be found to be innocent. +And of course, also, that Joseph Mason of Groby Park was, and would +be found to be, the meanest, the lowest, the most rapacious of +mankind.</p> + +<p>And then the story of Sir Peregrine's attachment and proposed +marriage, joined as it was to various hints of the manner in which +that marriage had been broken off, lent a romance to the whole +affair, and added much to Lady Mason's popularity. Everybody had now +heard of it, and everybody was also aware, that though the idea of a +marriage had been abandoned, there had been no quarrel. The +friendship between the families was as close as ever, and Sir +Peregrine,—so it was understood—had pledged himself to an +acquittal. It was felt to be a public annoyance that an affair of so +exciting a nature should be allowed to come off in the little town of +Alston. The court-house, too, was very defective in its arrangements, +and ill qualified to give accommodation to the great body of would-be +attendants at the trial. One leading newspaper went so far as to +suggest, that in such a case as this, the antediluvian prejudices of +the British grandmother—meaning the Constitution—should be set +aside, and the trial should take place in London. But I am not aware +that any step was taken towards the carrying out of so desirable a +project.</p> + +<p>Down at Hamworth the feeling in favour of Lady Mason was not perhaps +so strong as it was elsewhere. Dockwrath was a man not much +respected, but nevertheless many believed in him; and down there, in +the streets of Hamworth, he was not slack in propagating his view of +the question. He had no doubt, he said, how the case would go. He had +no doubt, although he was well aware that Mr. Mason's own lawyers +would do all they could to throw over their own client. But he was +too strong, he said, even for that. The facts as he would bring them +forward would confound Round and Crook, and compel any jury to find a +verdict of guilty. I do not say that all Hamworth believed in +Dockwrath, but his energy and confidence did have its effect, and +Lady Mason's case was not upheld so strongly in her own neighbourhood +as elsewhere.</p> + +<p>The witnesses in these days were of course very important persons, +and could not but feel the weight of that attention which the world +would certainly pay to them. There would be four chief witnesses for +the prosecution; Dockwrath himself, who would be prepared to speak as +to the papers left behind him by old Usbech; the man in whose +possession now remained that deed respecting the partnership which +was in truth executed by old Sir Joseph on that fourteenth of July; +Bridget Bolster; and John Kenneby. Of the manner in which Mr. +Dockwrath used his position we already know enough. The man who held +the deed, one Torrington, was a relative of Martock, Sir Joseph's +partner, and had been one of his executors. It was not much indeed +that he had to say, but that little sent him up high in the social +scale during those days. He lived at Kennington, and he was asked out +to dinner in that neighbourhood every day for a week running, on the +score of his connection with the great Orley Farm case. Bridget +Bolster was still down at the hotel in the West of England, and being +of a solid, sensible, and somewhat unimaginative turn of mind, +probably went through her duties to the last without much change of +manner. But the effect of the coming scenes upon poor John Kenneby +was terrible. It was to him as though for the time they had made of +him an Atlas, and compelled him to bear on his weak shoulders the +weight of the whole world. Men did talk much about Lady Mason and the +coming trial; but to him it seemed as though men talked of nothing +else. At Hubbles and Grease's it was found useless to put figures +into his hands till all this should be over. Indeed it was doubted by +many whether he would ever recover his ordinary tone of mind. It +seemed to be understood that he would be cross-examined by +Chaffanbrass, and there were those who thought that John Kenneby +would never again be equal to a day's work after that which he would +then be made to endure. That he would have been greatly relieved +could the whole thing have been wiped away from him there can be no +manner of doubt; but I fancy that he would also have been +disappointed. It is much to be great for a day, even though the day's +greatness should cause the shipwreck of a whole life.</p> + +<p>"I shall endeavour to speak the truth," said John Kenneby, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," said +Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Moulder, that will be my endeavour; and then I may lay my hand +upon my bosom and think that I have done my duty by my country." And +as Kenneby spoke he suited the action to the word.</p> + +<p>"Quite right, John," said Mrs. Smiley. "Them's the sentiments of a +man, and I, as a woman having a right to speak where you are +concerned, quite approve of them."</p> + +<p>"They'll get nothing but the truth out of John," said Mrs. Moulder; +"not if he knows it." These last words she added, actuated by +admiration of what she had heard of Mr. Chaffanbrass, and perhaps +with some little doubt as to her brother's firmness.</p> + +<p>"That's where it is," said Moulder. "Lord bless you, John, they'll +turn you round their finger like a bit of red tape. Truth! Gammon! +What do they care for truth?"</p> + +<p>"But I care, Moulder," said Kenneby. "I don't suppose they can make +me tell falsehoods if I don't wish it."</p> + +<p>"Not if you're the man I take you to be," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder, that's an objectionable word," said Mrs. Smiley. "If +John Kenneby is the man I take him to be,—and who's a right to speak +if I haven't, seeing that I am going to commit myself for this world +into his hands?"—and Mrs. Smiley, as she spoke, simpered, and looked +down with averted head on the fulness of her Irish tabinet—"if he's +the man that I take him to be, he won't say on this thrilling +occasion no more than the truth, nor yet no less. Now that isn't +gammon—if I know what gammon is."</p> + +<p>It will have been already seen that the party in question were +assembled at Mr. Moulder's room in Great St. Helen's. There had been +a little supper party there to commemorate the final arrangements as +to the coming marriage, and the four were now sitting round the fire +with their glasses of hot toddy at their elbows. Moulder was armed +with his pipe, and was enjoying himself in that manner which most +delighted him. When last we saw him he had somewhat exceeded +discretion in his cups, and was not comfortable. But at the present +nothing ailed him. The supper had been good, the tobacco was good, +and the toddy was good. Therefore when the lovely Thais sitting +beside him,—Thais however on this occasion having been provided not +for himself but for his brother-in-law,—when Thais objected to the +use of his favourite word, he merely chuckled down in the bottom of +his fat throat, and allowed her to finish her sentence.</p> + +<p>Poor John Kenneby had more—much more, on his hands than this +dreadful trial. Since he had declared that the Adriatic was free to +wed another, he had found himself devoted and given up to Mrs. +Smiley. For some days after that auspicious evening there had been +considerable wrangling between Mrs. Moulder and Mrs. Smiley as to the +proceeds of the brick-field; and on this question Moulder himself had +taken a part. The Moulder interest had of course desired that all +right of management in the brick-field should be vested in the +husband, seeing that, according to the usages of this country, +brick-fields and their belongings appertain rather to men than to +women; but Mrs. Smiley had soon made it evident that she by no means +intended to be merely a sleeping partner in the firm. At one time +Kenneby had entertained a hope of escape; for neither would the +Moulder interest give way, nor would the Smiley. But two hundred a +year was a great stake, and at last the thing was arranged, very much +in accordance with the original Smiley view. And now at this most +trying period of his life, poor Kenneby had upon his mind all the +cares of a lover as well as the cares of a witness.</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best," said John. "I shall do my best and then throw +myself upon Providence."</p> + +<p>"And take a little drop of something comfortable in your pocket," +said his sister, "so as to sperrit you up a little when your name's +called."</p> + +<p>"Sperrit him up!" said Moulder; "why I suppose he'll be standing in +that box the best part of a day. I knowed a man was a witness; it was +a case of horse-stealing; and the man who was the witness was the man +who'd took the horse."</p> + +<p>"And he was witness against hisself!" said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"No; he'd paid for it. That is to say, either he had or he hadn't. +That was what they wanted to get out of him, and I'm blessed if he +didn't take 'em till the judge wouldn't set there any longer. And +then they hadn't got it out of him."</p> + +<p>"But John Kenneby ain't one of that sort," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"I suppose that man did not want to unbosom himself," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Well; no. The likes of him seldom do like to unbosom themselves," +said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"But that will be my desire. If they will only allow me to speak +freely whatever I know about this matter, I will give them no +trouble."</p> + +<p>"You mean to act honest, John," said his sister.</p> + +<p>"I always did, Mary Anne."</p> + +<p>"Well now, I'll tell you what it is," said Moulder. "As Mrs. Smiley +don't like it I won't say anything more about gammon;—not just at +present, that is."</p> + +<p>"I've no objection to gammon, Mr. Moulder, when properly used," said +Mrs. Smiley, "but I look on it as disrespectful; and seeing the +position which I hold as regards John Kenneby, anything disrespectful +to him is hurtful to my feelings."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Moulder. "And now, John, I'll just tell you what it +is. You've no more chance of being allowed to speak freely there +than—than—than—no more than if you was in church. What are them +fellows paid for if you're to say whatever you pleases out in your +own way?"</p> + +<p>"He only wants to say the truth, M.," said Mrs. Moulder, who probably +knew less than her husband of the general usages of courts of law.</p> + +<p>"Truth be ——," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder!" said Mrs. Smiley. "There's ladies by, if you'll please +to remember."</p> + +<p>"To hear such nonsense sets one past oneself," continued he; "as if +all those lawyers were brought together there—the cleverest and +sharpest fellows in the kingdom, mind you—to listen to a man like +John here telling his own story in his own way. You'll have to tell +your story in their way; that is, in two different ways. There'll be +one fellow'll make you tell it his way first, and another fellow'll +make you tell it again his way afterwards; and its odds but what the +first 'll be at you again after that, till you won't know whether you +stand on your heels or your head."</p> + +<p>"That can't be right," said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"And why can't it be right?" said Moulder. "They're paid for it; it's +their duties; just as it's my duty to sell Hubbles and Grease's +sugar. It's not for me to say the sugar's bad, or the samples not +equal to the last. My duty is to sell, and I sell;—and it's their +duty to get a verdict."</p> + +<p>"But the truth, Moulder—!" said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" said Moulder. "Begging your pardon, Mrs. Smiley, for making +use of the expression. Look you here, John; if you're paid to bring a +man off not guilty, won't you bring him off if you can? I've been at +trials times upon times, and listened till I've wished from the +bottom of my heart that I'd been brought up a barrister. Not that I +think much of myself, and I mean of course with education and all +that accordingly. It's beautiful to hear them. You'll see a little +fellow in a wig, and he'll get up; and there'll be a man in the box +before him,—some swell dressed up to his eyes, who thinks no end of +strong beer of himself; and in about ten minutes he'll be as flabby +as wet paper, and he'll say—on his oath, mind you,—just anything +that that little fellow wants him to say. That's power, mind you, and +I call it beautiful."</p> + +<p>"But it ain't justice," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"Why not? I say it is justice. You can have it if you choose to pay +for it, and so can I. If I buy a greatcoat against the winter, and +you go out at night without having one, is it injustice because +you're perished by the cold while I'm as warm as a toast. I say it's +a grand thing to live in a country where one can buy a greatcoat."</p> + +<p>The argument had got so far, Mr. Moulder certainly having the best of +it, when a ring at the outer door was heard.</p> + +<p>"Now who on earth is that?" said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Snengkeld, I shouldn't wonder," said his wife.</p> + +<p>"I hope it ain't no stranger," said Mrs. Smiley. "Situated as John +and I are now, strangers is so disagreeable." And then the door was +opened by the maid-servant, and Mr. Kantwise was shown into the room.</p> + +<p>"Halloo, Kantwise!" said Mr. Moulder, not rising from his chair, or +giving any very decided tokens of welcome. "I thought you were down +somewhere among the iron foundries?"</p> + +<p>"So I was, Mr. Moulder, but I came up yesterday. Mrs. Moulder, allow +me to have the honour. I hope I see you quite well; but looking at +you I need not ask. Mr. Kenneby, sir, your very humble servant. The +day's coming on fast; isn't it, Mr. Kenneby? Ma'am, your very +obedient. I believe I haven't the pleasure of being acquainted."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Smiley, Mr. Kantwise. Mr. Kantwise, Mrs. Smiley," said the lady +of the house, introducing her visitors to each other in the +appropriate way.</p> + +<p>"Quite delighted, I'm sure," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Smiley as is, and Kenneby as will be this day three weeks," said +Moulder; and then they all enjoyed that little joke, Mrs. Smiley by +no means appearing bashful in the matter although Mr. Kantwise was a +stranger.</p> + +<p>"I thought I should find Mr. Kenneby here," said Kantwise, when the +subject of the coming nuptials had been sufficiently discussed, "and +therefore I just stepped in. No intrusion, I hope, Mr. Moulder."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Moulder; "make yourself at home. There's the stuff +on the table. You know what the tap is."</p> + +<p>"I've just parted from—Mr. Dockwrath," said Kantwise, speaking in a +tone of voice which implied the great importance of the +communication, and looking round the table to see the effect of it +upon the circle.</p> + +<p>"Then you've parted from a very low-lived party, let me tell you +that," said Moulder. He had not forgotten Dockwrath's conduct in the +commercial room at Leeds, and was fully resolved that he never would +forgive it.</p> + +<p>"That's as may be," said Kantwise. "I say nothing on that subject at +the present moment, either one way or the other. But I think you'll +all agree as to this: that at the present moment Mr. Dockwrath fills +a conspicuous place in the public eye."</p> + +<p>"By no means so conspicuous as John Kenneby," said Mrs. Smiley, "if I +may be allowed in my position to hold an opinion."</p> + +<p>"That's as may be, ma'am. I say nothing about that. What I hold by +is, that Mr. Dockwrath does hold a conspicuous place in the public +eye. I've just parted with him in Gray's Inn Lane, and he says—that +it's all up now with Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" said Moulder. And on this occasion Mrs. Smiley did not +rebuke him. "What does he know about it more than any one else? Will +he bet two to one? Because, if so, I'll take it;—only I must see the +money down."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what he'll bet, Mr. Moulder; only he says it's all up +with her."</p> + +<p>"Will he back his side, even handed?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't a betting man, Mr. Moulder. I don't think it's right. And on +such a matter as this, touching the liberty and almost life of a lady +whom I've had the honour of seeing, and acquainted as I am with the +lady of the other party, Mrs. Mason that is of Groby Park, I should +rather, if it's no offence to you, decline the subject of—betting."</p> + +<p>"Bother!"</p> + +<p>"Now M., in your own house, you know!" said his wife.</p> + +<p>"So it is bother. But never mind that. Go on, Kantwise. What is this +you were saying about Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's about all. I thought you would like to know what they +were doing,—particularly Mr. Kenneby. I do hear that they mean to be +uncommonly hard upon him."</p> + +<p>The unfortunate witness shifted uneasily in his seat, but at the +moment said nothing himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, I can't understand it," said Mrs. Smiley, sitting upright +in her chair, and tackling herself to the discussion as though she +meant to express her opinion, let who might think differently. "How +is any one to put words into my mouth if I don't choose to speak +then? There's John's waistcoat is silk." Upon which they all looked +at Kenneby's waistcoat, and, with the exception of Kantwise, +acknowledged the truth of the assertion.</p> + +<p>"That's as may be," said he, looking round at it from the corner of +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"And do you mean to say that all the barristers in London will make +me say that it's made of cloth? It's ridic'lous—nothing short of +ridic'lous."</p> + +<p>"You've never tried, my dear," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't know about being your dear, Mr. Moulder—"</p> + +<p>"Nor yet don't I neither, Mrs. Smiley," said the wife.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kenneby's my dear, and I ain't ashamed to own him,—before men +and women. But if he allows hisself to be hocussed in that way, I +don't know but what I shall be ashamed. I call it hocussing—just +hocussing."</p> + +<p>"So it is, ma'am," said Kantwise, "only this, you know, if I hocus +you, why you hocus me in return; so it isn't so very unfair, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Unfair!" said Moulder. "It's the fairest thing that is. It's the +bulwark of the British Constitution."</p> + +<p>"What! being badgered and browbeat?" asked Kenneby, who was thinking +within himself that if this were so he did not care if he lived +somewhere beyond the protection of that blessed Ægis.</p> + +<p>"Trial by jury is," said Moulder. "And how can you have trial by jury +if the witnesses are not to be cross-questioned?"</p> + +<p>To this position no one was at the moment ready to give an answer, +and Mr. Moulder enjoyed a triumph over his audience. That he lived in +a happy and blessed country Moulder was well aware, and with those +blessings he did not wish any one to tamper. "Mother," said a +fastidious child to his parent, "the bread is gritty and the butter +tastes of turnips." "Turnips indeed,—and gritty!" said the mother. +"Is it not a great thing to have bread and butter at all?" I own that +my sympathies are with the child. Bread and butter is a great thing; +but I would have it of the best if that be possible.</p> + +<p>After that Mr. Kantwise was allowed to dilate upon the subject which +had brought him there. Mr. Dockwrath had been summoned to Bedford +Row, and there had held a council of war together with Mr. Joseph +Mason and Mr. Matthew Round. According to his own story Mr. Matthew +had quite come round and been forced to acknowledge all that +Dockwrath had done for the cause. In Bedford Row there was no doubt +whatever as to the verdict. "That woman Bolster is quite clear that +she only signed one deed," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"I shall say nothing—nothing here," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Quite right, John," said Mrs. Smiley. "Your feelings on the occasion +become you."</p> + +<p>"I'll lay an even bet she's acquitted," said Moulder. "And I'll do it +in a ten-p'und note."</p> + + +<p><a name="c62" id="c62"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXII.</h4> +<h3>WHAT THE FOUR LAWYERS THOUGHT ABOUT IT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>I have spoken of the state of public opinion as to Lady Mason's +coming trial, and have explained that for the most part men's +thoughts and sympathies took part with her. But I cannot say that +such was the case with the thoughts of those who were most closely +concerned with her in the matter,—whatever may have been their +sympathies. Of the state of Mr. Furnival's mind on the matter enough +has been said. But if he had still entertained any shadow of doubt as +to his client's guilt or innocence, none whatever was entertained +either by Mr. Aram or by Mr. Chaffanbrass. From the day on which they +had first gone into the real circumstances of the case, looking into +the evidence which could be adduced against their client, and looking +also to their means of rebutting that evidence, they had never felt a +shadow of doubt upon the subject. But yet neither of them had ever +said that she was guilty. Aram, in discussing with his clerks the +work which it was necessary that they should do in the matter, had +never expressed such an opinion; nor had Chaffanbrass done so in the +consultations which he had held with Aram. As to the verdict they had +very often expressed an opinion—differing considerably. Mr. Aram was +strongly of opinion that Lady Mason would be acquitted, resting that +opinion mainly on his great confidence in the powers of Mr. +Chaffanbrass. But Mr. Chaffanbrass would shake his head, and +sometimes say that things were not now as they used to be.</p> + +<p>"That may be so in the City," said Mr. Aram. "But you won't find a +City jury down at Alston."</p> + +<p>"It's not the juries, Aram. It's the judges. It usedn't to be so, +but it is now. When a man has the last word, and will take the +trouble to use it, that's everything. If I were asked what point I'd +best like to have in my favour I'd say, a deaf judge. Or if not that, +one regularly tired out. I've sometimes thought I'd like to be a +judge myself, merely to have the last word."</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't suit you at all, Mr. Chaffanbrass, for you'd be sick +of it in a week."</p> + +<p>"At any rate I'm not fit for it," said the great man meekly. "I'll +tell you what, Aram, I can look back on life and think that I've done +a deal of good in my way. I've prevented unnecessary bloodshed. I've +saved the country thousands of pounds in the maintenance of men +who've shown themselves well able to maintain themselves. And I've +made the Crown lawyers very careful as to what sort of evidence they +would send up to the Old Bailey. But my chances of life have been +such that they haven't made me fit to be a judge. I know that."</p> + +<p>"I wish I might see you on the bench to-morrow;—only that we +shouldn't know what to do without you," said the civil attorney. It +was no more than the fair every-day flattery of the world, for the +practice of Mr. Solomon Aram in his profession was quite as surely +attained as was that of Mr. Chaffanbrass. And it could hardly be +called flattery, for Mr. Solomon Aram much valued the services of Mr. +Chaffanbrass, and greatly appreciated the peculiar turn of that +gentleman's mind.</p> + +<p>The above conversation took place in Mr. Solomon Aram's private room +in Bucklersbury. In that much-noted city thoroughfare Mr. Aram rented +the first floor of a house over an eating establishment. He had no +great paraphernalia of books and boxes and clerks' desks, as are +apparently necessary to attorneys in general. Three clerks he did +employ, who sat in one room, and he himself sat in that behind it. So +at least they sat when they were to be found at the parent +establishment; but, as regarded the attorney himself and his senior +assistant, the work of their lives was carried on chiefly in the +courts of law. The room in which Mr. Aram was now sitting was +furnished with much more attention to comfort than is usual in +lawyers' chambers. Mr. Chaffanbrass was at present lying, with his +feet up, on a sofa against the wall, in a position of comfort never +attained by him elsewhere till the after-dinner hours had come to +him; and Mr. Aram himself filled an easy lounging-chair. Some few law +papers there were scattered on the library table, but none of those +piles of dusty documents which give to a stranger, on entering an +ordinary attorney's room, so terrible an idea of the difficulty and +dreariness of the profession. There were no tin boxes with old names +labelled on them; there were no piles of letters, and no pigeon-holes +loaded with old memoranda. On the whole Mr. Aram's private room was +smart and attractive; though, like himself, it had an air rather of +pretence than of steady and assured well-being.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill62" id="ill62"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill62.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill62-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Solomon Aram." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Solomon Aram.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill62.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>It is not quite the thing for a barrister to wait upon an attorney, +and therefore it must not be supposed that Mr. Chaffanbrass had come +to Mr. Aram with any view to immediate business; but nevertheless, as +the two men understood each other, they could say what they had to +say as to this case of Lady Mason's, although their present positions +were somewhat irregular. They were both to meet Mr. Furnival and +Felix Graham on that afternoon in Mr. Furnival's chambers with +reference to the division of those labours which were to be commenced +at Alston on the day but one following, and they both thought that it +might be as well that they should say a word to each other on the +subject before they went there.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know nothing about the panel down there, eh?" said +Chaffanbrass.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have made some inquiries; but I don't think there's anything +especial to know;—nothing that matters. If I were you, Mr. +Chaffanbrass, I wouldn't have any Hamworth people on the jury, for +they say that a prophet is never a prophet in his own country."</p> + +<p>"But do you know the Hamworth people?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I can tell you as much as that. But I don't think it will +matter much who is or is not on the jury."</p> + +<p>"And why not?"</p> + +<p>"If those two witnesses break down—that is, Kenneby and Bolster, no +jury can convict her. And if they +<span class="nowrap">don't—"</span></p> + +<p>"Then no jury can acquit her. But let me tell you, Aram, that it's +not every man put into a jury-box who can tell whether a witness has +broken down or not."</p> + +<p>"But from what I hear, Mr. Chaffanbrass, I don't think either of +these can stand a chance;—that is, if they both come into your +hands."</p> + +<p>"But they won't both come into my hands," said the anxious hero of +the Old Bailey.</p> + +<p>"Ah! that's where it is. That's where we shall fail. Mr. Furnival is +a great man, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"A very great man,—in his way," said Mr. Chaffanbrass.</p> + +<p>"But if he lets one of those two slip through his fingers the thing's +over."</p> + +<p>"You know my opinion," said Chaffanbrass. "I think it is all over. If +you're right in what you say,—that they're both ready to swear in +their direct evidence that they only signed one deed on that day, no +vacillation afterwards would have any effect on the judge. It's just +possible, you know, that their memory might deceive them."</p> + +<p>"Possible! I should think so. I'll tell you what, Mr. Chaffanbrass, +if the matter was altogether in your hands I should have no +fear,—literally no fear."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you're partial, Aram."</p> + +<p>"It couldn't be so managed, could it, Mr. Chaffanbrass? It would be a +great thing; a very great thing." But Mr. Chaffanbrass said that he +thought it could not be managed. The success or safety of a client is +a very great thing;—in a professional point of view a very great +thing indeed. But there is a matter which in legal eyes is greater +even than that. Professional etiquette required that the +cross-examination of these two most important witnesses should not be +left in the hands of the same barrister.</p> + +<p>And then the special attributes of Kenneby and Bridget Bolster were +discussed between them, and it was manifest that Aram knew with great +accuracy the characters of the persons with whom he had to deal. That +Kenneby might be made to say almost anything was taken for granted. +With him there would be very great scope for that peculiar skill with +which Mr. Chaffanbrass was so wonderfully gifted. In the hands of Mr. +Chaffanbrass it was not improbable that Kenneby might be made to +swear that he had signed two, three, four—any number of documents on +that fourteenth of July, although he had before sworn that he had +only signed one. Mr. Chaffanbrass indeed might probably make him say +anything that he pleased. Had Kenneby been unsupported the case would +have been made safe,—so said Mr. Solomon Aram,—by leaving Kenneby +in the hands of Mr. Chaffanbrass. But then Bridget Bolster was +supposed to be a witness of altogether a different class of +character. To induce her to say exactly the reverse of that which she +intended to say might, no doubt, be within the power of man. Mr. Aram +thought that it would be within the power of Mr. Chaffanbrass. He +thought, however, that it would as certainly be beyond the power of +Mr. Furnival; and when the great man lying on the sofa mentioned the +name of Mr. Felix Graham, Mr. Aram merely smiled. The question with +him was this:—Which would be the safest course?—to make quite sure +of Kenneby by leaving him with Chaffanbrass; or to go for the double +stake by handing Kenneby over to Mr. Furnival and leaving the task of +difficulty to the great master?</p> + +<p>"When so much depends upon it, I do detest all this etiquette and +precedence," said Aram with enthusiasm. "In such a case Mr. Furnival +ought not to think of himself."</p> + +<p>"My dear Aram," said Mr. Chaffanbrass, "men always think of +themselves first. And if we were to go out of the usual course, do +you conceive that the gentlemen on the other side would fail to +notice it?"</p> + +<p>"Which shall it be then?"</p> + +<p>"I'm quite indifferent. If the memory of either of these two persons +is doubtful,—and after twenty years it may be so,—Mr. Furnival will +discover it."</p> + +<p>"Then on the whole I'm disposed to think that I'd let him take the +man."</p> + +<p>"Just as you please, Aram. That is, if he's satisfied also."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to have my client overthrown, you know," said Aram. +"And then you'll take Dockwrath also, of course. I don't know that it +will have much effect upon the case, but I shall like to see +Dockwrath in your hands; I shall indeed."</p> + +<p>"I doubt he'll be too many for me."</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha!" Aram might well laugh; for when had any one shown +himself able to withstand the powers of Mr. Chaffanbrass?</p> + +<p>"They say he is a sharp fellow," said Mr. Chaffanbrass. "Well, we +must be off. When those gentlemen at the West End get into Parliament +it does not do to keep them waiting. Let one of your fellows get a +cab." And then the barrister and the attorney started from +Bucklersbury for the general meeting of their forces to be held in +the Old Square, Lincoln's Inn.</p> + +<p>We have heard how it came to pass that Felix Graham had been induced +to become one of that legal phalanx which was employed on behalf of +Lady Mason. It was now some days since he had left Noningsby, and +those days with him had been very busy. He had never yet undertaken +the defence of a person in a criminal court, and had much to +learn,—or perhaps he rather fancied that he had. And then that +affair of Mary Snow's new lover was not found to arrange itself +altogether easily. When he came to the details of his dealings with +the different parties, every one wanted from him twice as much money +as he had expected. The chemist was very willing to have a partner, +but then a partnership in his business was, according to his view of +the matter, a peculiarly expensive luxury. Snow père, moreover, came +forward with claims which he rested on various arguments, that Graham +found it almost impossible to resist them. At first,—that is +immediately subsequent to the interview between him and his patron +described in a preceding chapter, Graham had been visited by a very +repulsive attorney who had talked loudly about the cruel wrongs of +his ill-used client. This phasis of the affair would have been by far +the preferable one; but the attorney and his client probably +disagreed. Snow wanted immediate money, and as no immediate money was +forthcoming through the attorney, he threw himself repentant at +Graham's feet, and took himself off with twenty shillings. But his +penitence, and his wants, and his tears, and the thwarted ambition of +his parental mind were endless; and poor Felix hardly knew where to +turn himself without seeing him. It seemed probable that every +denizen of the courts of law in London would be told before long the +sad tale of Mary Snow's injuries. And then Mrs. Thomas wanted +money,—more money than she had a right to want in accordance with +the terms of their mutual agreement. "She had been very much put +about," she said,—"dreadfully put about. She had had to change her +servant three times. There was no knowing the trouble Mary Snow had +given her. She had, in a great measure, been forced to sacrifice her +school." Poor woman! she thought she was telling the truth while +making these false plaints. She did not mean to be dishonest, but it +is so easy to be dishonest without meaning it when one is very poor! +Mary Snow herself made no claim on her lost lover, no claim for money +or for aught besides. When he parted from her on that day without +kissing her, Mary Snow knew that all that was over. But not the less +did Graham recognise her claim. The very bonnet which she must wear +when she stood before the altar with Fitzallen must be paid for out +of Graham's pocket. That hobby of moulding a young lady is perhaps of +all hobbies the most expensive to which a young gentleman can apply +himself.</p> + +<p>And in these days he heard no word from Noningsby. Augustus Staveley +was up in town, and once or twice they saw each other. But, as may +easily be imagined, nothing was said between them about Madeline. As +Augustus had once declared, a man does not talk to his friend about +his own sister. And then hearing nothing—as indeed how could he have +heard anything?—Graham endeavoured to assure himself that that was +all over. His hopes had ran high at that moment when his last +interview with the judge had taken place; but after all to what did +that amount? He had never even asked Madeline to love him. He had +been such a fool that he had made no use of those opportunities which +chance had thrown in his way. He had been told that he might fairly +aspire to the hand of any lady. And yet when he had really loved, and +the girl whom he had loved had been close to him, he had not dared to +speak to her! How could he now expect that she, in his absence, +should care for him?</p> + +<p>With all these little troubles around him he went to work on Lady +Mason's case, and at first felt thoroughly well inclined to give her +all the aid in his power. He saw Mr. Furnival on different occasions, +and did much to charm that gentleman by his enthusiasm in this +matter. Mr. Furnival himself could no longer be as enthusiastic as he +had been. The skill of a lawyer he would still give if necessary, but +the ardour of the loving friend was waxing colder from day to day. +Would it not be better, if such might be possible, that the whole +affair should be given up to the hands of Chaffanbrass who could be +energetic without belief, and of Graham who was energetic because he +believed? So he would say to himself frequently. But then he would +think again of her pale face and acknowledge that this was +impossible. He must go on till the end. But, nevertheless, if this +young man could believe, would it not be well that he should bear the +brunt of the battle? That fighting of a battle without belief is, I +think, the sorriest task which ever falls to the lot of any man.</p> + +<p>But, as the day grew nigh, a shadow of unbelief, a dim passing +shade—a shade which would pass, and then return, and then pass +again—flitted also across the mind of Felix Graham. His theory had +been, and still was, that those two witnesses, Kenneby and Bolster, +were suborned by Dockwrath to swear falsely. He had commenced by +looking at the matter with a full confidence in his client's +innocence, a confidence which had come from the outer world, from his +social convictions, and the knowledge which he had of the confidence +of others. Then it had been necessary for him to reconcile the +stories which Kenneby and Bolster were prepared to tell with this +strong confidence, and he could only do so by believing that they +were both false and had been thus suborned. But what if they were not +false? What if he were judging them wrongfully? I do not say that he +had ceased to believe in Lady Mason; but a shadow of doubt would +occasionally cross his mind, and give to the whole affair an aspect +which to him was very tragical.</p> + +<p>He had reached Mr. Furnival's chambers on this day some few minutes +before his new allies, and as he was seated there discussing the +matter which was now so interesting to them all, he blurted out a +question which nearly confounded the elder barrister.</p> + +<p>"I suppose there can really be no doubt as to her innocence?"</p> + +<p>What was Mr. Furnival to say? Mr. Chaffanbrass and Mr. Aram had asked +no such question. Mr. Round had asked no such question when he had +discussed the whole matter confidentially with him. It was a sort of +question never put to professional men, and one which Felix Graham +should not have asked. Nevertheless it must be answered.</p> + +<p>"Eh?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we may take it for granted that Lady Mason is really +innocent,—that is, free from all falsehood or fraud in this matter?"</p> + +<p>"Really innocent! Oh yes; I presume we take that for granted, as a +matter of course."</p> + +<p>"But you yourself, Mr. Furnival; you have no doubt about it? You have +been concerned in this matter from the beginning, and therefore I +have no hesitation in asking you."</p> + +<p>But that was exactly the reason why he should have hesitated! At +least so Mr. Furnival thought. "Who; I? No; I have no doubt; none in +the least," said he. And thus the lie, which he had been trying to +avoid, was at last told.</p> + +<p>The assurance thus given was very complete as far as the words were +concerned; but there was something in the tone of Mr. Furnival's +voice, which did not quite satisfy Felix Graham. It was not that he +thought that Mr. Furnival had spoken falsely, but the answer had not +been made in a manner to set his own mind at rest. Why had not Mr. +Furnival answered him with enthusiasm? Why had he not, on behalf of +his old friend, shown something like indignation that any such doubt +should have been expressed? His words had been words of assurance; +but, considering the subject, his tone had contained no assurance. +And thus the shadow of doubt flitted backwards and forwards before +Graham's mind.</p> + +<p>Then the general meeting of the four lawyers was held, and the +various arrangements necessary for the coming contest were settled. +No such impertinent questions were asked then, nor were there any +communications between them of a confidential nature. Mr. +Chaffanbrass and Solomon Aram might whisper together, as might also +Mr. Furnival and Felix Graham; but there could be no whispering when +all the four were assembled. The programme of their battle was +settled, and then they parted with the understanding that they were +to meet again in the court-house at Alston.</p> + + +<p><a name="c63" id="c63"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXIII.</h4> +<h3>THE EVENING BEFORE THE TRIAL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>The eve of the trial had now come, and still there had been no +confidence between the mother and the son. No words of kindness had +been spoken with reference to that terrible event which was so near +at hand. Lucius had in his manner been courteous to his mother, but +he had at the same time been very stern. He had seemed to make no +allowance for her sorrows, never saying to her one of those soft +words which we all love to hear from those around us when we are +suffering. Why should she suffer thus? Had she chosen to lean upon +him, he would have borne on her behalf all this trouble and vexation. +As to her being guilty—as to her being found guilty by any twelve +jurymen in England,—no such idea ever entered his head. I have said +that many people had begun to suspect; but no such suspicions had +reached his ears. What man, unless it should be Dockwrath, would +whisper to the son the possibility of his mother's guilt? Dockwrath +had done more than whisper it; but the words of such a man could have +no avail with him against his mother's character.</p> + +<p>On that day Mrs. Orme had been with Lady Mason for some hours, and +had used all her eloquence to induce the mother even then to divulge +her secret to her son. Mrs. Orme had suggested that Sir Peregrine +should tell him; she had offered to tell him herself; she had +proposed that Lady Mason should write to Lucius. But all had been of +no avail. Lady Mason had argued, and had argued with some truth, that +it was too late to tell him now, with the view of obtaining from him +support during the trial. If he were now told, he would not recover +from the first shock of the blow in time to appear in court without +showing on his brow the perturbation of his spirit. His terrible +grief would reveal the secret to every one. "When it is over,"—she +had whispered at last, as Mrs. Orme continued to press upon her the +absolute necessity that Lucius should give up the property,—"when it +is over, you shall do it."</p> + +<p>With this Mrs. Orme was obliged to rest contented. She had not the +heart to remind Lady Mason how probable it was that the truth might +be told out to all the world during the next two or three days;—that +a verdict of Guilty might make any further telling unnecessary. And +indeed it was not needed that she should do so. In this respect Lady +Mason was fully aware of the nature of the ground on which she stood.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme had sat with her the whole afternoon, only leaving herself +time to be ready for Sir Peregrine's dinner; and as she left her she +promised to be with her early on the following morning to go with her +down to the court. Mr. Aram was also to come to the Farm for her, and +a closed carriage had been ordered from the inn for the occasion.</p> + +<p>"You won't let him prevent you?" were the last words she spoke, as +Mrs. Orme then left her.</p> + +<p>"He will not wish to do so," said Mrs. Orme. "He has already given me +his permission. He never goes back from his word, you know."</p> + +<p>This had been said in allusion to Sir Peregrine. When Mrs. Orme had +first proposed to accompany Lady Mason to the court and to sit by her +side during the whole trial, he had been much startled. He had been +startled, and for a time had been very unwilling to accede to such a +step. The place which she now proposed to fill was one which he had +intended to fill himself;—but he had intended to stand by an +innocent, injured lady, not a perpetrator of midnight forgery. He had +intended to support a spotless being, who would then be his +wife,—not a woman who for years had lived on the proceeds of fraud +and felony, committed by herself!</p> + +<p>"Edith," he had said, "you know that I am unwilling to oppose you; +but I think that in this your feelings are carrying you too far."</p> + +<p>"No, father," she answered, not giving way at all, or showing herself +minded to be turned from her purpose by anything he might say. "Do +not think so; think of her misery. How could she endure it by +herself?"</p> + +<p>"Think of her guilt, Edith!"</p> + +<p>"I will leave others to think of that. But, father, her guilt will +not stain me. Are we not bound to remember what injury she might have +done to us, and how we might still have been ignorant of all this, +had not she herself confessed it—for our sakes—for our sakes, +father?"</p> + +<p>And then Sir Peregrine gave way. When this argument was used to him, +he was forced to yield. It was true that, had not that woman been as +generous as she was guilty, he would now have been bound to share her +shame. The whole of this affair, taken together, had nearly laid him +prostrate; but that which had gone the farthest towards effecting +this ruin, was the feeling that he owed so much to Lady Mason. As +regarded the outer world, the injury to him would have been much more +terrible had he married her; men would then have declared that all +was over with him; but as regards the inner man, I doubt whether he +would not have borne that better. It was easier for him to sustain an +injury than a favour,—than a favour from one whom his judgment +compelled him to disown as a friend.</p> + +<p>But he had given way, and it was understood at The Cleeve that Mrs. +Orme was to remain by Lady Mason's side during the trial. To the +general household there was nothing in this that was wonderful. They +knew only of the old friendship. To them the question of her guilt +was still an open question. As others had begun to doubt, so had +they; but no one then presumed that Sir Peregrine or Mrs. Orme had +any doubt. That they were assured of her innocence was the conviction +of all Hamworth and its neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>"He never goes back from his word, you know," Mrs. Orme had said; and +then she kissed Lady Mason, and went her way. She had never left her +without a kiss, had never greeted her without a warm pressure of the +hand, since that day on which the secret had been told in Sir +Peregrine's library. It would be impossible to describe how great had +been the worth of this affection to Lady Mason; but it may almost be +said that it had kept her alive. She herself had said but little +about it, uttering but few thanks; but not the less had she +recognised the value of what had been done for her. She had even +become more free herself in her intercourse with Mrs. Orme,—more +open in her mode of speech,—had put herself more on an equality with +her friend, since there had ceased to be anything hidden between +them. Previously Lady Mason had felt, and had occasionally expressed +the feeling, that she was hardly fit to associate on equal terms with +Mrs. Orme; but now there was none of this,—now, as they sat together +for hours and hours, they spoke, and argued, and lived together as +though they were equal. But nevertheless, could she have shown her +love by any great deed, there was nothing which Lady Mason would not +have done for Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>She was now left alone, and according to her daily custom would +remain there till the servant told her that Mr. Lucius was waiting +for her in the dining-room. In an early part of this story I have +endeavoured to describe how this woman sat alone, with deep sorrow in +her heart and deep thought on her mind, when she first learned what +terrible things were coming on her. The idea, however, which the +reader will have conceived of her as she sat there will have come to +him from the skill of the artist, and not from the words of the +writer. If that drawing is now near him, let him go back to it. Lady +Mason was again sitting in the same room—that pleasant room, looking +out through the verandah on to the sloping lawn, and in the same +chair; one hand again rested open on the arm of the chair, while the +other supported her face as she leaned upon her elbow; and the sorrow +was still in her heart, and the deep thought in her mind. But the +lines of her face were altered, and the spirit expressed by it was +changed. There was less of beauty, less of charm, less of softness; +but in spite of all that she had gone through there was more of +strength,—more of the power to resist all that this world could do +to her.</p> + +<p>It would be wrong to say that she was in any degree a hypocrite. A +man is no more a hypocrite because his manner and gait when he is +alone are different from those which he assumes in company, than he +is for wearing a dressing-gown in the morning, whereas he puts on a +black coat in the evening. Lady Mason in the present crisis of her +life endeavoured to be true in all her dealings with Mrs. Orme; but +nevertheless Mrs. Orme had not yet read her character. As she now sat +thinking of what the morrow would bring upon her,—thinking of all +that the malice of that man Dockwrath had brought upon her,—she +resolved that she would still struggle on with a bold front. It had +been brought home to her that he, her son, the being for whom her +soul had been imperilled, and all her hopes for this world +destroyed,—that he must be told of his mother's guilt and shame. Let +him be told, and then let him leave her while his anguish and the +feeling of his shame were hot upon him. Should she be still a free +woman when this trial was over she would move herself away at once, +and then let him be told. But still it would be well—well for his +sake, that his mother should not be found guilty by the law. It was +still worth her while to struggle. The world was very hard to her, +bruising her to the very soul at every turn, allowing her no hope, +offering to her no drop of cool water in her thirst. But still for +him there was some future career; and that career perhaps need not be +blotted by the public notice of his mother's guilt. She would still +fight against her foes,—still show to that court, and to the world +that would then gaze at her, a front on which guilt should not seem +to have laid its hideous, defacing hand.</p> + +<p>There was much that was wonderful about this woman. While she was +with those who regarded her with kindness she could be so soft and +womanly; and then, when alone, she could be so stern and hard! And it +may be said that she felt but little pity for herself. Though she +recognised the extent of her misery, she did not complain of it. Even +in her inmost thoughts her plaint was this,—that he, her son, should +be doomed to suffer so deeply for her sin! Sometimes she would utter +to that other mother a word of wailing, in that he would not be soft +to her; but even in that she did not mean to complain of him. She +knew in her heart of hearts that she had no right to expect such +softness. She knew that it was better that it should be as it now +was. Had he stayed with her from morn till evening, speaking kind +words to her, how could she have failed to tell him? In sickness it +may irk us because we are not allowed to take the cool drink that +would be grateful; but what man in his senses would willingly swallow +that by which his very life would be endangered? It was thus she +thought of her son, and what his love might have been to her.</p> + +<p>Yes; she would still bear up, as she had borne up at that other +trial. She would dress herself with care, and go down into the court +with a smooth brow. Men, as they looked at her, should not at once +say, "Behold the face of a guilty woman!" There was still a chance in +the battle, though the odds were so tremendously against her. It +might be that there was but little to which she could look forward, +even though the verdict of the jury should be in her favour; but all +that she regarded as removed from her by a great interval. She had +promised that Lucius should know all after the trial,—that he should +know all, so that the property might be restored to its rightful +owner; and she was fully resolved that this promise should be kept. +But nevertheless there was a long interval. If she could battle +through this first danger,—if by the skill of her lawyers she could +avert the public declaration of her guilt, might not the chances of +war still take some further turn in her favour? And thus, though her +face was pale with suffering and thin with care, though she had +realised the fact that nothing short of a miracle could save +her,—still she would hope for that miracle.</p> + +<p>But the absolute bodily labour which she was forced to endure was so +hard upon her! She would dress herself, and smooth her brow for the +trial; but that dressing herself, and that maintenance of a smooth +brow would impose upon her an amount of toil which would almost +overtask her physical strength. O reader, have you ever known what it +is to rouse yourself and go out to the world on your daily business, +when all the inner man has revolted against work, when a day of rest +has seemed to you to be worth a year of life? If she could have +rested now, it would have been worth many years of life,—worth all +her life. She longed for rest,—to be able to lay aside the terrible +fatigue of being ever on the watch. From the burden of that necessity +she had never been free since her crime had been first committed. She +had never known true rest. She had not once trusted herself to sleep +without the feeling that her first waking thought would be one of +horror, as the remembrance of her position came upon her. In every +word she spoke, in every trifling action of her life, it was +necessary that she should ask herself how that word and action might +tell upon her chances of escape. She had striven to be true and +honest,—true and honest with the exception of that one deed. But +that one deed had communicated its poison to her whole life. Truth +and honesty,—fair, unblemished truth and open-handed, fearless +honesty,—had been impossible to her. Before she could be true and +honest it would be necessary that she should go back and cleanse +herself from the poison of that deed. Such cleansing is to be done. +Men have sinned deep as she had sinned, and, lepers though they have +been, they have afterwards been clean. But that task of cleansing +oneself is not an easy one;—the waters of that Jordan in which it is +needful to wash are scalding hot. The cool neighbouring streams of +life's pleasant valleys will by no means suffice.</p> + +<p>Since she had been home at Orley Farm she had been very scrupulous as +to going down into the parlour both at breakfast and at dinner, so +that she might take her meals with her son. She had not as yet +omitted this on one occasion, although sometimes the task of sitting +through the dinner was very severe upon her. On the present occasion, +the last day that remained to her before the trial—perhaps the last +evening on which she would ever watch the sun set from those windows, +she thought that she would spare herself. "Tell Mr. Lucius," she said +to the servant who came to summon her, "that I would be obliged to +him if he would sit down without me. Tell him that I am not ill, but +that I would rather not go down to dinner!" But before the girl was +on the stairs she had changed her mind. Why should she now ask for +this mercy? What did it matter? So she gathered herself up from the +chair, and going forth from the room, stopped the message before it +was delivered. She would bear on to the end.</p> + +<p>She sat through the dinner, and answered the ordinary questions which +Lucius put to her with her ordinary voice, and then, as was her +custom, she kissed his brow as she left the room. It must be +remembered that they were still mother and son, and that there had +been no quarrel between them. And now, as she went up stairs, he +followed her into the drawing-room. His custom had been to remain +below, and though he had usually seen her again during the evening, +there had seldom or never been any social intercourse between them. +On the present occasion, however, he followed her, and closing the +door for her as he entered the room, he sat himself down on the sofa, +close to her chair.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said, putting out his hand and touching her arm, "things +between us are not as they should be."</p> + +<p>She shuddered, not at the touch, but at the words. Things were not as +they should be between them. "No," she said. "But I am sure of this, +Lucius, that you never had an unkind thought in your heart towards +me."</p> + +<p>"Never, mother. How could I,—to my own mother, who has ever been so +good to me? But for the last three months we have been to each other +nearly as though we were strangers."</p> + +<p>"But we have loved each other all the same," said she.</p> + +<p>"But love should beget close social intimacy, and above all close +confidence in times of sorrow. There has been none such between us."</p> + +<p>What could she say to him? It was on her lips to promise him that +such love should again prevail between them as soon as this trial +should be over; but the words stuck in her throat. She did not dare +to give him so false an assurance. "Dear Lucius," she said, "if it +has been my fault, I have suffered for it."</p> + +<p>"I do not say that it is your fault;—nor will I say that it has been +my own. If I have seemed harsh to you, I beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"No, Lucius, no; you have not been harsh. I have understood you +through it all."</p> + +<p>"I have been grieved because you did not seem to trust me;—but let +that pass now. Mother, I wish that there may be no unpleasant feeling +between us when you enter on this ordeal to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"There is none;—there shall be none."</p> + +<p>"No one can feel more keenly,—no one can feel so keenly as I do, the +cruelty with which you are treated. The sight of your sorrow has made +me wretched."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius!"</p> + +<p>"I know how pure and innocent you are—"</p> + +<p>"No, Lucius, no."</p> + +<p>"But I say yes; and knowing that, it has cut me to the quick to see +them going about a defence of your innocence by quips and quibbles, +as though they were struggling for the escape of a criminal."</p> + +<p>"Lucius!" And she put her hands up, praying for mercy, though she +could not explain to him how terribly severe were his words.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, mother. To me such men as Mr. Chaffanbrass and his +comrades are odious. I will not, and do not believe that their +services are necessary to <span class="nowrap">you—"</span></p> + +<p>"But, Lucius, Mr. Furnival—"</p> + +<p>"Yes; Mr. Furnival! It is he that has done it all. In my heart I wish +that you had never known Mr. Furnival;—never known him as a lawyer +that is," he added, thinking of his own strong love for the lawyer's +daughter.</p> + +<p>"Do not upbraid me now, Lucius. Wait till it is all over."</p> + +<p>"Upbraid you! No. I have come to you now that we may be friends. As +things have gone so far, this plan of defence must of course be +carried on. I will say no more about that. But, mother, I will go +into the court with you to-morrow. That support I can at any rate +give you, and they shall see that there is no quarrel between us."</p> + +<p>But Lady Mason did not desire this. She would have wished that he +might have been miles away from the court had that been possible. +"Mrs. Orme is to be with me," she said.</p> + +<p>Then again there came a black frown upon his brow,—a frown such as +there had often been there of late. "And will Mrs. Orme's presence +make the attendance of your own son improper?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; of course not. I did not mean that, Lucius."</p> + +<p>"Do you not like to have me near you?" he asked; and as he spoke he +rose up, and took her hand as he stood before her.</p> + +<p>She gazed for a moment into his face while the tears streamed down +from her eyes, and then rising from her chair, she threw herself on +to his bosom and clasped him in her arms. "My boy! my boy!" she said. +"Oh, if you could be near me, and away from this—away from this!"</p> + +<p>She had not intended thus to give way, but the temptation had been +too strong for her. When she had seen Mrs. Orme and Peregrine +together,—when she had heard Peregrine's mother, with words +expressed in a joyful tone, affect to complain of the inroads which +her son made upon her, she had envied her that joy. "Oh, if it could +be so with me also!" she always thought; and the words too had more +than once been spoken. Now at last, in this last moment, as it might +be, of her life at home, he had come to her with kindly voice, and +she could not repress her yearning.</p> + +<p>"Lucius," she said; "dearest Lucius! my own boy!" And then the tears +from her eyes streamed hot on to his bosom.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said, "it shall be so. I will be with you."</p> + +<p>But she was now thinking of more than this—of much more. Was it +possible for her to tell him now? As she held him in her arms, hiding +her face upon his breast, she struggled hard to speak the word. Then +in the midst of that struggle, while there was still something like a +hope within her that it might be done, she raised her head and looked +up into his face. It was not a face pleasant to look at, as was that +of Peregrine Orme. It was hard in its outlines, and perhaps too manly +for his age. But she was his mother, and she loved it well. She +looked up at it, and raising her hands she stroked his cheeks. She +then kissed him again and again, with warm, clinging kisses. She +clung to him, holding him close to her, while the sobs which she had +so long repressed came forth from her with a violence that terrified +him. Then again she looked up into his face with one long wishful +gaze; and after that she sank upon the sofa and hid her face within +her hands. She had made the struggle, but it had been of no avail. +She could not tell him that tale with her own voice.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said, "what does this mean? I cannot understand such +grief as this." But for a while she was quite unable to answer. The +flood-gates were at length opened, and she could not restrain the +torrent of her sobbings.</p> + +<p>"You do not understand how weak a woman can be," she said at last.</p> + +<p>But in truth he understood nothing of a woman's strength. He sat down +by her, now and then taking her by the hand when she would leave it +to him, and in his way endeavoured to comfort her. All comfort, we +may say, was out of the question; but by degrees she again became +tranquil. "It shall be to-morrow as you will have it. You will not +object to her being with me also?"</p> + +<p>He did object, but he could not say so. He would have much preferred +to be the only friend near to her, but he felt that he could not deny +her the solace of a woman's aid and a woman's countenance. "Oh no," +he said, "if you wish it." He would have found it impossible to +define even to himself the reason for his dislike to any assistance +coming from the family of the Ormes; but the feeling was there, +strong within his bosom.</p> + +<p>"And when this is over, mother, we will go away," he said. "If you +would wish to live elsewhere, I will sell the property. It will be +better perhaps after all that has passed. We will go abroad for a +while."</p> + +<p>She could make no answer to this except pressing his hand. Ah, if he +had been told—if she had allowed Mrs. Orme to do that kindness for +her, how much better for her would it now have been! Sell the +property! Ah, me! Were they not words of fearful sound in her +ears,—words of terrible import?</p> + +<p>"Yes, it shall be so," she said, putting aside that last proposition +of his. "We will go together to-morrow. Mr. Aram said that he would +sit at my side, but he cannot object to your being there between us." +Mr. Aram's name was odious to Lucius Mason. His close presence would +be odious to him. But he felt that he could urge nothing against an +arrangement that had now become necessary. Mr. Aram, with all his +quibbles, had been engaged, and the trial must now be carried through +with all the Aram tactics.</p> + +<p>After that Lucius left his mother, and took himself out into the dark +night, walking up and down on the road between his house and the +outer gate, endeavouring to understand why his mother should be so +despondent. That she must fear the result of the trial, he thought, +was certain, but he could not bring himself to have any such fear. As +to any suspicion of her guilt,—no such idea had even for one moment +cast a shadow upon his peace of mind.</p> + + +<p><a name="c64" id="c64"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXIV.</h4> +<h3>THE FIRST JOURNEY TO ALSTON.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>At that time Sir Richard Leatherham was the Solicitor-general, and he +had been retained as leading counsel for the prosecution. It was +quite understood by all men who did understand what was going on in +the world, that this trial had been in truth instituted by Mr. Mason +of Groby with the hope of recovering the property which had been left +away from him by his father's will. The whole matter had now been so +much discussed, that the true bearings of it were publicly known. If +on the former trial Lady Mason had sworn falsely, then there could be +no doubt that that will, or the codicil to the will, was an untrue +document, and the property would in that case revert to Mr. Mason, +after such further legal exercitations on the subject as the lawyers +might find necessary and profitable. As far as the public were +concerned, and as far as the Masons were concerned, it was known and +acknowledged that this was another struggle on the part of the Groby +Park family to regain the Orley Farm estate. But then the question +had become much more interesting than it had been in the days of the +old trial, through the allegation which was now made of Lady Mason's +guilt. Had the matter gone against her in the former trial, her child +would have lost the property, and that would have been all. But the +present issue would be very different. It would be much more +tragical, and therefore of much deeper interest.</p> + +<p>As Alston was so near to London, Sir Richard, Mr. Furnival, Mr. +Chaffanbrass, and others, were able to go up and down by +train,—which arrangement was at ordinary assizes a great heartsore +to the hotel-keepers and owners of lodging-houses in Alston. But on +this occasion the town was quite full in spite of this facility. The +attorneys did not feel it safe to run up and down in that way, nor +did the witnesses. Mr. Aram remained, as did also Mr. Mat Round. +Special accommodation had been provided for John Kenneby and Bridget +Bolster, and Mr. Mason of Groby had lodgings of his own.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason of Groby had suggested to the attorneys in Bedford Row that +his services as a witness would probably be required, but they had +seemed to think otherwise. "We shall not call you," Mr. Round had +said, "and I do not suppose that the other side will do so. They +can't if they do not first serve you." But in spite of this Mr. Mason +had determined to be at Alston. If it were true that this woman had +robbed him;—if it could be proved that she had really forged a will, +and then by crime of the deepest dye taken from him for years that +which was his own, should he not be there to see? Should he not be a +witness to her disgrace? Should he not be the first to know and feel +his own tardy triumph? Pity! Pity for her! When such a word was named +to him, it seemed to him as though the speaker were becoming to a +certain extent a partner in her guilt. Pity! Yes; such pity as an +Englishman who had caught the Nana Sahib might have felt for his +victim. He had complained twenty times since this matter had been +mooted of the folly of those who had altered the old laws. That folly +had probably robbed him of his property for twenty years, and would +now rob him of half his revenge. Not that he ever spoke even to +himself of revenge. "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord." He would +have been as able as any man to quote the words, and as willing. +Justice, outraged justice, was his theme. Whom had he ever robbed? To +whom had he not paid all that was owing? "All that have I done from +my youth upwards." Such were his thoughts of himself; and with such +thoughts was it possible that he should willingly be absent from +Alston during such a trial?</p> + +<p>"I really would stay away if I were you," Mat Round had said to him.</p> + +<p>"I will not stay away," he had replied, with a look black as a +thundercloud. Could there really be anything in those suspicions of +Dockwrath, that his own lawyer had wilfully thrown him over once, and +was now anxious to throw him over again? "I will not stay away," he +said; and Dockwrath secured his lodgings for him. About this time he +was a good deal with Mr. Dockwrath, and almost regretted that he had +not followed that gentleman's advice at the commencement of the +trial, and placed the management of the whole concern in his hands.</p> + +<p>Thus Alston was quite alive on the morning of the trial, and the +doors of the court-house were thronged long before they were opened. +They who were personally concerned in the matter, whose presence +during the ceremony would be necessary, or who had legal connection +with the matter in hand, were of course not driven to this tedious +manner of obtaining places. Mr. Dockwrath, for instance, did not +stand waiting at the door, nor did his friend Mr. Mason. Mr. +Dockwrath was a great man as far as this day was concerned, and could +command admittance from the doorkeepers and others about the court. +But for the outer world, for men and women who were not lucky enough +to be lawyers, witnesses, jurymen, or high sheriff, there was no +means of hearing and seeing the events of this stirring day except +what might be obtained by exercise of an almost unlimited patience.</p> + +<p>There had been much doubt as to what arrangement for her attendance +at the court it might be best for Lady Mason to make, and some +difficulty too as to who should decide as to these arrangements. Mr. +Aram had been down more than once, and had given a hint that it would +be well that something should be settled. It had ended in his +settling it himself,—he, with the assistance of Mrs. Orme. What +would Sir Peregrine have said had he known that on any subject these +two had been leagued in council together?</p> + +<p>"She can go from hence in a carriage—a carriage from the inn," Mrs. +Orme had said.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly; a carriage from the inn; yes. But in the +evening, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"When the trial is over?" said Mrs. Orme, inquiring from him his +meaning.</p> + +<p>"We can hardly expect that it shall be over in one day, ma'am. She +will continue to be on bail, and can return home. I will see that she +is not annoyed as she leaves the town."</p> + +<p>"Annoyed?" said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"By the people I mean."</p> + +<p>"Will there be anything of that, sir?" she asked, turning pale at the +idea. "I shall be with her, you know."</p> + +<p>"Through the whole affair, ma'am?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, through the whole affair."</p> + +<p>"They'll want to have a look at her of course; but,—Mrs. Orme, we'll +see that you are not annoyed. Yes; she had better come back home the +first day. The expense won't be much; will it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Mrs. Orme. "I must return home, you know. How many days +will it be, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps two,—perhaps three. It may run on all the week. Of +course you know, Mrs. <span class="nowrap">Orme—"</span></p> + +<p>"Know what?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"When the trial is over, if—if it should go against us,—then you +must return alone."</p> + +<p>And so the matter had been settled, and Mr. Aram himself had ordered +the carriage from the inn. Sir Peregrine's carriage would have been +at their disposal,—or rather Mrs. Orme's own carriage; but she had +felt that The Cleeve arms on The Cleeve panels would be out of place +in the streets of Hamworth on such an occasion. It would of course be +impossible that she should not be recognised in the court, but she +would do as little as possible to proclaim her own presence.</p> + +<p>When the morning came, the very morning of the terrible day, Mrs. +Orme came down early from her room, as it was necessary that she +should breakfast two hours before the usual time. She had said +nothing of this to Sir Peregrine, hoping that she might have been +able to escape in the morning without seeing him. She had told her +son to be there; but when she made her appearance in the breakfast +parlour, she found that his grandfather was already with him. She sat +down and took her cup of tea almost in silence, for they all felt +that on such a morning much speech was impossible for them.</p> + +<p>"Edith, my dear," said the baronet, "you had better eat something. +Think of the day that is before you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father, I have," said she, and she lifted a morsel of bread to +her mouth.</p> + +<p>"You must take something with you," said he, "or you will be faint in +the court. Have you thought how many hours you will be there?"</p> + +<p>"I will see to that," said Peregrine, speaking with a stern decision +in his voice that was by no means natural to him.</p> + +<p>"Will you be there, Perry?" said his mother.</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall. I will see that you have what you want. You will +find that I will be near you."</p> + +<p>"But how will you get in, my boy?" asked his grandfather.</p> + +<p>"Let me alone for that. I have spoken to the sheriff already. There +is no knowing what may turn up; so if anything does turn up you may +be sure that I am near you."</p> + +<p>Then another slight attempt at eating was made, the cup of tea was +emptied, and the breakfast was finished. "Is the carriage there, +Perry?" asked Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is at the door."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, father; I am so sorry to have disturbed you."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Edith; God bless you, and give you strength to bear it. +And, <span class="nowrap">Edith—"</span></p> + +<p>"Sir?" and she held his hand as he whispered to her.</p> + +<p>"Say to her a word of kindness from me;—a word of kindness. Tell her +that I have forgiven her, but tell her also that man's forgiveness +will avail her nothing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father, I will."</p> + +<p>"Teach her where to look for pardon. But tell her all the same that I +have forgiven her."</p> + +<p>And then he handed her into the carriage. Peregrine, as he stood +aside, had watched them as they whispered, and to his mind also as he +followed them to the carriage a suspicion of what the truth might be +now made its way. Surely there would be no need of all this solemn +mourning if she were innocent. Had she been esteemed as innocent, Sir +Peregrine was not the man to believe that any jury of his countrymen +could find her guilty. Had this been the reason for that sudden +change,—for that breaking off of the intended marriage? Even +Peregrine, as he went down the steps after his mother, had begun to +suspect the truth; and we may say that he was the last within all +that household who did so. During the last week every servant at The +Cleeve had whispered to her fellow-servant that Lady Mason had forged +the will.</p> + +<p>"I shall be near you, mother," said Peregrine as he put his hand into +the carriage; "remember that. The judge and the other fellows will go +out in the middle of the day to get a glass of wine. I'll have +something for both of you near the court."</p> + +<p>Poor Mrs. Orme as she pressed her son's hand felt much relieved by +the assurance. It was not that she feared anything, but she was going +to a place that was absolutely new to her,—to a place in which the +eyes of many would be fixed on her,—to a place in which the eyes of +all would be fixed on the companion with whom she would be joined. +Her heart almost sank within her as the carriage drove away. She +would be alone till she reached Orley Farm, and there she would take +up not only Lady Mason, but Mr. Aram also. How would it be with them +in that small carriage while Mr. Aram was sitting opposite to them? +Mrs. Orme by no means regretted this act of kindness which she was +doing, but she began to feel that the task was not a light one. As to +Mr. Aram's presence in the carriage, she need have been under no +uneasiness. He understood very well when his presence was desirable, +and also when it was not desirable.</p> + +<p>When she arrived at the door of Orley Farm house she found Mr. Aram +waiting there to receive her. "I am sorry to say," said he, raising +his hat, "that Lady Mason's son is to accompany us."</p> + +<p>"She did not tell me," said Mrs. Orme, not understanding why this +should make him sorry.</p> + +<p>"It was arranged between them last night, and it is very unfortunate. +I cannot explain this to her; but +<span class="nowrap">perhaps—"</span></p> + +<p>"Why is it unfortunate, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Things will be said which—which—which would drive me mad if they +were said about my mother." And immediately there was a touch of +sympathy between the high-bred lady and the Old Bailey Jew lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Orme. "It will be dreadful."</p> + +<p>"And then if they find her guilty! It may be so, you know. And how is +he to sit there and hear the judge's charge;—and then the verdict, +and the sentence. If he is there he cannot escape. I'll tell you +what, Mrs. Orme; he should not be there at all."</p> + +<p>But what could she do? Had it been possible that she should be an +hour alone with Lady Mason, she would have explained all this to +her,—or if not all, would have explained much of it. But now, with +no minutes to spare, how could she make this understood? "But all +that will not come to-day, will it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not all,—not the charge or the verdict. But he should not be there +even to-day. He should have gone away; or if he remained at home, he +should not have shown himself out of the house."</p> + +<p>But this was too late now, for as they were still speaking Lady Mason +appeared at the door, leaning on her son's arm. She was dressed from +head to foot in black, and over her face there was a thick black +veil. Mr. Aram spoke no word further as she stepped up the steps from +the hall door to the carriage, but stood back, holding the +carriage-door open in his hand. Lucius merely bowed to Mrs. Orme as +he assisted his mother to take her place; and then following her, he +sat himself down in silence opposite to them. Mr. Aram, who had +carefully arranged his own programme, shut the door, and mounted on +to the box beside the driver.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme had held out her own hand, and Lady Mason having taken it, +still held it after she was seated. Then they started, and for the +first mile no word was spoken between them. Mrs. Orme was most +anxious to speak, if it might only be for the sake of breaking the +horrid stillness of their greeting; but she could think of no word +which it would be proper on such an occasion to say, either to +Lucius, or even before him. Had she been alone with Lady Mason there +would have been enough of words that she could have spoken. Sir +Peregrine's message was as a burden upon her tongue till she could +deliver it; but she could not deliver it while Lucius Mason was +sitting by her.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason herself was the first to speak. "I did not know yesterday +that Lucius would come," she said, "or I should have told you."</p> + +<p>"I hope it does not inconvenience you," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; by no means."</p> + +<p>"I could not let my mother go out without me on such an occasion as +this. But I am grateful to you, Mrs. Orme, for coming also."</p> + +<p>"I thought it would be better for her to have some lady with her," +said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, it is better—much better." And then no further word was +spoken by any of them till the carriage drove up to the court-house +door. It may be hoped that the journey was less painful to Mr. Aram +than to the others, seeing that he solaced himself on the coach-box +with a cigar.</p> + +<p>There was still a great crowd round the front of the court-house when +they reached it, although the doors were open, and the court was +already sitting. It had been arranged that this case—the great case +of the assize—should come on first on this day, most of the criminal +business having been completed on that preceding; and Mr. Aram had +promised that his charge should be forthcoming exactly at ten +o'clock. Exactly at ten the carriage was driven up to the door, and +Mr. Aram jumping from his seat directed certain policemen and +sheriff's servants to make a way for the ladies up to the door, and +through the hall of the court-house. Had he lived in Alston all his +life, and spent his days in the purlieus of that court, he could not +have been more at home or have been more promptly obeyed.</p> + +<p>"And now I think we may go in," he said, opening the door and letting +down the steps with his own hands.</p> + +<p>At first he took them into a small room within the building, and then +bustled away himself into the court. "I shall be back in half a +minute," he said; and in half a dozen half-minutes he was back. "We +are all ready now, and shall have no trouble about our places. If you +have anything to leave,—shawls, or things of that sort,—they will +be quite safe here: Mrs. Hitcham will look after them." And then an +old woman who had followed Mr. Aram into the room on the last +occasion curtsied to them. But they had nothing to leave, and their +little procession was soon made.</p> + +<p>Lucius at first offered his arm to his mother, and she had taken it +till she had gone through the door into the hall. Mr. Aram also had, +with some hesitation, offered his arm to Mrs. Orme; but she, in spite +of that touch of sympathy, had managed, without speaking, to decline +it. In the hall, however, when all the crowd of gazers had turned +their eyes upon them and was only kept off from pressing on them by +the policemen and sheriff's officers, Lady Mason remembered herself, +and suddenly dropping her son's arm, she put out her hand for Mrs. +Orme. Mr. Aram was now in front of them, and thus they two followed +him into the body of the court. The veils of both of them were down; +but Mrs. Orme's veil was not more than ordinarily thick, and she +could see everything that was around her. So they walked up through +the crowded way, and Lucius followed them by himself.</p> + +<p>They were very soon in their seats, the crowd offering them no +impediment. The judge was already on the bench,—not our old +acquaintance Justice Staveley, but his friend and colleague Baron +Maltby. Judge Staveley was sitting in the other court. Mrs. Orme and +Lady Mason soon found themselves seated on a bench, with a slight +standing desk before them, much as though they were seated in a +narrow pew. Up above them, on the same seat, were the three +barristers employed on Lady Mason's behalf; nearest to the judge was +Mr. Furnival; then came Felix Graham, and below him sat Mr. +Chaffanbrass, somewhat out of the line of precedence, in order that +he might more easily avail himself of the services of Mr. Aram. +Lucius found himself placed next to Mr. Chaffanbrass, and his mother +sat between him and Mrs. Orme. On the bench below them, immediately +facing a large table which was placed in the centre of the court, sat +Mr. Aram and his clerk.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill64" id="ill64"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill64.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill64-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="The Court." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">The Court.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill64.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>Mrs. Orme as she took her seat was so confused that she could hardly +look around her; and it may be imagined that Lady Mason must have +suffered at any rate as much in the same way. But they who were +looking at her—and it may be said that every one in the court was +looking at her—were surprised to see that she raised her veil as +soon as she was seated. She raised her veil, and never lowered it +again till she left the court, and repassed out into the hall. She +had thought much of this day,—even of the little incidents which +would occur,—and she was aware that her identification would be +necessary. Nobody should tell her to unveil herself, nor would she +let it be thought that she was afraid to face her enemies. So there +she sat during the whole day, bearing the gaze of the court.</p> + +<p>She had dressed herself with great care. It may be said of most women +who could be found in such a situation, that they would either give +no special heed to their dress on such a morning, or that they would +appear in garments of sorrow studiously unbecoming and lachrymose, or +that they would attempt to outface the world, and have appeared there +in bright trappings, fit for happier days. But Lady Mason had dressed +herself after none of these fashions. Never had her clothes been +better made, or worn with a better grace; but they were all black, +from her bonnet-ribbon down to her boot, and were put on without any +attempt at finery or smartness. As regards dress, she had never +looked better than she did now; and Mr. Furnival, when his eye caught +her as she turned her head round towards the judge, was startled by +the grace of her appearance. Her face was very pale, and somewhat +hard; but no one on looking at it could say that it was the +countenance of a woman overcome either by sorrow or by crime. She was +perfect mistress of herself, and as she looked round the court, not +with defiant gaze, but with eyes half raised, and a look of modest +but yet conscious intelligence, those around her hardly dared to +think that she could be guilty.</p> + +<p>As she thus looked her gaze fell on one face that she had not seen +for years, and their eyes met. It was the face of Joseph Mason of +Groby, who sat opposite to her; and as she looked at him her own +countenance did not quail for a moment. Her own countenance did not +quail; but his eyes fell gradually down, and when he raised them +again she had averted her face.</p> + + +<p><a name="c65" id="c65"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXV.</h4> +<h3>FELIX GRAHAM RETURNS TO NONINGSBY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"If you love the man, let him come." It was thus that the judge had +declared to his daughter his opinion of what had better be done in +that matter of Felix Graham. Then he had gone on to declare that he +had given his permission to Felix Graham to say anything that he had +got to say, and finally had undertaken to invite Felix Graham to +spend the assize week at Noningsby. Of course in the mind of the +judge all this amounted to an actual giving away of his daughter. He +regarded the thing now as done, looking upon the young people as +betrothed, and his reflections mainly ran on the material part of the +business. How should Graham be made to earn an income, and what +allowance must be made to him till he did so? There was a certain sum +set apart for Madeline's fortune, but that would by no means suffice +for the livelihood of a married barrister in London. Graham no doubt +earned something as it was, but that was done by his pen rather than +by his wig, and the judge was inclined to think that the pen must be +abandoned before the wig could be made profitable. Such were the +directions which his thoughts took regarding Madeline's lot in life. +With him the next week or two, with their events, did not signify +much; whereas the coming years did signify a great deal.</p> + +<p>At that time, on that Sunday afternoon, there still remained to +Madeline the best part of a month to think of it all, before Felix +should reappear upon the scene. But then she could not think of it by +herself in silence. Her father had desired her to tell her mother +what had passed, and she felt that a great difficulty still lay +before her. She knew that her mother did not wish her to marry Felix +Graham. She knew that her mother did wish her to marry Peregrine +Orme. And therefore though no mother and child had ever treated each +other with a sweeter confidence, or loved each other with warmer +hearts, there was as it were a matter of disunion between them. But +nevertheless she must tell her mother, and the dread of this telling +weighed heavy upon her as she sat that night in the drawing-room +reading the article which Felix had written.</p> + +<p>But she need not have been under any alarm. Her father, when he told +her to discuss the matter with her mother, had by no means intended +to throw on her shoulders the burden of converting Lady Staveley to +the Graham interest. He took care to do this himself effectually, so +that in fact there should be no burden left for Madeline's shoulders. +"Well, my dear," he said that same Sunday evening to his wife, "I +have had it all out with Madeline this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"About Mr. Graham, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; about Mr. Graham. I have promised that he shall come here for +the assize week."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>"It's done, my love; and I believe we shall find it all for the best. +The bishops' daughters always marry clergymen, and the judges' +daughters ought to marry lawyers."</p> + +<p>"But you can't give him a practice. The bishops have livings to give +away."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I may show him how to make a practice for himself, which +would be better. Take my word for it that it will be best for her +happiness. You would not have liked to be disappointed yourself, when +you made up your mind to be married."</p> + +<p>"No, I should not," said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"And she will have a will of her own quite as strong as you had." And +then there was silence in the room for some time.</p> + +<p>"You'll be kind to him when he comes?" said the judge.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Lady Staveley, in a voice that was by no means devoid +of melancholy.</p> + +<p>"Nobody can be so kind as you when you please. And as it is to +<span class="nowrap">be—"</span></p> + +<p>"I always did like him," said Lady Staveley, "although he is so very +plain."</p> + +<p>"You'll soon get used to that, my dear."</p> + +<p>"And as for poor young Mr. Orme—"</p> + +<p>"As for poor young Mr. Orme, as you call him, he will not die of a +broken heart. Poor young Mr. Orme has all the world before him and +will soon console himself."</p> + +<p>"But he is so attached to her. And then The Cleeve is so near."</p> + +<p>"We must give up all that, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Lady Staveley; and from that moment it may be said +that she had given in her adhesion to the Graham connection. When +some time after she gave her orders to Baker as to preparing a room +for Mr. Graham, it was made quite clear to that excellent woman by +her mistress's manner and anxiety as to the airing of the sheets, +that Miss Madeline was to have her own way in the matter.</p> + +<p>But long previous to these preparations Madeline and her mother had +discussed the matter fully. "Papa says that Mr. Graham is to come +here for the assize week," said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Yes; so he told me," Madeline replied, very bashfully.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's all for the best."</p> + +<p>"I hope it is," said Madeline. What could she do but hope so?</p> + +<p>"Your papa understands everything so very well that I am sure he +would not let him come if it were not proper."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"And now I look upon the matter as all settled."</p> + +<p>"What matter, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"That he—that he is to come here as your lover."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, mamma. Pray don't imagine that. It is not so at all. What +should I do if you were to say anything to make him think so?"</p> + +<p>"But you told me that you loved him."</p> + +<p>"So I do, mamma."</p> + +<p>"And he told your papa that he was desperately in love with you."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, mamma."</p> + +<p>"But he did;—your papa told me so, and that's why he asked him to +come down here again. He never would have done it without."</p> + +<p>Madeline had her own idea about this, believing that her father had +thought more of her wants in the matter than he had of those of Felix +Graham; but as to this she said nothing. "Nevertheless, mamma, you +must not say that to any one," she answered. "Mr. Graham has never +spoken to me,—not a word. I should of course have told you had he +done so."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sure of that. But, Madeline, I suppose it's all the same. +He asked papa for permission to speak to you, and your papa has given +it."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know, mamma."</p> + +<p>It was a quarter of an hour after that when Lady Staveley again +returned to the subject. "I am sure Mr. Graham is very clever, and +all that."</p> + +<p>"Papa says that he is very clever indeed."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite sure he is, and he makes himself very nice in the house, +always talking when there are people to dinner. Mr. Arbuthnot never +will talk when there are people to dinner. But Mr. Arbuthnot has got +a very nice place in Warwickshire, and they say he'll come in for the +county some day."</p> + +<p>"Of course, mamma, if there should be anything of that sort, we +should not be rich people, like Isabella and Mr. Arbuthnot."</p> + +<p>"Not at first, dear."</p> + +<p>"Neither first nor last. But I don't care about that. If you and papa +will like him, and—and—if it should come to that!—Oh, mamma, he is +so good, and so clever, and he understands things, and talks about +things as though he knew how to make himself master of them. And he +is honest and proud. Oh, mamma, if it should be so, I do hope you +will love him."</p> + +<p>And then Lady Staveley promised that she would love him, thinking +nevertheless that had things gone differently she would have extended +a more motherly warmth of affection to Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>And about this time Peregrine Orme made another visit to Noningsby. +His intention was to see the judge, explaining what steps his +grandfather had taken as to The Cleeve property, and then once more +to have thrown himself at Madeline's feet. But circumstances as they +turned out prevented this. Although he had been at some trouble to +ascertain when the judge would be at Noningsby, nevertheless, on his +arrival, the judge was out. He would be home, the servant said, to +dinner, but not before; and therefore he had again seen Lady +Staveley, and after seeing her had not thrown himself at Madeline's +feet.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind to give a systematic and detailed account of +his pecuniary circumstances, and had selected nearly the very words +in which this should be made, not actuated by any idea that such a +process would have any weight with Madeline, or by any means assist +him with her, but hoping that he might thus procure the judge's +permission to press his suit. But all this preparation and all his +chosen words were of no use to him. When he saw Lady Staveley's face +he at once knew that she had no comfort to offer to him. "Well," he +said; "is there any chance for me?" He had intended to speak in a +very different tone, but words which have been prepared seldom manage +to fit themselves into their appropriate places.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme," she said, taking him by the hand, and holding it. "I +wish it were different; I wish it could be different."</p> + +<p>"There is no hope then?" And as he spoke there was a sound in his +voice as though the tidings would utterly unman him.</p> + +<p>"I should be wicked to deceive you," she said. "There is no hope." +And then as she looked up at the sorrow so plainly written in the +lines of his young, handsome face, tears came into her eyes and +rolled down her cheeks. How could it be that a daughter of hers +should be indifferent to the love of such a suitor as this?</p> + +<p>But Peregrine, when he saw her sorrow, repressed his own. "Very +well," said he; "I will at any rate know how to take an answer. And +for your kindness to me in the matter I am much obliged. I ought to +have known myself better than to have supposed she could have cared +for me."</p> + +<p>"I am sure she feels that you have done her great honour."</p> + +<p>"Psha! honour! But never mind—Good-bye, Lady Staveley."</p> + +<p>"Will you not see her?"</p> + +<p>"No. Why should I see her? Give her my love—my best +<span class="nowrap">love—"</span></p> + +<p>"I will—I will."</p> + +<p>"And tell her that I hope she may be happy, and make some fellow +happy who is more fortunate than I am. I shall get out of the way +somewhere, so that I shall not make a fool of myself when I see it." +And then he took his departure, and rode back again to The Cleeve. +This happened two days before the commencement of the trial, and the +day before that on which Graham was to arrive at Noningsby.</p> + +<p>When Graham received the judge's note asking him to put up at +Noningsby for the assize week, he was much astonished. It was very +short.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Graham</span>,</p> + +<p>As you are coming down to Alston, special in Lady Mason's +case, you may as well come and stay here. Lady Staveley +bids me say that she will be delighted. Your elder +brethren will no doubt go back to London each night, so +that you will not be expected to remain with them.</p> + +<p class="ind16">Yours always, &c.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>What could be the intention of the judge in taking so strange a step +as this? The judge had undertaken to see him in three months, having +given him some faint idea that there then might be a chance of hope. +But now, before one month was over, he was actually sending for him +to the house, and inviting him to stay there. What would all the bar +world say when they found that a young barrister was living at the +judge's house during the assizes? Would it not be in every man's +mouth that he was a suitor accepted both by the judge's daughter and +by the judge? There would be nothing in that to go against the grain +with him, if only the fact were so. That the fact should be so he +could not venture to hope even on this hint; but he accepted the +judge's invitation, sent his grateful thanks to Lady Staveley;—as to +Lady Staveley's delight, he was sure that the judge must have +romanced a little, for he had clearly recognised Lady Staveley as his +enemy;—and then he prepared himself for the chances of war.</p> + +<p>On the evening before the trial he arrived at Noningsby just in time +for dinner. He had been obliged to remain an hour or two at Alston in +conference with Mr. Aram, and was later than he had expected he would +be. He had been afraid to come early in the day, lest by doing so he +might have seemed to overstep the margin of his invitation. When he +did arrive, the two ladies were already dressing, and he found the +judge in the hall.</p> + +<p>"A pretty fellow you are," said the judge. "It's dinner-time already, +and of course you take an hour to dress."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Aram—" began Felix.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Mr. Aram! I'll give you fifteen minutes, but not a moment +more." And so Felix was hurried on up to his bedroom—the old bedroom +in which he had passed so many hours, and been so very uneasy. As he +entered the room all that conversation with Augustus Staveley +returned upon his memory. He had seen his friend in London, and told +him that he was going down to Noningsby. Augustus had looked grave, +but had said nothing about Madeline. Augustus was not in his father's +confidence in this matter, and had nothing to do but to look grave. +On that very morning, moreover, some cause had been given to himself +for gravity of demeanour.</p> + +<p>At the door of his room he met Mrs. Baker, and, hurried though he was +by the judge's strict injunction, he could not but shake hands with +his old and very worthy friend.</p> + +<p>"Quite strong again," said he, in answer to her tender inquiries.</p> + +<p>"So you are, I do declare. I will say this, Mr. Graham, for +wholesomeness of flesh you beat anything I ever come nigh. There's a +many would have been weeks and weeks before they could have been +moved."</p> + +<p>"It was your good nursing, Mrs. Baker."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think we did take care of you among us. Do you remember the +pheasant, Mr. Graham?"</p> + +<p>"Remember it! I should think so; and how I improved the occasion."</p> + +<p>"Yes; you did improve fast enough. And the sea-kale, Mr. Graham. +Laws! the row I had with John Gardener about that! And, Mr. Graham, +do you remember how a certain friend used to come and ask after you +at the door? Dear, dear, dear! I nearly caught it about that."</p> + +<p>But Graham in his present frame of mind could not well endure to +discuss his remembrances on that subject with Mrs. Baker, so he +good-humouredly pushed her out of the room, saying that the judge +would be mad if he delayed.</p> + +<p>"That's true, too, Mr. Graham. And it won't do for you to take up Mr. +Augustus's tricks in the house yet; will it?" And then she left the +room. "What does she mean by 'yet'?" Felix said to himself as he went +through the ceremony of dressing with all the haste in his power.</p> + +<p>He was in the drawing-room almost within the fifteen minutes, and +there he found none but the judge and his wife and daughter. He had +at first expected to find Augustus there, but had been told by Mrs. +Baker that he was to come down on the following morning. His first +greeting from Lady Staveley was something like that he had already +received up stairs, only made in less exuberant language. He was +congratulated on his speedy recovery and made welcome by a kind +smile. Then he shook hands with Madeline, and as he did so he +observed that the judge was at the trouble to turn away, so that he +should not watch the greeting. This he did see, but into Madeline's +face he hardly ventured to look. He touched her hand, however, and +said a word; and she also murmured something about his injury. "And +now we'll go to dinner," said the judge. "Give your arm that is not +broken to Lady Staveley." And so the meeting was over. "Augustus will +be in Alston to-morrow when the court is opened," said the judge. +"That is to say if he finds it possible to get up so soon; but to-day +he had some engagements in town." The truth however was that the +judge had chosen to be alone with Felix after dinner.</p> + +<p>The dinner was very pleasant, but the judge talked for the whole +party. Madeline hardly spoke at all, nor did Lady Staveley say much. +Felix managed to put in a few words occasionally, as it always +becomes a good listener to do, but the brunt of the battle lay with +the host. One thing Felix observed painfully,—that not a word was +spoken about Lady Mason or Orley Farm. When he had been last there +the judge had spoken of it openly before the whole party, expressing +his opinion that she was a woman much injured; but now neither did he +say anything nor did Lady Staveley. He would probably not have +observed this had not a feeling crept upon him during the last +fortnight, that that thorough conviction which men had felt as to her +innocence was giving way. While the ladies were there, however, he +did not himself allude to the subject.</p> + +<p>When they had left the room and the door had been closed behind them, +the judge began the campaign—began it, and as far as he was +concerned, ended it in a very few minutes. "Graham," said he, "I am +glad to see you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, judge," said he.</p> + +<p>"Of course you know, and I know, what that amounts to now. My idea is +that you acted as an honest man when you were last here. You are not +a rich <span class="nowrap">man—"</span></p> + +<p>"Anything but that."</p> + +<p>"And therefore I do not think it would have been well had you +endeavoured to gain my daughter's affections without speaking to +me,—or to her mother." Judge Staveley always spoke of his wife as +though she were an absolute part of himself. "She and I have +discussed the matter now,—and you are at liberty to address yourself +to Madeline if you please."</p> + +<p>"My dear judge—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you understand that I am not answering for her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course not."</p> + +<p>"That's your look out. You must fight your own battle there. What you +are allowed to understand is this,—that her father and mother will +give their consent to an engagement, if she finds that she can bring +herself to give hers. If you are minded to ask her, you may do so."</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall ask her."</p> + +<p>"She will have five thousand pounds on her marriage, settled upon +herself and her children,—and as much more when I die, settled in +the same way. Now fill your glass." And in his own easy way he turned +the subject round and began to talk about the late congress at +Birmingham.</p> + +<p>Felix felt that it was not open to him at the present moment to say +anything further about Madeline; and though he was disappointed at +this,—for he would have wished to go on talking about her all the +evening—perhaps it was better for him. The judge would have said +nothing further to encourage him, and he would have gradually been +taught to think that his chance with Madeline was little, and then +less. "He must have been a fool," my readers will say, "not to have +known that Madeline was now his own." Probably. But then +modest-minded young men are fools.</p> + +<p>At last he contrived to bring the conversation round from the +Birmingham congress to the affairs of his new client; and indeed he +contrived to do so in spite of the judge, who was not particularly +anxious to speak on the subject. "After all that we said and did at +Birmingham, it is odd that I should so soon find myself joined with +Mr. Furnival."</p> + +<p>"Not at all odd. Of course you must take up your profession as others +have taken it up before you. Very many young men dream of a Themis +fit for Utopia. You have slept somewhat longer than others, and your +dreams have been more vivid."</p> + +<p>"And now I wake to find myself leagued with the Empson and Dudley of +our latter-day law courts."</p> + +<p>"Fie, Graham, fie. Do not allow yourself to speak in that tone of men +whom you know to be zealous advocates, and whom you do not know to be +dishonest opponents."</p> + +<p>"It is they and such as they that make so many in these days feel the +need of some Utopia,—as it was in the old days of our history. But I +beg your pardon for nicknaming them, and certainly ought not to have +done so in your presence."</p> + +<p>"Well; if you repent yourself, and will be more charitable for the +future, I will not tell of you."</p> + +<p>"I have never yet even seen Mr. Chaffanbrass in court," said Felix, +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"The more shame for you, never to have gone to the court in which he +practises. A barrister intending to succeed at the common law bar +cannot have too wide an experience in such matters."</p> + +<p>"But then I fear that I am a barrister not intending to succeed."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to hear it," said the judge. And then again the +conversation flagged for a minute or two.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever seen him at a country assize town before, judge?" +asked Felix.</p> + +<p>"Whom? Chaffanbrass? I do not remember that I have."</p> + +<p>"His coming down in this way is quite unusual, I take it."</p> + +<p>"Rather so, I should say. The Old Bailey is his own ground."</p> + +<p>"And why should they think it necessary in such a case as this to +have recourse to such a proceeding?"</p> + +<p>"It would be for me to ask you that, seeing that you are one of the +counsel."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say, judge, that between you and me you are unwilling +to give an opinion on such a subject?"</p> + +<p>"Well; you press me hard, and I think I may fairly say that I am +unwilling. I would sooner discuss the matter with you after the +verdict than before it. Come; we will go into the drawing-room."</p> + +<p>There was not much in this. Indeed if it were properly looked at +there was nothing in it. But nevertheless Graham, as he preceded the +judge out of the dining-room, felt that his heart misgave him about +Lady Mason. When first the matter had been spoken of at Noningsby, +Judge Staveley had been fully convinced of Lady Mason's innocence, +and had felt no reserve in expressing his opinion. He had expressed +such an opinion very openly. Why should he now affect so much +reticence, seeing that the question had been raised in the presence +of them two alone? It was he who had persuaded Graham to undertake +this work, and now he went back from what he had done, and refused +even to speak upon the subject. "It must be that he thinks she is +guilty," said Graham to himself, as he lay down that night in bed.</p> + +<p>But there had been something more for him to do before bedtime came. +He followed the judge into the drawing-room, and in five minutes +perceived that his host had taken up a book with the honest intention +of reading it. Some reference was made to him by his wife, but he +showed at once that he did not regard Graham as company, and that he +conceived himself to be entitled to enjoy the full luxury of home. +"Upon my word I don't know," he answered, without taking his eye off +the page. And then nobody spoke to him another word.</p> + +<p>After another short interval Lady Staveley went to sleep. When Felix +Graham had before been at Noningsby, she would have rebelled against +nature with all her force rather than have slept while he was left to +whisper what he would to her darling. But now he was authorised to +whisper, and why should not Lady Staveley sleep if she wished it? She +did sleep, and Felix was left alone with his love.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill66a" id="ill66a"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill66a.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill66a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="The Drawing-Room at Noningsby." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">The Drawing-Room at Noningsby.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill66a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>And yet he was not altogether alone. He could not say to her those +words which he was now bound to say; which he longed to say in order +that he might know whether the next stage of his life was to be light +or dark. There sat the judge, closely intent no doubt upon his book, +but wide awake. There also sat Lady Staveley, fast asleep certainly; +but with a wondrous power of hearing even in her sleep. And yet how +was he to talk to his love unless he talked of love? He wished that +the judge would help them to converse; he wished that some one else +was there; he wished at last that he himself was away. Madeline sat +perfectly tranquil stitching a collar. Upon her there was incumbent +no duty of doing anything beyond that. But he was in a measure bound +to talk. Had he dared to do so he also would have taken up a book; +but that he knew to be impossible.</p> + +<p>"Your brother will be down to-morrow," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes; he is to go direct to Alston. He will be here in the +evening,—to dinner."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes; I suppose we shall all be late to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Papa always is late when the assizes are going on," said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"Alston is not very far," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"Only two miles," she answered.</p> + +<p>And during the whole of that long evening the conversation between +them did not reach a more interesting pitch than that.</p> + +<p>"She must think me an utter fool," said Felix to himself, as he sat +staring at the fire. "How well her brother would have made the most +of such an opportunity!" And then he went to bed, by no means in a +good humour with himself.</p> + +<p>On the next morning he again met her at breakfast, but on that +occasion there was no possible opportunity for private conversation. +The judge was all alive, and talked enough for the whole party during +the twenty minutes that was allowed to them before they started for +Alston. "And now we must be off. We'll say half-past seven for +dinner, my dear." And then they also made their journey to Alston.</p> + + +<p><a name="c66" id="c66"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXVI.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW MISS FURNIVAL<br />TREATED HER LOVERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It is a great thing for young ladies to live in a household in which +free correspondence by letter is permitted. "Two for mamma, four for +Amelia, three for Fanny, and one for papa." When the postman has left +his budget they should be dealt out in that way, and no more should +be said about it,—except what each may choose to say. Papa's letter +is about money of course, and interests nobody. Mamma's contain the +character of a cook and an invitation to dinner, and as they interest +everybody, are public property. But Fanny's letters and Amelia's +should be private; and a well-bred mamma of the present day scorns +even to look at the handwriting of the addresses. Now in Harley +Street things were so managed that nobody did see the handwriting of +the addresses of Sophia's letters till they came into her own +hand,—that is, neither her father nor her mother did so. That both +Spooner and Mrs. Ball examined them closely is probable enough.</p> + +<p>This was well for her now, for she did not wish it to be known as yet +that she had accepted an offer from Lucius Mason, and she did wish to +have the privilege of receiving his letters. She fancied that she +loved him. She told herself over and over again that she did so. She +compared him within her own mind to Augustus Staveley, and always +gave the preference to Lucius. She liked Augustus also, and could +have accepted him as well, had it been the way of the world in +England for ladies to have two accepted lovers. Such is not the way +of the world in England, and she therefore had been under the +necessity of choosing one. She had taken the better of the two, she +declared to herself very often; but nevertheless was it absolutely +necessary that the other should be abandoned altogether? Would it not +be well at any rate to wait till this trial should be over? But then +the young men themselves were in such a hurry!</p> + +<p>Lucius, like an honest man, had proposed to go at once to Mr. +Furnival when he was accepted; but to this Sophia had objected, "The +peculiar position in which my father stands to your mother at the +present moment," said she, "would make it very difficult for him to +give you an answer now." Lucius did not quite understand the +reasoning, but he yielded. It did not occur to him for a moment that +either Mr. or Miss Furnival could doubt the validity of his title to +the Orley Farm property.</p> + +<p>But there was no reason why he should not write to her. "Shall I +address here?" he had asked. "Oh yes," said Sophia; "my letters are +quite private." And he had written very frequently, and she had +answered him. His last letter before the trial I propose to publish, +together with Sophia's answer, giving it as my opinion that the +gentleman's production affords by no means a good type of a lover's +letter. But then his circumstances were peculiar. Miss Furnival's +answer was, I think, much better.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> + +<p class="jright">Orley Farm, —— —— ——.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My own Sophia</span>,</p> + +<p>My only comfort—I may really say my only comfort now—is +in writing to you. It is odd that at my age, and having +begun the world early as I did, I should now find myself +so much alone. Were it not for you, I should have no +friend. I cannot describe to you the sadness of this +house, nor the wretched state in which my mother exists. I +sometimes think that had she been really guilty of those +monstrous crimes which people lay to her charge, she could +hardly have been more miserable. I do not understand it; +nor can I understand why your father has surrounded her +with lawyers whom he would not himself trust in a case of +any moment. To me she never speaks on the subject, which +makes the matter worse—worse for both of us. I see her at +breakfast and at dinner, and sometimes sit with her for an +hour in the evening; but even then we have no +conversation. The end of it is I trust soon coming, and +then I hope that the sun will again be bright. In these +days it seems as though there were a cloud over the whole +earth.</p> + +<p>I wish with all my heart that you could have been here +with her. I think that your tone and strength of mind +would have enabled her to bear up against these troubles +with more fortitude. After all, it is but the shadow of a +misfortune which has come across her, if she would but +allow herself so to think. As it is, Mrs. Orme is with her +daily, and nothing I am sure can be more kind. But I can +confess to you, though I could do so to no one else, that +I do not willingly see an intimacy kept up between my +mother and The Cleeve. Why was there that strange +proposition as to her marriage; and why, when it was once +made, was it abandoned? I know that my mother has been not +only guiltless, but guileless, in these matters as to +which she is accused; but nevertheless her affairs will +have been so managed that it will be almost impossible for +her to remain in this neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>When all this is over, I think I shall sell this place. +What is there to bind me,—to bind me or you to Orley +Farm? Sometimes I have thought that I could be happy here, +devoting myself to +<span class="nowrap">agriculture,—</span></p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="noindent">"Fiddlesticks!" Sophia exclaimed, as she read +<span class="nowrap">this,</span></p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent">—and doing something +to lessen the dense ignorance of those +around me; but for such work as that a man should be able +to extend himself over a larger surface than that which I +can influence. My dream of happiness now carries me away +from this to other countries,—to the sunny south. Could +you be happy there? A friend of mine whom I well knew in +Germany, has a villa on the Lake of +<span class="nowrap">Como,—</span></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class="noindent">"Indeed, sir, I'll +do no such thing," said Sophia to +<span class="nowrap">herself,</span></p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent">—and there I think +we might forget all this annoyance.</p> + +<p>I shall not write again now till the trial is over. I have +made up my mind that I will be in court during the whole +proceedings. If my mother will admit it, I will remain +there close to her, as her son should do in such an +emergency. If she will not have this, still I will be +there. No one shall say that I am afraid to see my mother +in any position to which fortune can bring her, or that I +have ever doubted her innocence.</p> + +<p>God bless you, my own one.</p> + +<p class="ind12">Yours,</p> + +<p class="ind15">L. M.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Taking this letter as a whole perhaps we may say that there was not +as much nonsense in it as young gentlemen generally put into their +love-letters to young ladies; but I am inclined to think that it +would have been a better love-letter had there been more nonsense. At +any rate there should have been less about himself, and more about +the lady. He should have omitted the agriculture altogether, and been +more sure of his loved one's tastes before he suggested the sunny +south and the Como villa. It is true that he was circumstanced as few +lovers are, with reference to his mother; but still I think he might +have been less lachrymose. Sophia's answer, which was sent after the +lapse of a day or two, was as +<span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Harley Street, +—— —— ——.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear Lucius</span>,</p> + +<p>I am not surprised that you should feel somewhat +low-spirited at the present moment; but you will find, I +have no doubt, that the results of the next week will cure +all that. Your mother will be herself again when this +trial is over, and you will then wonder that it should +ever have had so depressing an influence either upon you +or upon her. I cannot but suppose that papa has done the +best as to her advisers. I know how anxious he is about +it, and they say that he is very clever in such matters. +Pray give your mother my love. I cannot but think she is +lucky to have Mrs. Orme with her. What can be more +respectable than a connection at such a time with such +people?</p> + +<p>As to your future residence, do not make up your mind to +anything while your spirits are thus depressed. If you +like to leave Orley Farm, why not let it instead of +selling it? As for me, if it should be fated that our lots +are to go together, I am inclined to think that I should +prefer to live in England. In London papa's position might +probably be of some service, and I should like no life +that was not active. But it is too early in the day to +talk thus at present. You must not think me cold hearted +if I say that what has as yet been between us must not be +regarded as an absolute and positive engagement. I, on my +part, hope that it may become so. My heart is not cold, +and I am not ashamed to own that I esteem you favourably; +but marriage is a very serious thing, and there is so much +to be considered! I regard myself as a free agent, and in +a great measure independent of my parents on such a matter +as that; but still I think it well to make no positive +promise without consulting them. When this trial is over I +will speak to my father, and then you will come up to +London and see us.</p> + +<p>Mind you give my love to your mother; and—if it have any +value in your eyes—accept it yourself.</p> + +<p class="ind10">Your affectionate friend,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Sophia +Furnival</span>.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>I feel very confident that Mrs. Furnival was right in declining to +inquire very closely into the circumstances of her daughter's +correspondence. A young lady who could write such a letter to her +lover as that requires but little looking after; and in those points +as to which she may require it, will—if she be so minded—elude it. +Such as Miss Furnival was, no care on her mother's part would, I +think, have made her better. Much care might have made her worse, as, +had she been driven to such resources, she would have received her +letters under a false name at the baker's shop round the corner.</p> + +<p>But the last letter was not written throughout without interruption. +She was just declaring how on her part she hoped that her present +uncertain tenure of her lover's hand might at some future time become +certain, when Augustus Staveley was announced. Sophia, who was alone +in the drawing-room, rose from her table, gracefully, slipped her +note under the cover of the desk, and courteously greeted her +visitor. "And how are they all at dear Noningsby?" she asked.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill66b" id="ill66b"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill66b.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill66b-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"And how are they all at Noningsby?"' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"And how are they all at Noningsby?"<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill66b.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Dear Noningsby is nearly deserted. There is no one there but my +mother and Madeline."</p> + +<p>"And who more would be wanting to make it still dear,—unless it be +the judge? I declare, Mr. Staveley, I was quite in love with your +father when I left. Talk of honey falling from people's mouths!—he +drops nothing less than champagne and pineapples."</p> + +<p>"How very difficult of digestion his conversation must be!"</p> + +<p>"By no means. If the wine be good and the fruit ripe, nothing can be +more wholesome. And is everybody else gone? Let me see;—Mr. Graham +was still there when I left."</p> + +<p>"He came away shortly afterwards,—as soon, that is, as his arm would +allow him."</p> + +<p>"What a happy accident that was for him, Mr. Staveley!"</p> + +<p>"Happy!—breaking three of his ribs, his arm, and his collar-bone! I +thought it very unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's because your character is so deficient in true chivalry. +I call it a very happy accident which gives a gentleman an +opportunity of spending six weeks under the same roof with the lady +of his love. Mr. Graham is a man of spirit, and I am by no means sure +that he did not break his bones on purpose."</p> + +<p>Augustus for a moment thought of denying the imputation with regard +to his sister, but before he had spoken he had changed his mind. He +was already aware that his friend had been again invited down to +Noningsby, and if his father chose to encourage Graham, why should he +make difficulties? He had conceived some general idea that Felix +Graham was not a guest to be welcomed into a rich man's family as a +son-in-law. He was poor and crotchety, and as regards professional +matters unsteady. But all that was a matter for his father to +consider, not for him. So he held his peace as touching Graham, and +contrived to change the subject, veering round towards that point of +the compass which had brought him into Harley Street.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps then, Miss Furnival, it might answer some purpose if I were +to get myself run over outside there. I could get one of Pickford's +vans, or a dray from Barclay and Perkins', if that might be thought +serviceable."</p> + +<p>"It would be of no use in the world, Mr. Staveley. Those very +charitable middle-aged ladies opposite, the Miss Mac Codies, would +have you into their house in no time, and when you woke from your +first swoon, you would find yourself in their best bedroom, with one +on each side of you."</p> + +<p>"And you in the mean time—"</p> + +<p>"I should send over every morning at ten o'clock to inquire after +you—in mamma's name. 'Mrs. Furnival's compliments, and hopes Mr. +Staveley will recover the use of his legs.' And the man would bring +back word: 'The doctor hopes he may, miss; but his left eye is gone +for ever.' It is not everybody that can tumble discreetly. Now you, I +fancy, would only disfigure yourself."</p> + +<p>"Then I must try what fortune can do for me without the brewer's +dray."</p> + +<p>"Fortune has done quite enough for you, Mr. Staveley; I do not advise +you to tempt her any further."</p> + +<p>"Miss Furnival, I have come to Harley Street to-day on purpose to +tempt her to the utmost. There is my +<span class="nowrap">hand—"</span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Staveley, pray keep your hand for a while longer in your own +possession."</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly I shall do so, unless I dispose of it this morning. When +we were at Noningsby together, I ventured to tell you what I felt for +<span class="nowrap">you—"</span></p> + +<p>"Did you, Mr. Staveley? If your feelings were anything beyond the +common, I don't remember the telling."</p> + +<p>"And then," he continued, without choosing to notice her words, "you +affected to believe that I was not in earnest in what I said to you."</p> + +<p>"And you must excuse me if I affect to believe the same thing of you +still."</p> + +<p>Augustus Staveley had come into Harley Street with a positive resolve +to throw his heart and hand and fortune at the feet of Miss Furnival. +I fear that I shall not raise him in the estimation of my readers by +saying so. But then my readers will judge him unfairly. They will +forget that they have had a much better opportunity of looking into +the character of Miss Furnival than he had had; and they will also +forget that they have had no such opportunity of being influenced by +her personal charms. I think I remarked before that Miss Furnival +well understood how best to fight her own battle. Had she shown +herself from the first anxious to regard as a definite offer the +first words tending that way which Augustus had spoken to her, he +would at once have become indifferent about the matter. As a +consequence of her judicious conduct he was not indifferent. We +always want that which we can't get easily. Sophia had made herself +difficult to be gotten, and therefore Augustus fancied that he wanted +her. Since he had been in town he had been frequently in Harley +Street, and had been arguing with himself on the matter. What match +could be more discreet or better? Not only was she very handsome, but +she was clever also. And not only was she handsome and clever, but +moreover she was an heiress. What more could his friends want for +him, and what more could he want for himself? His mother did in truth +regard her as a nasty, sly girl; but then his mother did not know +Sophia, and in such matters mothers are so ignorant!</p> + +<p>Miss Furnival, on his thus repeating his offer, again chose to affect +a belief that he was not in earnest. I am inclined to think that she +rather liked this kind of thing. There is an excitement in the game; +and it is one which may be played without great danger to either +party if it be played cautiously and with some skill. As regards +Augustus at the present moment, I have to say—with some regret—that +he abandoned all idea of caution, and that he showed very little +skill.</p> + +<p>"Then," said he, "I must beg you to lay aside an affectation which is +so very injurious both to my honour and to my hopes of happiness."</p> + +<p>"Your honour, Mr. Staveley, is quite safe, I am certain."</p> + +<p>"I wish that my happiness were equally so," said he. "But at any rate +you will let me have an answer. <span class="nowrap">Sophia—"</span></p> + +<p>And now he stood up, looking at her with something really like love +in his eyes, and Miss Furnival began to understand that if she so +chose it the prize was really within her reach. But then was it a +prize? Was not the other thing the better prize? The other thing was +the better prize;—if only that affair about the Orley Farm were +settled. Augustus Staveley was a good-looking handsome fellow, but +then there was that in the manner and gait of Lucius Mason which +better suited her taste. There are ladies who prefer Worcester ware +to real china; and, moreover, the order for the Worcester ware had +already been given.</p> + +<p>"Sophia, let a man be ever so light-hearted, there will come to him +moments of absolute and almost terrible earnestness."</p> + +<p>"Even to you, Mr. Staveley."</p> + +<p>"I have at any rate done nothing to deserve your scorn."</p> + +<p>"Fie, now; you to talk of my scorn! You come here with soft words +which run easily from your tongue, feeling sure that I shall be proud +in heart when I hear them whispered into my ears; and now you pretend +to be angry because I do not show you that I am elated. Do you think +it probable that I should treat with scorn anything of this sort that +you might say to me seriously?"</p> + +<p>"I think you are doing so."</p> + +<p>"Have you generally found yourself treated with scorn when you have +been out on this pursuit?"</p> + +<p>"By heavens! you have no right to speak to me so. In what way shall I +put my words to make them sound seriously to you? Do you want me to +kneel at your feet, as our grandfathers used to do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not. Our grandmothers were very stupid in desiring +that."</p> + +<p>"If I put my hand on my heart will you believe me better?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least."</p> + +<p>"Then through what formula shall I go?"</p> + +<p>"Go through no formula, Mr. Staveley. In such affairs as these very +little, as I take it, depends on the words that are uttered. When +heart has spoken to heart, or even head to head, very little other +speaking is absolutely necessary."</p> + +<p>"And my heart has not spoken to yours?"</p> + +<p>"Well;—no;—not with that downright plain open language which a +heart in earnest always knows how to use. I suppose you think you +like me?"</p> + +<p>"Sophia, I love you well enough to make you my wife to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and to be tired of your bargain on the next day. Has it ever +occurred to you that giving and taking in marriage is a very serious +thing?"</p> + +<p>"A very serious thing; but I do not think that on that account it +should be avoided."</p> + +<p>"No; but it seems to me that you are always inclined to play at +marriage. Do not be angry with me, but for the life of me I can never +think you are in earnest."</p> + +<p>"But I shall be angry—very angry—if I do not get from you some +answer to what I have ventured to say."</p> + +<p>"What, now; to-day;—this morning? If you insist upon that, the +answer can only be of one sort. If I am driven to decide this morning +on the question that you have asked me, great as the honour is—and +coming from you, Mr. Staveley, it is very great—I must decline it. I +am not able, at any rate at the present moment, to trust my happiness +altogether in your hands." When we think of the half-written letter +which at this moment Miss Furnival had within her desk, this was not +wonderful.</p> + +<p>And then, without having said anything more that was of note, +Augustus Staveley went his way. As he walked up Harley Street, he +hardly knew whether or no he was to consider himself as bound to Miss +Furnival; nor did he feel quite sure whether or no he wished to be so +bound. She was handsome, and clever, and an heiress; but yet he was +not certain that she possessed all those womanly charms which are +desirable in a wife. He could not but reflect that she had never yet +said a soft word to him.</p> + + +<p><a name="c67" id="c67"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXVII.</h4> +<h3>MR. MOULDER BACKS HIS OPINION.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>As the day of the trial drew nigh, the perturbation of poor John +Kenneby's mind became very great. Moulder had not intended to +frighten him, but had thought it well to put him up to what he +believed to be the truth. No doubt he would be badgered and bullied. +"And," as Moulder said to his wife afterwards, "wasn't it better that +he should know what was in store for him?" The consequence was, that +had it been by any means possible, Kenneby would have run away on the +day before the trial.</p> + +<p>But it was by no means possible, for Dockwrath had hardly left him +alone for an instant. Dockwrath at this time had crept into a sort of +employment in the case from which Matthew Round had striven in vain +to exclude him. Mr. Round had declared once or twice that if Mr. +Mason encouraged Dockwrath in interfering, he, Round, would throw the +matter up. But professional men cannot very well throw up their +business, and Round went on, although Dockwrath did interfere, and +although Mr. Mason did encourage him. On the eve of the trial he went +down to Alston with Kenneby and Bolster; and Mr. Moulder, at the +express instance of Kenneby, accompanied them.</p> + +<p>"What can I do? I can't stop the fellow's gab," Moulder had said. But +Kenneby pleaded hard that some friend might be near him in the day of +his trouble, and Moulder at last consented.</p> + +<p>"I wish it was me," Mrs. Smiley had said, when they talked the matter +over in Great St. Helens; "I'd let the barrister know what was what +when he came to knock me about." Kenneby wished it also, with all his +heart.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason went down by the same train, but he travelled by the first +class. Dockwrath, who was now holding his head up, would have gone +with him, had he not thought it better to remain with Kenneby. "He +might jump out of the carriage and destroy himself," he said to Mr. +Mason.</p> + +<p>"If he had any of the feelings of an Englishman within his breast," +said Mason, "he would be anxious to give assistance towards the +punishment of such a criminal as that."</p> + +<p>"He has only the feelings of a tomtit," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>Lodgings had been taken for the two chief witnesses together, and +Moulder and Dockwrath shared the accommodation with them. As they sat +down to tea together, these two gentlemen doubtless felt that Bridget +Bolster was not exactly fitting company for them. But the necessities +of an assize week, and of such a trial as this, level much of these +distinctions, and they were both prepared to condescend and become +affable.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Bolster, and how do you find yourself?" asked Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>Bridget was a solid, square-looking woman, somewhat given to flesh, +and now not very quick in her movements. But the nature of her past +life had given to her a certain amount of readiness, and an absence +of that dread of her fellow-creatures, which so terribly afflicted +poor Kenneby. And then also she was naturally not a stupid woman, or +one inclined to be muddle-headed. Perhaps it would be too much to say +that she was generally intelligent, but what she did understand, she +understood thoroughly.</p> + +<p>"Pretty well, I thank you, Mr. Dockwrath. I sha'n't be sorry to have +a bit of something to my tea."</p> + +<p>Bridget Bolster perfectly understood that she was to be well fed when +thus brought out for work in her country's service. To have +everything that she wanted to eat and drink at places of public +entertainment, and then to have the bills paid for her behind her +back, was to Bridget Bolster the summit of transitory human bliss.</p> + +<p>"And you shall have something to your tea," said Dockwrath. "What's +it to be?"</p> + +<p>"A steak's as good as anything at these places," suggested Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Or some ham and eggs," suggested Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Kidneys is nice," said Bridget.</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Kenneby?" asked Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing to me," said Kenneby; "I have no appetite. I think +I'll take a little brandy-and-water."</p> + +<p>Mr. Moulder possessed the most commanding spirit, and the steak was +ordered. They then made themselves as comfortable as circumstances +would admit, and gradually fell into a general conversation about the +trial. It had been understood among them since they first came +together, that as a matter of etiquette the witnesses were not to be +asked what they had to say. Kenneby was not to divulge his facts in +plain language, nor Bridget Bolster those which belonged to her; but +it was open to them all to take a general view of the matter, and +natural that at the present moment they should hardly be able to +speak of anything else. And there was a very divided opinion on the +subject in dispute; Dockwrath, of course, expressing a strong +conviction in favour of a verdict of guilty, and Moulder being as +certain of an acquittal. At first Moulder had been very unwilling to +associate with Dockwrath; for he was a man who maintained his +animosities long within his breast; but Dockwrath on this occasion +was a great man, and there was some slight reflection of greatness on +the associates of Dockwrath; it was only by the assistance of +Dockwrath that a place could be obtained within the court, and, upon +the whole, it became evident to Moulder that during such a crisis as +this the society of Dockwrath must be endured.</p> + +<p>"They can't do anything to one if one do one's best?" said Kenneby, +who was sitting apart from the table while the others were eating.</p> + +<p>"Of course they can't," said Dockwrath, who wished to inspirit the +witnesses on his own side.</p> + +<p>"It ain't what they do, but what they say," said Moulder; "and then +everybody is looking at you. I remember a case when I was young on +the road; it was at Nottingham. There had been some sugars delivered, +and the rats had got at it. I'm blessed if they didn't ask me +backwards and forwards so often that I forgot whether they was +seconds or thirds, though I'd sold the goods myself. And then the +lawyer said he'd have me prosecuted for perjury. Well, I was that +frightened, I could not stand in the box. I ain't so green now by a +good deal."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you're not, Mr. Moulder," said Bridget, who well understood +the class to which Moulder belonged.</p> + +<p>"After that I met that lawyer in the street, and was ashamed to look +him in the face. I'm blessed if he didn't come up and shake hands +with me, and tell me that he knew all along that his client hadn't a +leg to stand on. Now I call that beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Beautiful!" said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. He fought that battle just as if he was sure of winning, +though he knew he was going to lose. Give me the man that can fight a +losing battle. Anybody can play whist with four by honours in his own +hands."</p> + +<p>"I don't object to four by honours either," said Dockwrath; "and +that's the game we are going to play to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And lose the rubber after all," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm blessed if we do, Mr. Moulder. If I know anything of my own +<span class="nowrap">profession—"</span></p> + +<p>"Humph!" ejaculated Moulder.</p> + +<p>"And I shouldn't be here in such a case as this if I didn't;—but if +I do, Lady Mason has no more chance of escape than—than—than that +bit of muffin has." And as he spoke the savoury morsel in question +disappeared from the fingers of the commercial traveller.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two Moulder could not answer him. The portion of food +in question was the last on his plate; it had been considerable in +size, and required attention in mastication. Then the remaining gravy +had to be picked up on the blade of the knife, and the particles of +pickles collected and disposed of by the same process. But when all +this had been well done, Moulder +<span class="nowrap">replied—</span></p> + +<p>"That may be your opinion, Mr. Dockwrath, and I dare say you may know +what you're about."</p> + +<p>"Well; I rather think I do, Mr. Moulder."</p> + +<p>"Mine's different. Now when one gentleman thinks one thing and +another thinks another, there's nothing for it in my mind but for +each gentleman to back his own. That's about the ticket in this +country, I believe."</p> + +<p>"That's just as a gentleman may feel disposed," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"No it ain't. What's the use of a man having an opinion if he won't +back it? He's bound to back it, or else he should give way, and +confess he ain't so sure about it as he said he was. There's no +coming to an end if you don't do that. Now there's a ten-pound note," +and Moulder produced that amount of the root of all evil; "I'll put +that in John Kenneby's hands, and do you cover it." And then he +looked as though there were no possible escape from the proposition +which he had made.</p> + +<p>"I decline to have anything to do with it," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Gammon," said Moulder; "two ten-pound notes won't burn a hole in +your pocket."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I should be asked a question about it to-morrow; where +should I be then?"</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Kenneby," said Dockwrath; "I'm not going +to bet."</p> + +<p>"You ain't, ain't you?" said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Mr. Moulder. If you understood professional matters a +little better, you'd know that a professional gentleman couldn't make +a bet as to a case partly in his own hands without very great +impropriety." And Dockwrath gathered himself up, endeavouring to +impress a sense of his importance on the two witnesses, even should +he fail of doing so upon Mr. Moulder.</p> + +<p>Moulder repocketed his ten-pound note, and laughed with a long, low +chuckle. According to his idea of things, he had altogether got the +better of the attorney upon that subject. As he himself put it so +plainly, what criterion is there by which a man can test the validity +of his own opinion if he be not willing to support it by a bet? A man +is bound to do so, or else to give way and apologise. For many years +he had insisted upon this in commercial rooms as a fundamental law in +the character and conduct of gentlemen, and never yet had anything +been said to him to show that in such a theory he was mistaken.</p> + +<p>During all this Bridget Bolster sat there much delighted. It was not +necessary to her pleasure that she should say much herself. There she +was seated in the society of gentlemen and of men of the world, with +a cup of tea beside her, and the expectation of a little drop of +something warm afterwards. What more could the world offer to her, or +what more had the world to offer to anybody? As far as her feelings +went she did not care if Lady Mason were tried every month in the +year! Not that her feelings towards Lady Mason were cruel. It was +nothing to her whether Lady Mason should be convicted or acquitted. +But it was much to her to sit quietly on her chair and have nothing +to do, to eat and drink of the best, and be made much of; and it was +very much to her to hear the conversation of her betters.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Dockwrath breakfasted by appointment with +Mr. Mason,—promising, however, that he would return to his friends +whom he left behind him, and introduce them into the court in proper +time. As I have before hinted, Mr. Mason's confidence in Dockwrath +had gone on increasing day by day since they had first met each other +at Groby Park, till he now wished that he had altogether taken the +advice of the Hamworth attorney and put this matter entirely into his +hands. By degrees Joseph Mason had learned to understand and +thoroughly to appreciate the strong points in his own case; and now +he was so fully convinced of the truth of those surmises which +Dockwrath had been the first to make, that no amount of contrary +evidence could have shaken him. And why had not Round and Crook found +this out when the matter was before investigated? Why had they +prevented him from appealing to the Lord Chancellor when, through +their own carelessness, the matter had gone against him in the +inferior court? And why did they now, even in these latter days, when +they were driven to reopen the case by the clearness of the evidence +submitted to them,—why did they even now wound his ears, irritate +his temper, and oppose the warmest feelings of his heart by +expressing pity for this wicked criminal, whom it was their bounden +duty to prosecute to the very utmost? Was it not by their fault that +Orley Farm had been lost to him for the last twenty years? And yet +young Round had told him, with the utmost composure, that it would be +useless for him to look for any of those moneys which should have +accrued to him during all those years! After what had passed, young +Round should have been anxious to grind Lucius Mason into powder, and +make money of his very bones! Must he not think, when he considered +all these things, that Round and Crook had been wilfully dishonest to +him, and that their interest had been on the side of Lady Mason? He +did so think at last, under the beneficent tutelage of his new +adviser, and had it been possible would have taken the case out of +the hands of Round and Crook even during the week before the trial.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't do it now," Dockwrath had said, in his triumph. "If we +did, the whole thing would be delayed. But they shall be so watched +that they shall not be able to throw the thing over. I've got them in +a vice, Mr. Mason; and I'll hold them so tight that they must convict +her whether they will or no."</p> + +<p>And the nature and extent of Mr. Dockwrath's reward had been already +settled. When Lucius Mason should be expelled from Orley Farm with +ignominy, he, Dockwrath, should become the tenant. The very rent was +settled with the understanding that it should be remitted for the +first year. It would be pleasant to him to have back his two fields +in this way;—his two fields, and something else beyond! It may be +remembered that Lucius Mason had once gone to his office insulting +him. It would now be his turn to visit Lucius Mason at his domicile. +He was disposed to think that such visit would be made by him with +more effect than had attended that other.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, we're all right," he said, as he shook hands with Mr. +Mason of Groby; "there's no screw loose that I can find."</p> + +<p>"And will that man be able to speak?" Mr. Mason was alluding to John +Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"I think he will, as corroborating the woman Bolster. That's all we +shall want. We shall put up the woman first; that is, after I have +done. I don't think they'll make much of her, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"They can't make her say that she signed two deeds if she is willing +to tell the truth. There's no danger, you think, that she's been +tampered with,—that she has taken money."</p> + +<p>"No, no; there's been nothing of that."</p> + +<p>"They'd do anything, you know," said Mr. Mason. "Think of such a man +as Solomon Aram! He's been used to it all his life, you know."</p> + +<p>"They could not do it, Mr. Mason; I've been too sharp on them. And I +tell you what,—they know it now. There isn't one of them that +doesn't know we shall get a verdict." And then for a few minutes +there was silence between the two friends.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what, Dockwrath," said Mr. Mason, after a while; "I've +so set my heart upon this—upon getting justice at last—that I do +think it would kill me if I were to be beaten. I do, indeed. I've +known this, you know, all my life; and think what I've felt! For +twenty-two years, Dockwrath! By +<span class="nowrap">——!</span> +in all that I have read I don't +think I ever heard of such a hardship! That she should have robbed me +for two-and-twenty years!—And now they say that she will be +imprisoned for twelve months!"</p> + +<p>"She'll get more than that, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"I know what would have been done to her thirty years ago, when the +country was in earnest about such matters. What did they do to +Fauntleroy?"</p> + +<p>"Things are changed since then, ain't they?" said Dockwrath, with a +laugh. And then he went to look up his flock, and take them into +court. "I'll meet you in the hall, Mr. Mason, in twenty minutes from +this time."</p> + +<p>And so the play was beginning on each side.</p> + + +<p><a name="c68" id="c68"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXVIII.</h4> +<h3>THE FIRST DAY OF THE TRIAL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>And now the judge was there on the bench, the barristers and the +attorneys were collected, the prisoner was seated in their presence, +and the trial was begun. As is usual in cases of much public moment, +when a person of mark is put upon his purgation, or the offence is +one which has attracted notice, a considerable amount of time was +spent in preliminaries. But we, who are not bound by the necessities +under which the court laboured, will pass over these somewhat +rapidly. The prisoner was arraigned on the charge of perjury, and +pleaded "not guilty" in a voice which, though low, was audible to all +the court. At that moment the hum of voices had stayed itself, and +the two small words, spoken in a clear, silver tone, reached the ears +of all that then were there assembled. Some had surmised it to be +possible that she would at the last moment plead guilty, but such +persons had not known Lady Mason. And then by slow degrees a jury was +sworn, a considerable number of jurors having been set aside at the +instance of Lady Mason's counsel. Mr. Aram had learned to what part +of the county each man belonged, and upon his instructions those who +came from the neighbourhood of Hamworth were passed over.</p> + +<p>The comparative lightness of the offence divested the commencement of +the trial of much of that importance and apparent dignity which +attach themselves to most celebrated criminal cases. The prisoner was +not bidden to look upon the juror, nor the juror to look upon the +prisoner, as though a battle for life and death were to be fought +between them. A true bill of perjury had come down to the court from +the grand jury, but the court officials could not bring themselves on +such an occasion to open the case with all that solemnity and +deference to the prisoner which they would have exhibited had she +been charged with murdering her old husband. Nor was it even the same +as though she had been accused of forgery. Though forgery be not now +a capital crime, it was so within our memories, and there is still a +certain grandeur in the name. But perjury sounds small and petty, and +it was not therefore till the trial had advanced a stage or two that +it assumed that importance which it afterwards never lost. That this +should be so cut Mr. Mason of Groby to the very soul. Even Mr. +Dockwrath had been unable to make him understand that his chance of +regaining the property was under the present circumstances much +greater than it would have been had Lady Mason been arraigned for +forgery. He would not believe that the act of forgery might possibly +not have been proved. Could she have been first whipped through the +street for the misdemeanour, and then hung for the felony, his spirit +would not have been more than sufficiently appeased.</p> + +<p>The case was opened by one Mr. Steelyard, the junior counsel for the +prosecution; but his work on this occasion was hardly more than +formal. He merely stated the nature of the accusation against Lady +Mason, and the issue which the jury were called upon to try. Then got +up Sir Richard Leatherham, the solicitor-general, and at great length +and with wonderful perspicuity explained all the circumstances of the +case, beginning with the undoubted will left by Sir Joseph Mason, the +will independently of the codicil, and coming down gradually to the +discovery of that document in Mr. Dockwrath's office, which led to +the surmise that the signature of those two witnesses had been +obtained, not to a codicil to a will, but to a deed of another +character. In doing this Sir Richard did not seem to lean very +heavily upon Lady Mason, nor did he say much as to the wrongs +suffered by Mr. Mason of Groby. When he alluded to Mr. Dockwrath and +his part in these transactions, he paid no compliment to the Hamworth +attorney; but in referring to his learned friend on the other side he +protested his conviction that the defence of Lady Mason would be +conducted not only with zeal, but in that spirit of justice and truth +for which the gentlemen opposite to him were so conspicuous in their +profession. All this was wormwood to Joseph Mason; but nevertheless, +though Sir Richard was so moderate as to his own side, and so +courteous to that opposed to him, he made it very clear before he sat +down that if those witnesses were prepared to swear that which he was +instructed they would swear, either they must be utterly unworthy of +credit—a fact which his learned friends opposite were as able to +elicit as any gentlemen who had ever graced the English bar—or else +the prisoner now on her trial must have been guilty of the crime of +perjury now imputed to her.</p> + +<p>Of all those in court now attending to the proceedings, none listened +with greater care to the statement made by Sir Richard than Joseph +Mason, Lady Mason herself, and Felix Graham. To Joseph Mason it +appeared that his counsel was betraying him. Sir Richard and Round +were in a boat together and were determined to throw him over yet +once again. Had it been possible he would have stopped the +proceedings, and in this spirit he spoke to Dockwrath. To Joseph +Mason it would have seemed right that Sir Richard should begin by +holding up Lady Mason to the scorn and indignation of the twelve +honest jurymen before him. Mr. Dockwrath, whose intelligence was +keener in such matters, endeavoured to make his patron understand +that he was wrong; but in this he did not succeed. "If he lets her +escape me," said Mason, "I think it will be the death of me."</p> + +<p>To Lady Mason it appeared as though the man who was now showing to +all the crowd there assembled the chief scenes of her past life, had +been present and seen everything that she had ever done. He told the +jury of all who had been present in the room when that true deed had +been signed; he described how old Usbech had sat there incapable of +action; how that affair of the partnership had been brought to a +close; how those two witnesses had thereupon appended their name to a +deed; how those witnesses had been deceived, or partially deceived, +as to their own signatures when called upon to give their testimony +at a former trial; and he told them also that a comparison of the +signatures on the codicil with those signatures which were +undoubtedly true would lead an expert and professional judge of +writing to tell them that the one set of signatures or the other must +be forgeries. Then he went on to describe how the pretended codicil +must in truth have been executed—speaking of the solitary room in +which the bad work had been done, of the midnight care and terrible +solicitude for secrecy. And then, with apparent mercy, he attempted +to mitigate the iniquity of the deed by telling the jury that it had +not been done by that lady with any view to self-aggrandisement, but +had been brought about by a lamentable, infatuated, mad idea that she +might in this way do that justice to her child which that child's +father had refused to do at her instance. He also, when he told of +this, spoke of Rebekah and her son; and Mrs. Orme when she heard him +did not dare to raise her eyes from the table. Lucius Mason, when he +had listened to this, lifted his clenched hand on high, and brought +it down with loud violence on the raised desk in front of him. "I +know the merits of that young man," said Sir Richard, looking at him; +"I am told that he is a gentleman, good, industrious, and high +spirited. I wish he were not here; I wish with all my heart he were +not here." And then a tear, an absolute and true drop of briny +moisture, stood in the eye of that old experienced lawyer. Lucius, +when he heard this, for a moment covered his face. It was but for a +moment, and then he looked up again, turning his eyes slowly round +the entire court, and as he did so grasping his mother by the arm. +"He'll look in a different sort of fashion by to-morrow evening, I +guess," said Dockwrath into his neighbour's ear. During all this time +no change came over Lady Mason's face. When she felt her son's hand +upon her arm her muscles had moved involuntarily; but she recovered +herself at the moment, and then went on enduring it all with absolute +composure. Nevertheless it seemed to her as though that man who stood +before her, telling his tale so calmly, had read the secrets of her +very soul. What chance could there be for her when everything was +thus known?</p> + +<p>To every word that was spoken Felix Graham gave all his mind. While +Mr. Chaffanbrass sat fidgeting, or reading, or dreaming, caring +nothing for all that his learned brother might say, Graham listened +to every fact that was stated, and to every surmise that was +propounded. To him the absolute truth in this affair was matter of +great moment, but yet he felt that he dreaded to know the truth. +Would it not be better for him that he should not know it? But yet he +listened, and his active mind, intent on the various points as they +were evolved, would not restrain itself from forming opinions. With +all his ears he listened, and as he did so Mr. Chaffanbrass, amidst +his dreaming, reading, and fidgeting, kept an attentive eye upon him. +To him it was a matter of course that Lady Mason should be guilty. +Had she not been guilty, he, Mr. Chaffanbrass, would not have been +required. Mr. Chaffanbrass well understood that the defence of +injured innocence was no part of his mission.</p> + +<p>Then at last Sir Richard Leatherham brought to a close his long tale, +and the examination of the witnesses was commenced. By this time it +was past two o'clock, and the judge went out of court for a few +minutes to refresh himself with a glass of wine and a sandwich. And +now young Peregrine Orme, in spite of all obstacles, made his way up +to his mother and led her also out of court. He took his mother's +arm, and Lady Mason followed with her son, and so they made their way +into the small outer room which they had first entered. Not a word +was said between them on the subject which was filling the minds of +all of them. Lucius stood silent and absorbed while Peregrine offered +refreshment to both the ladies. Lady Mason, doing as she was bid, +essayed to eat and to drink. What was it to her whether she ate and +drank or was a-hungered? To maintain by her demeanour the idea in +men's minds that she might still possibly be innocent—that was her +work. And therefore, in order that those two young men might still +think so, she ate and drank as she was bidden.</p> + +<p>On their return to court Mr. Steelyard got up to examine Dockwrath, +who was put into the box as the first witness. The attorney produced +certain documents supposed to be of relevancy, which he had found +among his father-in-law's papers, and then described how he had found +that special document which gave him to understand that Bolster and +Kenneby had been used as witnesses to a certain signature on that +14th of July. He had known all the circumstances of the old trial, +and hence his suspicions had been aroused. Acting upon this he had +gone immediately down to Mr. Mason in Yorkshire, and the present +trial was the result of his care and intelligence. This was in effect +the purport of his direct evidence, and then he was handed over to +the tender mercies of the other side.</p> + +<p>On the other side Mr. Chaffanbrass rose to begin the battle. Mr. +Furnival had already been engaged in sundry of those preliminary +skirmishes which had been found necessary before the fight had been +commenced in earnest, and therefore the turn had now come for Mr. +Chaffanbrass. All this, however, had been arranged beforehand, and it +had been agreed that if possible Dockwrath should be made to fall +into the clutches of the Old Bailey barrister. It was pretty to see +the meek way in which Mr. Chaffanbrass rose to his work; how gently +he smiled, how he fidgeted about a few of the papers as though he +were not at first quite master of his situation, and how he arranged +his old wig in a modest, becoming manner, bringing it well forward +over his forehead. His voice also was low and soft;—so low that it +was hardly heard through the whole court, and persons who had come +far to listen to him began to feel themselves disappointed. And it +was pretty also to see how Dockwrath armed himself for the +encounter,—how he sharpened his teeth, as it were, and felt the +points of his own claws. The little devices of Mr. Chaffanbrass did +not deceive him. He knew what he had to expect; but his pluck was +good, as is the pluck of a terrier when a mastiff prepares to attack +him. Let Mr. Chaffanbrass do his worst; that would all be over in an +hour or so. But when Mr. Chaffanbrass had done his worst, Orley Farm +would still remain.</p> + +<p>"I believe you were a tenant of Lady Mason's at one time, Mr. +Dockwrath?" asked the barrister.</p> + +<p>"I was; and she turned me out. If you will allow me I will tell you +how all that happened, and how I was angered by the usage I +received." Mr. Dockwrath was determined to make a clean breast of it, +and rather go before his tormentor in telling all that there was to +be told, than lag behind as an unwilling witness.</p> + +<p>"Do," said Mr. Chaffanbrass. "That will be very kind of you. When I +have learned all that, and one other little circumstance of the same +nature, I do not think I shall want to trouble you any more." And +then Mr. Dockwrath did tell it all;—how he had lost the two fields, +how he had thus become very angry, how this anger had induced him at +once to do that which he had long thought of doing,—search, namely, +among the papers of old Mr. Usbech, with the view of ascertaining +what might be the real truth as regarded that doubtful codicil.</p> + +<p>"And you found what you searched for, Mr. Dockwrath?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"Without very much delay, apparently?"</p> + +<p>"I was two or three days over the work."</p> + +<p>"But you found exactly what you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"I found what I expected to find."</p> + +<p>"And that, although all those papers had been subjected to the +scrutiny of Messrs. Round and Crook at the time of that other trial +twenty years ago?"</p> + +<p>"I was sharper than them, Mr. Chaffanbrass,—a deal sharper."</p> + +<p>"So I perceive," said Chaffanbrass, and now he had pushed back his +wig a little, and his eyes had begun to glare with an ugly red light. +"Yes," he said, "it will be long, I think, before my old friends +Round and Crook are as sharp as you are, Mr. Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word I agree with you, Mr. Chaffanbrass."</p> + +<p>"Yes; Round and Crook are babies to you, Mr. Dockwrath;" and now Mr. +Chaffanbrass began to pick at his chin with his finger, as he was +accustomed to do when he warmed to his subject. "Babies to you! You +have had a good deal to do with them, I should say, in getting up +this case."</p> + +<p>"I have had something to do with them."</p> + +<p>"And very much they must have enjoyed your society, Mr. Dockwrath! +And what wrinkles they must have learned from you! What a pleasant +oasis it must have been in the generally somewhat dull course of +their monotonous though profitable business! I quite envy Round and +Crook having you alongside of them in their inner council-chamber."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about that, sir."</p> + +<p>"No; I dare say you don't;—but they'll remember it. Well, when you'd +turned over your father-in-law's papers for three days you found what +you looked for?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did."</p> + +<p>"You had been tolerably sure that you would find it before you began, +eh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I had expected that something would turn up."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt you did,—and something has turned up. That +gentleman sitting next to you there,—who is he?"</p> + +<p>"Joseph Mason, Esquire, of Groby Park," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"So I thought. It is he that is to have Orley Farm, if Lady Mason and +her son should lose it?"</p> + +<p>"In that case he would be the heir."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. He would be the heir. How pleasant it must be to you to +find yourself on such affectionate terms with—the heir! And when he +comes into his inheritance, who is to be tenant? Can you tell us +that?"</p> + +<p>Dockwrath here paused for a moment. Not that he hesitated as to +telling the whole truth. He had fully made up his mind to do so, and +to brazen the matter out, declaring that of course he was to be +considered worthy of his reward. But there was that in the manner and +eye of Chaffanbrass which stopped him for a moment, and his enemy +immediately took advantage of this hesitation. "Come sir," said he, +"out with it. If I don't get it from you, I shall from somebody else. +You've been very plain-spoken hitherto. Don't let the jury think that +your heart is failing you at last."</p> + +<p>"There is no reason why my heart should fail me," said Dockwrath, in +an angry tone.</p> + +<p>"Is there not? I must differ from you there, Mr. Dockwrath. The heart +of any man placed in such a position as that you now hold must, I +think, fail him. But never mind that. Who is to be the tenant of +Orley Farm when my client has been deprived of it?"</p> + +<p>"I am."</p> + +<p>"Just so. You were turned out from those two fields when young Mason +came home from Germany?"</p> + +<p>"I was."</p> + +<p>"You immediately went to work and discovered this document?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"You put up Joseph Mason to this trial?"</p> + +<p>"I told him my opinion."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And if the result be successful, you are to be put in +possession of the land."</p> + +<p>"I shall become Mr. Mason's tenant at Orley Farm."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will become Mr. Mason's tenant at Orley Farm. Upon my word, +Mr. Dockwrath, you have made my work to-day uncommonly easy for +me,—uncommonly easy. I don't know that I have anything else to ask +you." And then Mr. Chaffanbrass, as he sat down, looked up to the +jury with an expression of countenance which was in itself worth any +fee that could be paid to him for that day's work. His face spoke as +plain as a face could speak, and what his face said was this: "After +that, gentlemen of the jury, very little more can be necessary. You +now see the motives of our opponents, and the way in which those +motives have been allowed to act. We, who are altogether upon the +square in what we are doing, desire nothing more than that." All +which Mr. Chaffanbrass said by his look, his shrug, and his gesture, +much more eloquently than he could have done by the use of any words.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath, as he left the box and went back to his seat—in doing +which he had to cross the table in the middle of the +court—endeavoured to look and move as though all were right with +him. He knew that the eyes of the court were on him, and especially +the eyes of the judge and jury. He knew also how men's minds are +unconsciously swayed by small appearances. He endeavoured therefore +to seem indifferent; but in doing so he swaggered, and was conscious +that he swaggered; and he felt as he gained his seat that Mr. +Chaffanbrass had been too much for him.</p> + +<p>Then one Mr. Torrington from London was examined by Sir Richard +Leatherham, and he proved, apparently beyond all doubt, that a +certain deed which he produced was genuine. That deed bore the same +date as the codicil which was now questioned, had been executed at +Orley Farm by old Sir Joseph, and bore the signatures of John Kenneby +and Bridget Bolster as witnesses. Sir Richard, holding the deeds in +his hands, explained to the jury that he did not at the present stage +of the proceedings ask them to take it as proved that those names +were the true signatures of the two persons indicated. ("I should +think not," said Mr. Furnival, in a loud voice.) But he asked them to +satisfy themselves that the document as now existing purported to +bear those two signatures. It would be for them to judge, when the +evidence brought before them should be complete, whether or no that +deed were a true document. And then the deed was handed up into the +jury-box, and the twelve jurymen all examined it. The statement made +by this Mr. Torrington was very simple. It had become his business to +know the circumstances of the late partnership between Mason and +Martock, and these circumstances he explained. Then Sir Richard +handed him over to be cross-examined.</p> + +<p>It was now Graham's turn to begin his work; but as he rose to do so +his mind misgave him. Not a syllable that this Torrington had said +appeared to him to be unworthy of belief. The man had not uttered a +word, of the truth of which Graham did not feel himself positively +assured; and, more than that,—the man had clearly told all that was +within him to tell, all that it was well that the jury should hear in +order that they might thereby be assisted in coming to a true +decision. It had been hinted in his hearing, both by Chaffanbrass and +Aram, that this man was probably in league with Dockwrath, and Aram +had declared with a sneer that he was a puzzle-pated old fellow. He +might be puzzle-pated, and had already shown that he was bashful and +unhappy in his present position; but he had shown also, as Graham +thought, that he was anxious to tell the truth.</p> + +<p>And, moreover, Graham had listened with all his mind to the +cross-examination of Dockwrath, and he was filled with disgust—with +disgust, not so much at the part played by the attorney as at that +played by the barrister. As Graham regarded the matter, what had the +iniquities and greed of Dockwrath to do with it? Had reason been +shown why the statement made by Dockwrath was in itself unworthy of +belief,—that that statement was in its own essence weak,—then the +character of the man making it might fairly affect its credibility. +But presuming that statement to be wrong,—presuming that it was +corroborated by other evidence, how could it be affected by any +amount of villainy on the part of Dockwrath? All that Chaffanbrass +had done or attempted was to prove that Dockwrath had had his own end +to serve. Who had ever doubted it? But not a word had been said, not +a spark of evidence elicited, to show that the man had used a +falsehood to further those views of his. Of all this the mind of +Felix Graham had been full; and now, as he rose to take his own share +of the work, his wit was at work rather in opposition to Lady Mason +than on her behalf.</p> + +<p>This Torrington was a little old man, and Graham had watched how his +hands had trembled when Sir Richard first addressed him. But Sir +Richard had been very kind,—as was natural to his own witness, and +the old man had gradually regained his courage. But now as he turned +his face round to the side where he knew that he might expect to find +an enemy, that tremor again came upon him, and the stick which he +held in his hand was heard as it tapped gently against the side of +the witness-box. Graham, as he rose to his work, saw that Mr. +Chaffanbrass had fixed his eye upon him, and his courage rose the +higher within him as he felt the gaze of the man whom he so much +disliked. Was it within the compass of his heart to bully an old man +because such a one as Chaffanbrass desired it of him? By heaven, no!</p> + +<p>He first asked Mr. Torrington his age, and having been told that he +was over seventy, Graham went on to assure him that nothing which +could be avoided should be said to disturb his comfort. "And now, Mr. +Torrington," he asked, "will you tell me whether you are a friend of +Mr. Dockwrath's, or have had any acquaintance with him previous to +the affairs of this trial?" This question he repeated in various +forms, but always in a mild voice, and without the appearance of any +disbelief in the answers which were given to him. All these questions +Torrington answered by a plain negative. He had never seen Dockwrath +till the attorney had come to him on the matter of that partnership +deed. He had never eaten or drunk with him, nor had there ever been +between them any conversation of a confidential nature. "That will +do, Mr. Torrington," said Graham; and as he sat down, he again turned +round and looked Mr. Chaffanbrass full in the face.</p> + +<p>After that nothing further of interest was done that day. A few +unimportant witnesses were examined on legal points, and then the +court was adjourned.</p> + + +<p><a name="c69" id="c69"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXIX.</h4> +<h3>THE TWO JUDGES.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Felix Graham as he left the Alston court-house on the close of the +first day of the trial was not in a happy state of mind. He did not +actually accuse himself of having omitted any duty which he owed to +his client; but he did accuse himself of having undertaken a duty for +which he felt himself to be manifestly unfit. Would it not have been +better, as he said to himself, for that poor lady to have had any +other possible advocate than himself? Then as he passed out in the +company of Mr. Furnival and Mr. Chaffanbrass, the latter looked at +him with a scorn which he did not know how to return. In his heart he +could do so; and should words be spoken between them on the subject, +he would be well able and willing enough to defend himself. But had +he attempted to bandy looks with Mr. Chaffanbrass, it would have +seemed even to himself that he was proclaiming his resolution to put +himself in opposition to his colleagues.</p> + +<p>He felt as though he were engaged to fight a battle in which truth +and justice, nay heaven itself must be against him. How can a man put +his heart to the proof of an assertion in the truth of which he +himself has no belief? That though guilty this lady should be treated +with the utmost mercy compatible with the law;—for so much, had her +guilt stood forward as acknowledged, he could have pleaded with all +the eloquence that was in him. He could still pity her, sympathise +with her, fight for her on such ground as that; but was it possible +that he, believing her to be false, should stand up before the crowd +assembled in that court, and use such intellect as God had given him +in making others think that the false and the guilty one was true and +innocent, and that those accusers were false and guilty whom he knew +to be true and innocent?</p> + +<p>It had been arranged that Baron Maltby should stay that night at +Noningsby. The brother-judges therefore occupied the Noningsby +carriage together, and Graham was driven back in a dog-cart by +Augustus Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Well, old boy," said Augustus, "you did not soil your conscience +much by bullying that fellow."</p> + +<p>"No, I did not," said Graham; and then he was silent.</p> + +<p>"Chaffanbrass made an uncommonly ugly show of the Hamworth attorney," +said Augustus, after a pause; but to this Graham at first made no +answer.</p> + +<p>"If I were on the jury," continued the other, "I would not believe a +single word that came from that fellow's mouth, unless it were fully +supported by other testimony. Nor will the jury believe him."</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Staveley," said Graham, "you will oblige me greatly +in this matter if you will not speak to me of the trial till it is +over."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"No; don't do that. Nothing can be more natural than that you and I +should discuss it together in all its bearings. But there are +reasons, which I will explain to you afterwards, why I would rather +not do so."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Augustus. "I'll not say another word."</p> + +<p>"And for my part, I will get through the work as well as I may." And +then they both sat silent in the gig till they came to the corner of +Noningsby wall.</p> + +<p>"And is that other subject tabooed also?" said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"What other subject?"</p> + +<p>"That as to which we said something when you were last +here,—touching my sister Madeline."</p> + +<p>Graham felt that his face was on fire, but he did not know how to +answer. "In that it is for you to decide whether or no there should +be silence between us," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"I certainly do not wish that there should be any secret between us," +said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"Then there shall be none. It is my intention to make an offer to her +before I leave Noningsby. I can assure you for your satisfaction, +that my hopes do not run very high."</p> + +<p>"For my satisfaction, Felix! I don't know why you should suppose me +to be anxious that you should fail." And as he so spoke he stopped +his horse at the hall-door, and there was no time for further speech.</p> + +<p>"Papa has been home a quarter of an hour," said Madeline, meeting +them in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he had the pull of us by having his carriage ready," said her +brother. "We had to wait for the ostler."</p> + +<p>"He says that if you are not ready in ten minutes he will go to +dinner without you. Mamma and I are dressed." And as she spoke she +turned round with a smile to Felix, making him feel that both she and +her father were treating him as though he were one of the family.</p> + +<p>"Ten minutes will be quite enough for me," said he.</p> + +<p>"If the governor only would sit down," said Augustus, "it would be +all right. But that's just what he won't do. Mad, do send somebody to +help me to unpack." And then they all bustled away, so that the pair +of judges might not be kept waiting for their food.</p> + +<p>Felix Graham hurried up stairs, three steps at a time, as though all +his future success at Noningsby depended on his being down in the +drawing-room within the period of minutes stipulated by the judge. As +he dressed himself with the utmost rapidity, thinking perhaps not so +much as he should have done of his appearance in the eyes of his +lady-love, he endeavoured to come to some resolve as to the task +which was before him. How was he to find an opportunity of speaking +his mind to Madeline, if, during the short period of his sojourn at +Noningsby, he left the house every morning directly after breakfast, +and returned to it in the evening only just in time for dinner?</p> + +<p>When he entered the drawing-room both the judges were there, as was +also Lady Staveley and Madeline. Augustus alone was wanting. "Ring +the bell, Graham," the judge said, as Felix took his place on the +corner of the rug. "Augustus will be down about supper-time." And +then the bell was rung and the dinner ordered.</p> + +<p>"Papa ought to remember," said Madeline, "that he got his carriage +first at Alston."</p> + +<p>"I heard the wheels of the gig," said the judge. "They were just two +minutes after us."</p> + +<p>"I don't think Augustus takes longer than other young men," said Lady +Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Look at Graham there. He can't be supposed to have the use of all +his limbs, for he broke half a dozen of them a month ago; and yet +he's ready. Brother Maltby, give your arm to Lady Staveley. Graham, +if you'll take Madeline, I'll follow alone." He did not call her Miss +Staveley, as Felix specially remarked, and so remarking, pressed the +little hand somewhat closer to his side. It was the first sign of +love he had ever given her, and he feared that some mark of anger +might follow it. There was no return to his pressure;—not the +slightest answer was made with those sweet finger points; but there +was no anger. "Is your arm quite strong again?" she asked him as they +sat down, as soon as the judge's short grace had been uttered.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen minutes to the second," said Augustus, bustling into the +room, "and I think that an unfair advantage has been taken of me. But +what can a juvenile barrister expect in the presence of two judges?" +And then the dinner went on, and a very pleasant little dinner-party +it was.</p> + +<p>Not a word was said, either then or during the evening, or on the +following morning, on that subject which was engrossing so much of +the mind of all of them. Not a word was spoken as to that trial which +was now pending, nor was the name of Lady Mason mentioned. It was +understood even by Madeline that no allusion could with propriety be +made to it in the presence of the judge before whom the cause was now +pending, and the ground was considered too sacred for feet to tread +upon it. Were it not that this feeling is so general an English judge +and English counsellors would almost be forced to subject themselves +in such cases to the close custody which jurymen are called upon to +endure. But, as a rule, good taste and good feeling are as potent as +locks and walls.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Mr. Graham," said Madeline, in that sort of whisper +which a dinner-table allows, "that Mrs. Baker says you have cut her +since you got well."</p> + +<p>"I! I cut one of my very best friends! How can she say anything so +untrue? If I knew where she lived I'd go and pay her a visit after +dinner."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you need do that,—though she has a very snug little +room of her own. You were in it on Christmas-day when we had the +snapdragon,—when you and Marion carried away the dishes."</p> + +<p>"I remember. And she is base enough to say that I have cut her? I did +see her for a moment yesterday, and then I spoke to her."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you should have had a long chat with her. She expects you to +go back over all the old ground, how you were brought in helpless, +how the doctor came to you, and how you took all the messes she +prepared for you like a good boy. I'm afraid, Mr. Graham, you don't +understand old women."</p> + +<p>"Nor young ones either," it was on his tongue to say, but he did not +say it.</p> + +<p>"When I was a young man," said the baron, carrying on some +conversation which had been general at the table, "I never had an +opportunity of breaking my ribs out hunting."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if you had," said Augustus, "you might have used it with +more effect than my friend here, and have deprived the age of one of +its brightest lights, and the bench of one of its most splendid +ornaments."</p> + +<p>"Hear, hear, hear!" said his father.</p> + +<p>"Augustus is coming out in a new character," said his mother.</p> + +<p>"I am heartily obliged to him," said the baron. "But, as I was saying +before, these sort of things never came in my way. If I remember +right, my father would have thought I was mad had I talked of going +out hunting. Did you hunt, Staveley?"</p> + +<p>When the ladies were gone the four lawyers talked about law, though +they kept quite clear of that special trial which was going on at +Alston. Judge Staveley, as we know, had been at the Birmingham +congress; but not so his brother the baron. Baron Maltby, indeed, +thought but little of the Birmingham doings, and was inclined to be a +little hard upon his brother in that he had taken a part in it.</p> + +<p>"I think that the matter is one open to discussion," said the host.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope so," said Graham. "At any rate I have heard no +arguments which ought to make us feel that our mouths are closed."</p> + +<p>"Arguments on such a matter are worth nothing at all," said the +baron. "A man with what is called a logical turn of mind may prove +anything or disprove anything; but he never convinces anybody. On any +matter that is near to a man's heart, he is convinced by the tenour +of his own thoughts as he goes on living, not by the arguments of a +logician, or even by the eloquence of an orator. Talkers are apt to +think that if their listener cannot answer them they are bound to +give way; but non-talkers generally take a very different view of the +subject."</p> + +<p>"But does that go to show that a question should not be ventilated?" +asked Felix.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to be uncivil," said the baron, "but of all words in +the language there is none which I dislike so much as that word +ventilation. A man given to ventilating subjects is worse than a man +who has a mission."</p> + +<p>"Bores of that sort, however," said Graham, "will show themselves +from time to time and are not easily put down. Some one will have a +mission to reform our courts of law, and will do it too."</p> + +<p>"I only hope it may not be in my time," said the baron.</p> + +<p>"I can't go quite so far as that," said the other judge. "But no +doubt we all have the same feeling more or less. I know pretty well +what my friend Graham is driving at."</p> + +<p>"And in your heart you agree with me," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"If you would carry men's heads with you they would do you more good +than their hearts," said the judge. And then as the wine bottles were +stationary, the subject was cut short and they went into the +drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Graham had no opportunity that evening of telling his tale to +Madeline Staveley. The party was too large for such tale-telling or +else not large enough. And then the evening in the drawing-room was +over before it had seemed to begin; and while he was yet hoping that +there might be some turn in his favour, Lady Staveley wished him +good-night, and Madeline of course did the same. As he again pressed +her hand he could not but think how little he had said to her since +he had been in the house, and yet it seemed to him as though that +little had made him more intimate with her than he had ever found +himself before. He had made an attempt to separate himself from the +company by proposing to go and call on Mrs. Baker in her own +quarters; but Madeline had declared it to be too late for such an +expedition, explaining that when Mrs. Baker had no patient on hand +she was accustomed to go early to her bed. In the present instance, +however, she had been wrong, for when Felix reached the door of his +own room, Mrs. Baker was coming out of it.</p> + +<p>"I was just looking if everything was right," said she. "It seems +natural to me to come and look after you, you know."</p> + +<p>"And it is quite as natural to me to be looked after."</p> + +<p>"Is it though? But the worst of you gentlemen when you get well is +that one has done with you. You go away, and then there's no more +about it. I always begrudge to see you get well for that reason."</p> + +<p>"When you have a man in your power you like to keep him there."</p> + +<p>"That's always the way with the women you know. I hope we shall see +one of them tying you by the leg altogether before long."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about that," said Felix, sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you? Well, if you don't I suppose nobody don't. But +nevertheless I did hear a little bird say—eh! Mr. Graham."</p> + +<p>"Those little birds are the biggest liars in the world."</p> + +<p>"Are they now? Well perhaps they are. And how do you think our Miss +Madeline is looking? She wasn't just well for one short time after +you went away."</p> + +<p>"Has she been ill?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not ill; not so that she came into my hands. She's looking +herself again now, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"She is looking, as she always does, uncommonly well."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember how she used to come and say a word to you standing +at the door? Dear heart! I'll be bound now I care more for her than +you do."</p> + +<p>"Do you?" said Graham.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. And then how angry her ladyship was with me,—as +though it were my fault. I didn't do it. Did I, Mr. Graham? But, Lord +love you, what's the use of being angry? My lady ought to have +remembered her own young days, for it was just the same thing with +her. She had her own way, and so will Miss Madeline." And then with +some further inquiries as to his fire, his towels, and his sheets, +Mrs. Baker took herself off.</p> + +<p>Felix Graham had felt a repugnance to taking the gossiping old woman +openly into his confidence, and yet he had almost asked her whether +he might in truth count upon Madeline's love. Such at any rate had +been the tenour of his gossiping; but nevertheless he was by no means +certified. He had the judge's assurance in allowing him to be there; +he had the assurance given to him by Augustus in the few words spoken +to him at the door that evening; and he ought to have known that he +had received sufficient assurance from Madeline herself. But in truth +he knew nothing of the kind. There are men who are much too forward +in believing that they are regarded with favour; but there are others +of whom it may be said that they are as much too backward. The world +hears most of the former, and talks of them the most, but I doubt +whether the latter are not the more numerous.</p> + +<p>The next morning of course there was a hurry and fuss at breakfast in +order that they might get off in time for the courts. The judges were +to take their seats at ten, and therefore it was necessary that they +should sit down to breakfast some time before nine. The achievement +does not seem to be one of great difficulty, but nevertheless it left +no time for lovemaking.</p> + +<p>But for one instant Felix was able to catch Madeline alone in the +breakfast-parlour. "Miss Staveley," said he, "will it be possible +that I should speak to you alone this evening;—for five minutes?"</p> + +<p>"Speak to me alone?" she said, repeating his words; and as she did so +she was conscious that her whole face had become suffused with +colour.</p> + +<p>"Is it too much to ask?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"Then if I leave the dining-room soon after you have done +<span class="nowrap">so—"</span></p> + +<p>"Mamma will be there, you know," she said. Then others came into the +room and he was able to make no further stipulation for the evening.</p> + +<p>Madeline, when she was left alone that morning, was by no means +satisfied with her own behaviour, and accused herself of having been +unnecessarily cold to him. She knew the permission which had been +accorded to him, and she knew also—knew well—what answer would be +given to his request. In her mind the matter was now fixed. She had +confessed to herself that she loved him, and she could not now doubt +of his love to her. Why then should she have answered him with +coldness and doubt? She hated the missishness of young ladies, and +had resolved that when he asked her a plain question she would give +him a plain answer. It was true that the question had not been asked +as yet; but why should she have left him in doubt as to her kindly +feeling?</p> + +<p>"It shall be but for this one day," she said to herself as she sat +alone in her room.</p> + + +<p><a name="c70" id="c70"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXX.</h4> +<h3>HOW AM I TO BEAR IT?<br /> </h3> + + +<p>When the first day's work was over in the court, Lady Mason and Mrs. +Orme kept their seats till the greater part of the crowd had +dispersed, and the two young men, Lucius Mason and Peregrine, +remained with them. Mr. Aram also remained, giving them sundry little +instructions in a low voice as to the manner in which they should go +home and return the next morning,—telling them the hour at which +they must start, and promising that he would meet them at the door of +the court. To all this Mrs. Orme endeavoured to give her best +attention, as though it were of the last importance; but Lady Mason +was apparently much the more collected of the two, and seemed to take +all Mr. Aram's courtesies as though they were a matter of course. +There she sat, still with her veil up, and though all those who had +been assembled there during the day turned their eyes upon her as +they passed out, she bore it all without quailing. It was not that +she returned their gaze, or affected an effrontery in her conduct; +but she was able to endure it without showing that she suffered as +she did so.</p> + +<p>"The carriage is there now," said Mr. Aram, who had left the court +for a minute; "and I think you may get into it quietly." This +accordingly they did, making their way through an avenue of idlers +who still remained that they might look upon the lady who was accused +of having forged her husband's will.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill70" id="ill70"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill70.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill70-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lady Mason leaving the Court." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lady Mason leaving the Court.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill70.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"I will stay with her to-night," whispered Mrs. Orme to her son as +they passed through the court.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you will not come to The Cleeve at all?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-night; not till the trial be over. Do you remain with your +grandfather."</p> + +<p>"I shall be here to-morrow of course to see how you go on."</p> + +<p>"But do not leave your grandfather this evening. Give him my love, +and say that I think it best that I should remain at Orley Farm till +the trial be over. And, Peregrine, if I were you I would not talk to +him much about the trial."</p> + +<p>"But why not?"</p> + +<p>"I will tell you when it is over. But it would only harass him at the +present moment." And then Peregrine handed his mother into the +carriage and took his own way back to The Cleeve.</p> + +<p>As he returned he was bewildered in his mind by what he had heard, +and he also began to feel something like a doubt as to Lady Mason's +innocence. Hitherto his belief in it had been as fixed and assured as +that of her own son. Indeed it had never occurred to him as possible +that she could have done the thing with which she was charged. He had +hated Joseph Mason for suspecting her, and had hated Dockwrath for +his presumed falsehood in pretending to suspect her. But what was he +to think of this question now, after hearing the clear and +dispassionate statement of all the circumstances by the +solicitor-general? Hitherto he had understood none of the particulars +of the case; but now the nature of the accusation had been made +plain, and it was evident to him that at any rate that far-sighted +lawyer believed in the truth of his own statement. Could it be +possible that Lady Mason had forged the will,—that this deed had +been done by his mother's friend, by the woman who had so nearly +become Lady Orme of The Cleeve? The idea was terrible to him as he +rode home, but yet he could not rid himself of it. And if this were +so, was it also possible that his grandfather suspected it? Had that +marriage been stopped by any such suspicion as this? Was it this that +had broken the old man down and robbed him of all his spirit? That +his mother could not have any such suspicion seemed to him to be made +clear by the fact that she still treated Lady Mason as her friend. +And then why had he been specially enjoined not to speak to his +grandfather as to the details of the trial?</p> + +<p>But it was impossible for him to meet Sir Peregrine without speaking +of the trial. When he entered the house, which he did by some back +entrance from the stables, he found his grandfather standing at his +own room door. He had heard the sounds of the horse, and was unable +to restrain his anxiety to learn.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Sir Peregrine, "what has happened?"</p> + +<p>"It is not over as yet. It will last, they say, for three days."</p> + +<p>"But come in, Peregrine;" and he shut the door, anxious rather that +the servants should not witness his own anxiety than that they should +not hear tidings which must now be common to all the world. "They +have begun it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! they have begun it."</p> + +<p>"Well, how far has it gone?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Richard Leatherham told us the accusation they make against her, +and then they examined Dockwrath and one or two others. They have not +got further than that."</p> + +<p>"And the—Lady Mason—how does she bear it?"</p> + +<p>"Very well I should say. She does not seem to be nearly as nervous +now, as she was while staying with us."</p> + +<p>"Ah! indeed. She is a wonderful woman,—a very wonderful woman. So +she bears up? And your mother, Peregrine?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think she likes it."</p> + +<p>"Likes it! Who could like such a task as that?"</p> + +<p>"But she will go through with it."</p> + +<p>"I am sure she will. She will go through with anything that she +undertakes. And—and—the judge said nothing—I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Very little, sir."</p> + +<p>And Sir Peregrine again sat down in his arm-chair as though the work +of conversation were too much for him. But neither did he dare to +speak openly on the subject; and yet there was so much that he was +anxious to know. Do you think she will escape? That was the question +which he longed to ask but did not dare to utter.</p> + +<p>And then, after a while, they dined together. And Peregrine +determined to talk of other things; but it was in vain. While the +servants were in the room nothing was said. The meat was carved and +the plates were handed round, and young Orme ate his dinner; but +there was a constraint upon them both which they were quite unable to +dispel, and at last they gave it up and sat in silence till they were +alone.</p> + +<p>When the door was closed, and they were opposite to each other over +the fire, in the way which was their custom when they two only were +there, Sir Peregrine could restrain his desire no longer. It must be +that his grandson, who had heard all that had passed in court that +day, should have formed some opinion of what was going on,—should +have some idea as to the chance of that battle which was being +fought. He, Sir Peregrine, could not have gone into the court +himself. It would have been impossible for him to show himself there. +But there had been his heart all the day. How had it gone with that +woman whom a few weeks ago he had loved so well that he had regarded +her as his wife?</p> + +<p>"Was your mother very tired?" he said, again endeavouring to draw +near the subject.</p> + +<p>"She did looked fagged while sitting in court."</p> + +<p>"It was a dreadful task for her,—very dreadful."</p> + +<p>"Nothing could have turned her from it," said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"No,—you are right there. Nothing would have turned her from it. She +thought it to be her duty to that poor lady. But she—Lady Mason—she +bore it better, you say?"</p> + +<p>"I think she bears it very well,—considering what her position is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. It is very dreadful. The solicitor-general when he +opened,—was he very severe upon her?"</p> + +<p>"I do not think he wished to be severe."</p> + +<p>"But he made it very strong against her."</p> + +<p>"The story, as he told it, was very strong against her;—that is, you +know, it would be if we were to believe all that he stated."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, of course. He only stated what he has been told by others. +You could not see how the jury took it?"</p> + +<p>"I did not look at them. I was thinking more of her and of Lucius."</p> + +<p>"Lucius was there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he sat next to her. And Sir Richard said, while he was telling +the story, that he wished her son were not there to hear it. Upon my +word, sir, I almost wished so too."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow,—poor fellow! It would have been better for him to stay +away."</p> + +<p>"And yet had it been my mother—"</p> + +<p>"Your mother, Perry! It could not have been your mother. She could +not have been so placed."</p> + +<p>"If it be Lady Mason's misfortune, and not her +<span class="nowrap">fault—"</span></p> + +<p>"Ah, well; we will not talk about that. And there will be two days +more you say?"</p> + +<p>"So said Aram, the attorney."</p> + +<p>"God help her;—may God help her! It would be very dreadful for a +man, but for a woman the burden is insupportable."</p> + +<p>Then they both sat silent for a while, during which Peregrine was +engrossed in thinking how he could turn his grandfather from the +conversation.</p> + +<p>"And you heard no one express any opinion?" asked Sir Peregrine, +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"You mean about Lady Mason?" And Peregrine began to perceive that his +mother was right, and that it would have been well if possible to +avoid any words about the trial.</p> + +<p>"Do they think that she will—will be acquitted? Of course the people +there were talking about it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, they were talking about it. But I really don't know as to +any opinion. You see, the chief witnesses have not been examined."</p> + +<p>"And you, Perry, what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I, sir! Well, I was altogether on her side till I heard Sir Richard +Leatherham."</p> + +<p>"And then—?"</p> + +<p>"Then I did not know what to think. I suppose it's all right; but one +never can understand what those lawyers are at. When Mr. Chaffanbrass +got up to examine Dockwrath, he seemed to be just as confident on his +side as the other fellow had been on the other side. I don't think +I'll have any more wine, sir, thank you."</p> + +<p>But Sir Peregrine did not move. He sat in his old accustomed way, +nursing one leg over the knee of the other, and thinking of the +manner in which she had fallen at his feet, and confessed it all. Had +he married her, and gone with her proudly into the court,—as he +would have done,—and had he then heard a verdict of guilty given by +the jury;—nay, had he heard such proof of her guilt as would have +convinced himself, it would have killed him. He felt, as he sat +there, safe over his own fireside, that his safety was due to her +generosity. Had that other calamity fallen upon him, he could not +have survived it. His head would have fallen low before the eyes of +those who had known him since they had known anything, and would +never have been raised again. In his own spirit, in his inner life, +the blow had come to him; but it was due to her effort on his behalf +that he had not been stricken in public. When he had discussed the +matter with Mrs. Orme, he had seemed in a measure to forget this. It +had not at any rate been the thought which rested with the greatest +weight upon his mind. Then he had considered how she, whose life had +been stainless as driven snow, should bear herself in the presence of +such deep guilt. But now,—now as he sat alone, he thought only of +Lady Mason. Let her be ever so guilty,—and her guilt had been very +terrible,—she had behaved very nobly to him. From him at least she +had a right to sympathy.</p> + +<p>And what chance was there that she should escape? Of absolute escape +there was no chance whatever. Even should the jury acquit her, she +must declare her guilt to the world,—must declare it to her son, by +taking steps for the restoration of the property. As to that Sir +Peregrine felt no doubt whatever. That Joseph Mason of Groby would +recover his right to Orley Farm was to him a certainty. But how +terrible would be the path over which she must walk before this deed +of retribution could be done! "Ah, me! ah, me!" he said, as he +thought of all this,—speaking to himself, as though he were +unconscious of his grandson's presence. "Poor woman! poor woman!" +Then Peregrine felt sure that she had been guilty, and was sure also +that his grandfather was aware of it.</p> + +<p>"Will you come into the other room, sir?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; if you like it." And then the one leg fell from the other, +and he rose to do his grandson's bidding. To him now and henceforward +one room was much the same as another.</p> + +<p>In the mean time the party bound for Orley Farm had reached that +place, and to them also came the necessity of wearing through that +tedious evening. On the mind of Lucius Mason not even yet had a +shadow of suspicion fallen. To him, in spite of it all, his mother +was still pure. But yet he was stern to her, and his manner was very +harsh. It may be that had such suspicion crossed his mind he would +have been less stern, and his manner more tender. As it was he could +understand nothing that was going on, and almost felt that he was +kept in the dark at his mother's instance. Why was it that a man +respected by all the world, such as Sir Richard Leatherham, should +rise in court and tell such a tale as that against his mother; and +that the power of answering that tale on his mother's behalf should +be left to such another man as Mr. Chaffanbrass? Sir Richard had told +his story plainly, but with terrible force; whereas Chaffanbrass had +contented himself with brow-beating another lawyer with the lowest +quirks of his cunning. Why had not some one been in court able to use +the language of passionate truth and ready to thrust the lie down the +throats of those who told it?</p> + +<p>Tea and supper had been prepared for them, and they sat down +together; but the nature of the meal may be imagined. Lady Mason had +striven with terrible effort to support herself during the day, and +even yet she did not give way. It was quite as necessary that she +should restrain herself before her son as before all those others who +had gazed at her in court. And she did sustain herself. She took a +knife and fork in her hand and ate a few morsels. She drank her cup +of tea, and remembering that there in that house she was still +hostess, she made some slight effort to welcome her guest. "Surely +after such a day of trouble you will eat something," she said to her +friend. To Mrs. Orme it was marvellous that the woman should even be +alive,—let alone that she should speak and perform the ordinary +functions of her daily life. "And now," she said—Lady Mason said—as +soon as that ceremony was over, "now as we are so tired I think we +will go up stairs. Will you light our candles for us, Lucius?" And so +the candles were lit, and the two ladies went up stairs.</p> + +<p>A second bed had been prepared in Lady Mason's room, and into this +chamber they both went at once. Mrs. Orme, as soon as she had +entered, turned round and held out both her hands in order that she +might comfort Lady Mason by taking hers; but Lady Mason, when she had +closed the door, stood for a moment with her face towards the wall, +not knowing how to bear herself. It was but for a moment, and then +slowly moving round, with her two hands clasped together, she sank on +her knees at Mrs. Orme's feet, and hid her face in the skirt of Mrs. +Orme's dress.</p> + +<p>"My friend—my friend!" said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am your friend—indeed I am. But, dear Lady +<span class="nowrap">Mason—"</span> And she +endeavoured to think of words by which she might implore her to rise +and compose herself.</p> + +<p>"How is it you can bear with such a one as I am? How is it that you +do not hate me for my guilt?"</p> + +<p>"He does not hate us when we are guilty."</p> + +<p>"I do not know. Sometimes I think that all will hate me,—here and +hereafter—except you. Lucius will hate me, and how shall I bear +that? Oh, Mrs. Orme, I wish he knew it!"</p> + +<p>"I wish he did. He shall know it now,—to-night, if you will allow me +to tell him."</p> + +<p>"No. It would kill me to bear his looks. I wish he knew it, and was +away, so that he might never look at me again."</p> + +<p>"He too would forgive you if he knew it all."</p> + +<p>"Forgive! How can he forgive?" And as she spoke she rose again to her +feet, and her old manner came upon her. "Do you think what it is that +I have done for him? I,—his mother,—for my only child? And after +that, is it possible that he should forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"You meant him no harm."</p> + +<p>"But I have ruined him before all the world. He is as proud as your +boy; and could he bear to think that his whole life would be +disgraced by his mother's crime?"</p> + +<p>"Had I been so unfortunate he would have forgiven me."</p> + +<p>"We are speaking of what is impossible. It could not have been so. +Your youth was different from mine."</p> + +<p>"God has been very good to me, and not placed temptation in my +way;—temptation, I mean, to great faults. But little faults require +repentance as much as great ones."</p> + +<p>"But then repentance is easy; at any rate it is possible."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Mason, is it not possible for you?"</p> + +<p>"But I will not talk of that now. I will not hear you compare +yourself with such a one as I am. Do you know I was thinking to-day +that my mind would fail me, and that I should be mad before this is +over? How can I bear it? how can I bear it?" And rising from her +seat, she walked rapidly through the room, holding back her hair from +her brows with both her hands.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill71a" id="ill71a"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill71a.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill71a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt='"How can I bear it?"' /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">"How can I bear it?"<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill71a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>And how was she to bear it? The load on her back was too much for her +shoulders. The burden with which she had laden herself was too heavy +to be borne. Her power of endurance was very great. Her strength in +supporting the extreme bitterness of intense sorrow was wonderful. +But now she was taxed beyond her power. "How am I to bear it?" she +said again, as still holding her hair between her fingers, she drew +her hands back over her head.</p> + +<p>"You do not know. You have not tried it. It is impossible," she said +in her wildness, as Mrs. Orme endeavoured to teach her the only +source from whence consolation might be had. "I do not believe in the +thief on the cross, unless it was that he had prepared himself for +that day by years of contrition. I know I shock you," she added, +after a while. "I know that what I say will be dreadful to you. But +innocence will always be shocked by guilt. Go, go and leave me. It +has gone so far now that all is of no use." Then she threw herself on +the bed, and burst into a convulsive passion of tears.</p> + +<p>Once again Mrs. Orme endeavoured to obtain permission from her to +undertake that embassy to her son. Had Lady Mason acceded, or been +near acceding, Mrs. Orme's courage would probably have been greatly +checked. As it was she pressed it as though the task were one to be +performed without difficulty. Mrs. Orme was very anxious that Lucius +should not sit in the court throughout the trial. She felt that if he +did so the shock,—the shock which was inevitable,—must fall upon +him there; and than that she could conceive nothing more terrible. +And then also she believed that if the secret were once made known to +Lucius, and if he were for a time removed from his mother's side, the +poor woman might be brought to a calmer perception of her true +position. The strain would be lessened, and she would no longer feel +the necessity of exerting so terrible a control over her feelings.</p> + +<p>"You have acknowledged that he must know it sooner or later," pleaded +Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"But this is not the time,—not now, during the trial. Had he known +it <span class="nowrap">before—"</span></p> + +<p>"It would keep him away from the court."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I should never see him again! What will he do when he hears +it? Perhaps it would be better that he should go without seeing me."</p> + +<p>"He would not do that."</p> + +<p>"It would be better. If they take me to the prison, I will never see +him again. His eyes would kill me. Do you ever watch him and see the +pride that there is in his eye? He has never yet known what disgrace +means; and now I, his mother, have brought him to this!"</p> + +<p>It was all in vain as far as that night was concerned. Lady Mason +would give no such permission. But Mrs. Orme did exact from her a +kind of promise that Lucius should be told on the next evening, if it +then appeared, from what Mr. Aram should say, that the result of the +trial was likely to be against them.</p> + +<p>Lucius Mason spent his evening alone; and though he had as yet heard +none of the truth, his mind was not at ease, nor was he happy at +heart. Though he had no idea of his mother's guilt, he did conceive +that after this trial it would be impossible that they should remain +at Orley Farm. His mother's intended marriage with Sir Peregrine, and +then the manner in which that engagement had been broken off; the +course of the trial, and its celebrity; the enmity of Dockwrath; and +lastly, his own inability to place himself on terms of friendship +with those people who were still his mother's nearest friends, made +him feel that in any event it would be well for them to change their +residence. What could life do for him there at Orley Farm, after all +that had passed? He had gone to Liverpool and bought guano, and now +the sacks were lying in his barn unopened. He had begun to drain, and +the ugly unfinished lines of earth were lying across his fields. He +had no further interest in it, and felt that he could no longer go to +work on that ground as though he were in truth its master.</p> + +<p>But then, as he thought of his future hopes, his place of residence +and coming life, there was one other beyond himself and his mother to +whom his mind reverted. What would Sophia wish that he should +do?—his own Sophia,—she who had promised him that her heart should +be with his through all the troubles of this trial? Before he went to +bed that night he wrote to Sophia, and told her what were his +troubles and what his hopes. "This will be over in two days more," he +said, "and then I will come to you. You will see me, I trust, the day +after this letter reaches you; but nevertheless I cannot debar myself +from the satisfaction of writing. I am not happy, for I am +dissatisfied with what they are doing for my mother; and it is only +when I think of you, and the assurance of your love, that I can feel +anything like content. It is not a pleasant thing to sit by and hear +one's mother charged with the foulest frauds that practised villains +can conceive! Yet I have had to bear it, and have heard no denial of +the charge in true honest language. To-day, when the +solicitor-general was heaping falsehoods on her name, I could hardly +refrain myself from rushing at his throat. Let me have a line of +comfort from you, and then I will be with you on Friday."</p> + +<p>That line of comfort never came, nor did Lucius on the Friday make +his intended visit. Miss Furnival had determined, some day or two +before this, that she would not write to Lucius again till this trial +was over; and even then it might be a question whether a +correspondence with the heir of Noningsby would not be more to her +taste.</p> + + +<p><a name="c71" id="c71"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXI.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW JOHN KENNEBY<br />AND BRIDGET BOLSTER<br /> +BORE THEMSELVES IN COURT.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the next morning they were all in their places at ten o'clock, and +the crowd had been gathered outside the doors of the court from a +much earlier hour. As the trial progressed the interest in it +increased, and as people began to believe that Lady Mason had in +truth forged a will, so did they the more regard her in the light of +a heroine. Had she murdered her husband after forging his will, men +would have paid half a crown apiece to have touched her garments, or +a guinea for the privilege of shaking hands with her. Lady Mason had +again taken her seat with her veil raised, with Mrs. Orme on one side +of her and her son on the other. The counsel were again ranged on the +seats behind, Mr. Furnival sitting the nearest to the judge, and Mr. +Aram again occupied the intermediate bench, so placing himself that +he could communicate either with his client or with the barristers. +These were now their established places, and great as was the crowd, +they found no difficulty in reaching them. An easy way is always made +for the chief performers in a play.</p> + +<p>This was to be the great day as regarded the evidence. "It is a case +that depends altogether on evidence," one young lawyer said to +another. "If the counsel know how to handle the witnesses, I should +say she is safe." The importance of this handling was felt by every +one, and therefore it was understood that the real game would be +played out on this middle day. It had been all very well for +Chaffanbrass to bully Dockwrath and make the wretched attorney +miserable for an hour or so, but that would have but little bearing +on the verdict. There were two persons there who were prepared to +swear that on a certain day they had only signed one deed. So much +the solicitor-general had told them, and nobody doubted that it would +be so. The question now was this, would Mr. Furnival and Mr. +Chaffanbrass succeed in making them contradict themselves when they +had so sworn? Could they be made to say that they had signed two +deeds, or that they might have done so?</p> + +<p>It was again the duty of Mr. Furnival to come first upon the +stage,—that is to say, he was to do so as soon as Sir Richard had +performed his very second-rate part of eliciting the evidence in +chief. Poor John Kenneby was to be the first victim, and he was +placed in the box before them all very soon after the judge had taken +his seat. Why had he not emigrated to Australia, and escaped all +this,—escaped all this, and Mrs. Smiley also? That was John +Kenneby's reflection as he slowly mounted the two steps up into the +place of his torture. Near to the same spot, and near also to +Dockwrath who had taken these two witnesses under his special charge, +sat Bridget Bolster. She had made herself very comfortable that +morning with buttered toast and sausages; and when at Dockwrath's +instance Kenneby had submitted to a slight infusion of Dutch +courage,—a bottle of brandy would not have sufficed for the +purpose,—Bridget also had not refused the generous glass. "Not that +I wants it," said she, meaning thereby to express an opinion that she +could hold her own, even against the great Chaffanbrass, without any +such extraneous aid. She now sat quite quiet, with her hands crossed +on her knees before her, and her eyes immovably fixed on the table +which stood in the centre of the court. In that position she remained +till her turn came; and one may say that there was no need for fear +on account of Bridget Bolster.</p> + +<p>And then Sir Richard began. What would be the nature of Kenneby's +direct evidence the reader pretty well knows. Sir Richard took a long +time in extracting it, for he was aware that it would be necessary to +give his witness some confidence before he came to his main +questions. Even to do this was difficult, for Kenneby would speak in +a voice so low that nobody could hear him; and on the second occasion +of the judge enjoining him to speak out, he nearly fainted. It is odd +that it never occurs to judges that a witness who is naturally timid +will be made more so by being scolded. When I hear a judge thus use +his authority, I always wish that I had the power of forcing him to +some very uncongenial employment,—jumping in a sack, let us say; and +then when he jumped poorly, as he certainly would, I would crack my +whip and bid him go higher and higher. The more I so bade him, the +more he would limp; and the world looking on, would pity him and +execrate me. It is much the same thing when a witness is sternly told +to speak louder.</p> + +<p>But John Kenneby at last told his plain story. He remembered the day +on which he had met old Usbech and Bridget Bolster and Lady Mason in +Sir Joseph's chamber. He had then witnessed a signature by Sir +Joseph, and had only witnessed one on that day;—of that he was +perfectly certain. He did not think that old Usbech had signed the +deed in question, but on that matter he declined to swear positively. +He remembered the former trial. He had not then been able to swear +positively whether Usbech had or had not signed the deed. As far as +he could remember, that was the point to which his cross-examination +on that occasion had chiefly been directed. So much John Kenneby did +at last say in language that was sufficiently plain.</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Furnival arose. The reader is acquainted with the state +of his mind on the subject of this trial. The enthusiasm on behalf of +Lady Mason, which had been aroused by his belief in her innocence, by +his old friendship, by his ancient adherence to her cause, and by his +admiration for her beauty, had now greatly faded. It had faded much +when he found himself obliged to call in such fellow-labourers as +Chaffanbrass and Aram, and had all but perished when he learned from +contact with them to regard her guilt as certain. But, nevertheless, +now that he was there, the old fire returned to him. He had wished +twenty times that he had been able to shake the matter from him and +leave his old client in the hands of her new advisers. It would be +better for her, he had said to himself. But on this day—on these +three days—seeing that he had not shaken the matter off, he rose to +his work as though he still loved her, as though all his mind was +still intent on preserving that ill-gotten inheritance for her son. +It may almost be doubted whether at moments during these three days +he did not again persuade himself that she was an injured woman. +Aram, as may be remembered, had felt misgivings as to Mr. Furnival's +powers for such cross-examination; but Chaffanbrass had never doubted +it. He knew that Mr. Furnival could do as much as himself in that +way; the difference being this,—that Mr. Furnival could do something +else besides.</p> + +<p>"And now, Mr. Kenneby, I'll ask you a few questions," he said; and +Kenneby turned round to him. The barrister spoke in a mild low voice, +but his eye transfixed the poor fellow at once; and though Kenneby +was told a dozen times to look at the jury and speak to the jury, he +never was able to take his gaze away from Mr. Furnival's face.</p> + +<p>"You remember the old trial," he said; and as he spoke he held in his +hand what was known to be an account of that transaction. Then there +arose a debate between him and Sir Richard, in which Chaffanbrass, +and Graham, and Mr. Steelyard all took part, as to whether Kenneby +might be examined as to his former examination; and on this point +Graham pleaded very volubly, bringing up precedents without +number,—striving to do his duty to his client on a point with which +his own conscience did not interfere. And at last it was ruled by the +judge that this examination might go on;—whereupon both Sir Richard +and Mr. Steelyard sat down as though they were perfectly satisfied. +Kenneby, on being again asked, said that he did remember the old +trial.</p> + +<p>"It is necessary, you know, that the jury should hear you, and if you +look at them and speak to them, they would stand a better chance." +Kenneby for a moment allowed his eye to travel up to the jury box, +but it instantly fell again, and fixed itself on the lawyer's face. +"You do remember that trial?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I remember it," whispered Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember my asking you then whether you had been in the habit +of witnessing Sir Joseph Mason's signature?"</p> + +<p>"Did you ask me that, sir?"</p> + +<p>"That is the question which I put to you. Do you remember my doing +so?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say you did, sir."</p> + +<p>"I did, and I will now read your answer. We shall give to the jury a +copy of the proceedings of that trial, my lord, when we have proved +it,—as of course we intend to do."</p> + +<p>And then there was another little battle between the barristers. But +as Lady Mason was now being tried for perjury, alleged to have been +committed at that other trial, it was of course indispensable that +all the proceedings of that trial should be made known to the jury.</p> + +<p>"You said on that occasion," continued Furnival, "that you were sure +you had witnessed three signatures of Sir Joseph's that summer,—that +you had probably witnessed three in July, that you were quite sure +you had witnessed three in one week in July, that you were nearly +sure you had witnessed three in one day, that you could not tell what +day that might have been, and that you had been used as a witness so +often that you really did not remember anything about it. Can you say +whether that was the purport of the evidence you gave then?"</p> + +<p>"If it's down there—" said John Kenneby, and then he stopped +himself.</p> + +<p>"It is down here; I have read it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's all right," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"I must trouble you to speak out," said the judge; "I cannot hear +you, and it is impossible that the jury should do so." The judge's +words were not uncivil, but his voice was harsh, and the only +perceptible consequence of the remonstrance was to be seen in the +thick drops of perspiration standing on John Kenneby's brow.</p> + +<p>"That is the evidence which you gave on the former trial? May the +jury presume that you then spoke the truth to the best of your +knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"I tried to speak the truth, sir."</p> + +<p>"You tried to speak the truth? But do you mean to say that you +failed?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I failed."</p> + +<p>"When, therefore, you told the jury that you were nearly sure that +you had witnessed three signatures of Sir Joseph's in one day, that +was truth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I ever did."</p> + +<p>"Ever did what?"</p> + +<p>"Witness three papers in one day."</p> + +<p>"You don't think you ever did?"</p> + +<p>"I might have done, to be sure."</p> + +<p>"But then, at that trial, about twelve months after the man's death, +you were nearly sure you had done so."</p> + +<p>"Was I?"</p> + +<p>"So you told the jury."</p> + +<p>"Then I did, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then you did what?"</p> + +<p>"Did witness all those papers."</p> + +<p>"You think then now that it is probable you witnessed three +signatures on the same day?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think that."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"It is so long ago, sir, that I really don't know."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. It is so long ago that you cannot depend on your memory."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I can't, sir."</p> + +<p>"But you just now told the gentleman who examined you on the other +side, that you were quite sure you did not witness two deeds on the +day he named,—the 14th of July. Now, seeing that you doubt your own +memory, going back over so long a time, do you wish to correct that +statement?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose I do."</p> + +<p>"What correction do you wish to make?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I did."</p> + +<p>"Don't think you did what?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I signed two—"</p> + +<p>"I really cannot hear the witness," said the judge</p> + +<p>"You must speak out louder," said Mr. Furnival, himself speaking very +loudly.</p> + +<p>"I mean to do it as well as I can," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"I believe you do," said Furnival; "but in so meaning you must be +very careful to state nothing as a certainty, of the certainty of +which you are not sure. Are you certain that on that day you did not +witness two deeds?"</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"And yet you were not certain twenty years ago, when the fact was so +much nearer to you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember."</p> + +<p>"You don't remember whether you were certain twelve months after the +occurrence, but you think you are certain now."</p> + +<p>"I mean, I don't think I signed two."</p> + +<p>"It is, then, only a matter of thinking?"</p> + +<p>"No;—only a matter of thinking."</p> + +<p>"And you might have signed the two?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly might have done so."</p> + +<p>"What you mean to tell the jury is this: that you have no remembrance +of signing twice on that special day, although you know that you have +acted as witness on behalf of Sir Joseph Mason more than twice on the +same day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"That is the intended purport of your evidence?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Furnival travelled off to that other point of Mr. +Usbech's presence and alleged handwriting. On that matter Kenneby had +not made any positive assertion, though he had expressed a very +strong opinion. Mr. Furnival was not satisfied with this, but wished +to show that Kenneby had not on that matter even a strong opinion. He +again reverted to the evidence on the former trial, and read various +questions with their answers; and the answers as given at that time +certainly did not, when so taken, express a clear opinion on the part +of the person who gave them; although an impartial person on reading +the whole evidence would have found that a very clear opinion was +expressed. When first asked, Kenneby had said that he was nearly sure +that Mr. Usbech had not signed the document. But his very anxiety to +be true had brought him into trouble. Mr. Furnival on that occasion +had taken advantage of the word "nearly," and had at last succeeded +in making him say that he was not sure at all. Evidence by means of +torture,—thumbscrew and suchlike,—we have for many years past +abandoned as barbarous, and have acknowledged that it is of its very +nature useless in the search after truth. How long will it be before +we shall recognise that the other kind of torture is equally opposed +both to truth and civilization?</p> + +<p>"But Mr. Usbech was certainly in the room on that day?" continued Mr. +Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was there."</p> + +<p>"And knew what you were all doing, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose he knew."</p> + +<p>"I presume it was he who explained to you the nature of the deed you +were to witness?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say he did."</p> + +<p>"As he was the lawyer, that would be natural."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it would."</p> + +<p>"And you don't remember the nature of that special deed, as explained +to you on the day when Bridget Bolster was in the room?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't."</p> + +<p>"It might have been a will?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it might. I did sign one or two wills for Sir Joseph, I think."</p> + +<p>"And as to this individual document, Mr. Usbech might have signed it +in your presence, for anything you know to the contrary?"</p> + +<p>"He might have done so."</p> + +<p>"Now, on your oath, Kenneby, is your memory strong enough to enable +you to give the jury any information on this subject upon which they +may firmly rely in convicting that unfortunate lady of the terrible +crime laid to her charge." Then for a moment Kenneby glanced round +and fixed his eyes upon Lady Mason's face. "Think a moment before you +answer; and deal with her as you would wish another should deal with +you if you were so situated. Can you say that you remember that +Usbech did not sign it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I don't think he did."</p> + +<p>"But he might have done so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; he might."</p> + +<p>"You do not remember that he did do so?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>"And that is about the extent of what you mean to say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Let me understand," said the judge—and then the perspiration became +more visible on poor Kenneby's face;—"do you mean to say that you +have no memory on the matter whatever?—that you simply do not +remember whether Usbech did or did not sign it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think he signed it."</p> + +<p>"But why do you think he did not, seeing that his name is there?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't see him."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," continued the judge, "that you didn't see him, or that +you don't remember that you saw him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember that I saw him."</p> + +<p>"But you may have done so? He may have signed, and you may have seen +him do so, only you don't remember it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord."</p> + +<p>And then Kenneby was allowed to go down. As he did so, Joseph Mason, +who sat near to him, turned upon him a look black as thunder. Mr. +Mason gave him no credit for his timidity, but believed that he had +been bought over by the other side. Dockwrath, however, knew better. +"They did not quite beat him about his own signature," said he; "but +I knew all along that we must depend chiefly upon Bolster."</p> + +<p>Then Bridget Bolster was put into the box, and she was examined by +Mr. Steelyard. She had heard Kenneby instructed to look up, and she +therefore fixed her eyes upon the canopy over the judge's seat. There +she fixed them, and there she kept them till her examination was +over, merely turning them for a moment on to Mr. Chaffanbrass, when +that gentleman became particularly severe in his treatment of her. +What she said in answer to Mr. Steelyard, was very simple. She had +never witnessed but one signature in her life, and that she had done +in Sir Joseph's room. The nature of the document had been explained +to her. "But," as she said, "she was young and giddy then, and what +went in at one ear went out at another." She didn't remember Mr. +Usbech signing, but he might have done so. She thought he did not. As +to the two signatures purporting to be hers, she could not say which +was hers and which was not. But this she would swear positively, that +they were not both hers. To this she adhered firmly, and Mr. +Steelyard handed her over to Mr. Chaffanbrass.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill71b" id="ill71b"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill71b.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill71b-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Bridget Bolster in Court." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Bridget Bolster in Court.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill71b.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>Then Mr. Chaffanbrass rose from his seat, and every one knew that his +work was cut out for him. Mr. Furnival had triumphed. It may be said +that he had demolished his witness; but his triumph had been very +easy. It was now necessary to demolish Bridget Bolster, and the +opinion was general that if anybody could do it Mr. Chaffanbrass was +the man. But there was a doggedness about Bridget Bolster which +induced many to doubt whether even Chaffanbrass would be successful. +Mr. Aram trusted greatly; but the bar would have preferred to stake +their money on Bridget.</p> + +<p>Chaffanbrass as he rose pushed back his small ugly wig from his +forehead, thrusting it rather on one side as he did so, and then, +with his chin thrown forward, and a wicked, ill-meaning smile upon +his mouth, he looked at Bridget for some moments before he spoke to +her. She glanced at him, and instantly fixed her eyes back upon the +canopy. She then folded her hands one on the other upon the rail +before her, compressed her lips, and waited patiently.</p> + +<p>"I think you say you're—a chambermaid?" That was the first question +which Chaffanbrass asked, and Bridget Bolster gave a little start as +she heard his sharp, angry, disagreeable voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am, sir, at Palmer's Imperial Hotel, Plymouth, Devonshire; +and have been for nineteen years, upper and under."</p> + +<p>"Upper and under! What do upper and under mean?"</p> + +<p>"When I was under, I had another above me; and now, as I'm upper, why +there's others under me." So she explained her position at the hotel, +but she never took her eyes from the canopy.</p> + +<p>"You hadn't begun being—chambermaid, when you signed these +documents?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't sign only one of 'em."</p> + +<p>"Well, one of them. You hadn't begun being chambermaid then?"</p> + +<p>"No, I hadn't; I was housemaid at Orley Farm."</p> + +<p>"Were you upper or under there?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe I was both; that is, the cook was upper in the +house."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the cook was upper. Why wasn't she called to sign her name?"</p> + +<p>"That I can't say. She was a very decent woman,—that I can say,—and +her name was Martha Mullens."</p> + +<p>So far Mr. Chaffanbrass had not done much; but that was only the +preliminary skirmish, as fencers play with their foils before they +begin.</p> + +<p>"And now, Bridget Bolster, if I understand you," he said, "you have +sworn that on the 14th of July you only signed one of these +documents."</p> + +<p>"I only signed once, sir. I didn't say nothing about the 14th of +July, because I don't remember."</p> + +<p>"But when you signed the one deed, you did not sign any other?"</p> + +<p>"Neither then nor never."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the offence for which that lady is being tried—Lady +Mason?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I ain't sure; it's for doing something about the will."</p> + +<p>"No, woman, it is not." And then, as Mr. Chaffanbrass raised his +voice, and spoke with savage earnestness, Bridget again started, and +gave a little leap up from the floor. But she soon settled herself +back in her old position. "No one has dared to accuse her of that," +continued Mr. Chaffanbrass, looking over at the lawyers on the other +side. "The charge they have brought forward against her is that of +perjury—of having given false evidence twenty years ago in a court +of law. Now look here, Bridget Bolster; look at me, I say." She did +look at him for a moment, and then turned her eyes back to the +canopy. "As sure as you're a living woman, you shall be placed there +and tried for the same offence,—for perjury,—if you tell me a +falsehood respecting this matter."</p> + +<p>"I won't say nothing but what's right," said Bridget.</p> + +<p>"You had better not. Now look at these two signatures;" and he handed +to her two deeds, or rather made one of the servants of the court +hold them for him; "which of those signatures is the one which you +did not sign?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say, sir."</p> + +<p>"Did you write that further one,—that with your hand on it?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say, sir."</p> + +<p>"Look at it, woman, before you answer me."</p> + +<p>Bridget looked at it, and then repeated the same +<span class="nowrap">words—</span></p> + +<p>"I can't say, sir."</p> + +<p>"And now look at the other." And she again looked down for a moment. +"Did you write that?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say, sir."</p> + +<p>"Will you swear that you wrote either?"</p> + +<p>"I did write one once."</p> + +<p>"Don't prevaricate with me, woman. Were either of those signatures +there written by you?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose that one was."</p> + +<p>"Will you swear that you wrote either the one or the other?"</p> + +<p>"I'll swear I did write one, once."</p> + +<p>"Will you swear you wrote one of those you have before you? You can +read, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I can read."</p> + +<p>"Then look at them." Again she turned her eyes on them for half a +moment. "Will you swear that you wrote either of those?"</p> + +<p>"Not if there's another anywhere else," said Bridget, at last.</p> + +<p>"Another anywhere else," said Chaffanbrass, repeating her words; +"what do you mean by another?"</p> + +<p>"If you've got another that anybody else has done, I won't say which +of the three is mine. But I did one, and I didn't do no more."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chaffanbrass continued at it for a long time, but with very +indifferent success. That affair of the signatures, which was indeed +the only point on which evidence was worth anything, he then +abandoned, and tried to make her contradict herself about old Usbech. +But on this subject she could say nothing. That Usbech was present +she remembered well, but as to his signing the deed, or not signing +it, she would not pretend to say anything.</p> + +<p>"I know he was cram full of gout," she said; "but I don't remember +nothing more."</p> + +<p>But it may be explained that Mr. Chaffanbrass had altogether altered +his intention and the very plan of his campaign with reference to +this witness, as soon as he saw what was her nature and disposition. +He discovered very early in the affair that he could not force her to +contradict herself and reduce her own evidence to nothing, as +Furnival had done with the man. Nothing would flurry this woman, or +force her to utter words of which she herself did not know the +meaning. The more he might persevere in such an attempt, the more +dogged and steady she would become. He therefore soon gave that up. +He had already given it up when he threatened to accuse her of +perjury, and resolved that as he could not shake her he would shake +the confidence which the jury might place in her. He could not make a +fool of her, and therefore he would make her out to be a rogue. Her +evidence would stand alone, or nearly alone; and in this way he might +turn her firmness to his own purpose, and explain that her dogged +resolution to stick to one plain statement arose from her having been +specially instructed so to do, with the object of ruining his client. +For more than half an hour he persisted in asking her questions with +this object; hinting that she was on friendly terms with Dockwrath; +asking her what pay she had received for her evidence; making her +acknowledge that she was being kept at free quarters, and on the fat +of the land. He even produced from her a list of the good things she +had eaten that morning at breakfast, and at last succeeded in +obtaining information as to that small but indiscreet glass of +spirits. It was then, and then only, that poor Bridget became +discomposed. Beefsteaks, sausages, and pigs' fry, though they were +taken three times a day, were not disgraceful in her line of life; +but that little thimble of brandy, taken after much pressing and in +the openness of good fellowship, went sorely against the grain with +her. "When one has to be badgered like this, one wants a drop of +something more than ordinary," she said at last. And they were the +only words which she did say which proved any triumph on the part of +Mr. Chaffanbrass. But nevertheless Mr. Chaffanbrass was not +dissatisfied. Triumph, immediate triumph over a poor maid-servant +could hardly have been the object of a man who had been triumphant in +such matters for the last thirty years. Would it not be practicable +to make the jury doubt whether that woman could be believed? That was +the triumph he desired. As for himself, Mr. Chaffanbrass knew well +enough that she had spoken nothing but the truth. But had he so +managed that the truth might be made to look like falsehood,—or at +any rate to have a doubtful air? If he had done that, he had +succeeded in the occupation of his life, and was indifferent to his +own triumph.</p> + + +<p><a name="c72" id="c72"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXII.</h4> +<h3>MR. FURNIVAL'S SPEECH.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>All this as may be supposed disturbed Felix Graham not a little. He +perceived that each of those two witnesses had made a great effort to +speak the truth;—an honest, painful effort to speak the truth, and +in no way to go beyond it. His gall had risen within him while he had +listened to Mr. Furnival, and witnessed his success in destroying the +presence of mind of that weak wretch who was endeavouring to do his +best in the cause of justice. And again, when Mr. Chaffanbrass had +seized hold of that poor dram, and used all his wit in deducing from +it a self-condemnation from the woman before him;—when the practised +barrister had striven to show that she was an habitual drunkard, +dishonest, unchaste, evil in all her habits, Graham had felt almost +tempted to get up and take her part. No doubt he had evinced this, +for Chaffanbrass had understood what was going on in his colleague's +mind, and had looked round at him from time to time with an air of +scorn that had been almost unendurable.</p> + +<p>And then it had become the duty of the prosecutors to prove the +circumstances of the former trial. This was of course essentially +necessary, seeing that the offence for which Lady Mason was now on +her defence was perjury alleged to have been committed at that trial. +And when this had been done at considerable length by Sir Richard +Leatherham,—not without many interruptions from Mr. Furnival and +much assistance from Mr. Steelyard,—it fell upon Felix Graham to +show by cross-examination of Crook the attorney, what had been the +nature and effect of Lady Mason's testimony. As he arose to do this, +Mr. Chaffanbrass whispered into his ear, "If you feel yourself +unequal to it I'll take it up. I won't have her thrown over for any +etiquette,—nor yet for any squeamishness." To this Graham vouchsafed +no answer. He would not even reply by a look, but he got up and did +his work. At this point his conscience did not interfere with him, +for the questions which he asked referred to facts which had really +occurred. Lady Mason's testimony at that trial had been believed by +everybody. The gentleman who had cross-examined her on the part of +Joseph Mason, and who was now dead, had failed to shake her evidence. +The judge who tried the case had declared to the jury that it was +impossible to disbelieve her evidence. That judge was still living, a +poor old bedridden man, and in the course of this latter trial his +statement was given in evidence. There could be no doubt that at the +time Lady Mason's testimony was taken as worthy of all credit. She +had sworn that she had seen the three witnesses sign the codicil, and +no one had then thrown discredit on her. The upshot of all was this, +that the prosecuting side proved satisfactorily that such and such +things had been sworn by Lady Mason; and Felix Graham on the side of +the defence proved that, when she had so sworn, her word had been +considered worthy of credence by the judge and by the jury, and had +hardly been doubted even by the counsel opposed to her. All this +really had been so, and Felix Graham used his utmost ingenuity in +making clear to the court how high and unassailed had been the +position which his client then held.</p> + +<p>All this occupied the court till nearly four o'clock, and then as the +case was over on the part of the prosecution, the question arose +whether or no Mr. Furnival should address the jury on that evening, +or wait till the following day. "If your lordship will sit till seven +o'clock," said Mr. Furnival, "I think I can undertake to finish what +remarks I shall have to make by that time." "I should not mind +sitting till nine for the pleasure of hearing Mr. Furnival," said the +judge, who was very anxious to escape from Alston on the day but one +following. And thus it was decided that Mr. Furnival should commence +his speech.</p> + +<p>I have said that in spite of some previous hesitation his old fire +had returned to him when he began his work in court on behalf of his +client. If this had been so when that work consisted in the +cross-examination of a witness, it was much more so with him now when +he had to exhibit his own powers of forensic eloquence. When a man +knows that he can speak with ease and energy, and that he will be +listened to with attentive ears, it is all but impossible that he +should fail to be enthusiastic, even though his cause be a bad one. +It was so with him now. All his old fire came back upon him, and +before he had done he had almost brought himself again to believe +Lady Mason to be that victim of persecution as which he did not +hesitate to represent her to the jury.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the jury," he said, "I never rose to plead a client's +cause with more confidence than I now feel in pleading that of my +friend Lady Mason. Twenty years ago I was engaged in defending her +rights in this matter, and I then succeeded. I little thought at that +time that I should be called on after so long an interval to renew my +work. I little thought that the pertinacity of her opponent would +hold out for such a period. I compliment him on the firmness of his +character, on that equable temperament which has enabled him to sit +through all this trial, and to look without dismay on the unfortunate +lady whom he has considered it to be his duty to accuse of perjury. I +did not think that I should live to fight this battle again. But so +it is; and as I had but little doubt of victory then,—so have I none +now. Gentlemen of the jury, I must occupy some of your time and of +the time of the court in going through the evidence which has been +adduced by my learned friend against my client; but I almost feel +that I shall be detaining you unnecessarily, so sure I am that the +circumstances, as they have been already explained to you, could not +justify you in giving a verdict against her."</p> + +<p>As Mr. Furnival's speech occupied fully three hours, I will not +trouble my readers with the whole of it. He began by describing the +former trial, and giving his own recollections as to Lady Mason's +conduct on that occasion. In doing this, he fully acknowledged on her +behalf that she did give as evidence that special statement which her +opponents now endeavoured to prove to have been false. "If it were +the case," he said, "that that codicil—or that pretended codicil, +was not executed by old Sir Joseph Mason, and was not witnessed by +Usbech, Kenneby, and Bridget Bolster,—then, in that case, Lady Mason +has been guilty of perjury." Mr. Furnival, as he made this +acknowledgement, studiously avoided the face of Lady Mason. But as he +made this assertion, almost everybody in the court except her own +counsel did look at her. Joseph Mason opposite and Dockwrath fixed +their gaze closely upon her. Sir Richard Leatherham and Mr. Steelyard +turned their eyes towards her, probably without meaning to do so. The +judge looked over his spectacles at her. Even Mr. Aram glanced round +at her surreptitiously; and Lucius turned his face upon his mother's, +almost with an air of triumph. But she bore it all without +flinching;—bore it all without flinching, though the state of her +mind at that moment must have been pitiable. And Mrs. Orme, who held +her hand all the while, knew that it was so. The hand which rested in +hers was twitched as it were convulsively, but the culprit gave no +outward sign of her guilt.</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival then read much of the evidence given at the former +trial, and especially showed how the witnesses had then failed to +prove that Usbech had not been required to write his name. It was +quite true, he said, that they had been equally unable to prove that +he had done so; but that amounted to nothing; the "onus probandi" lay +with the accusing side. There was the signature, and it was for them +to prove that it was not that which it pretended to be. Lady Mason +had proved that it was so; and because that had then been held to be +sufficient, they now, after twenty years, took this means of +invalidating her testimony. From that he went to the evidence given +at the present trial, beginning with the malice and interested +motives of Dockwrath. Against three of them only was it needful that +he should allege anything, seeing that the statements made by the +others were in no way injurious to Lady Mason,—if the statements +made by those three were not credible. Torrington, for instance, had +proved that other deed; but what of that, if on the fatal 14th of +July Sir Joseph Mason had executed two deeds? As to Dockwrath,—that +his conduct had been interested and malicious there could be no +doubt; and he submitted to the jury that he had shown himself to be a +man unworthy of credit. As to Kenneby,—that poor weak creature, as +Mr. Furnival in his mercy called him,—he, Mr. Furnival, could not +charge his conscience with saying that he believed him to have been +guilty of any falsehood. On the contrary, he conceived that Kenneby +had endeavoured to tell the truth. But he was one of those men whose +minds were so inconsequential that they literally did not know truth +from falsehood. He had not intended to lie when he told the jury that +he was not quite sure he had never witnessed two signatures by Sir +Joseph Mason on the same day, nor did he lie when he told them again +that he had witnessed three. He had meant to declare the truth; but +he was, unfortunately, a man whose evidence could not be of much +service in any case of importance, and could be of no service +whatever in a criminal charge tried, as was done in this instance, +more than twenty years after the alleged commission of the offence. +With regard to Bridget Bolster, he had no hesitation whatever in +telling the jury that she was a woman unworthy of belief,—unworthy +of that credit which the jury must place in her before they could +convict any one on her unaided testimony. It must have been clear to +them all that she had come into court drilled and instructed to make +one point-blank statement, and to stick to that. She had refused to +give any evidence as to her own signature. She would not even look at +her own name as written by herself; but had contented herself with +repeating over and over again those few words which she had been +instructed so to say;—the statement namely, that she had never put +her hand to more than one deed.</p> + +<p>Then he addressed himself, as he concluded his speech, to that part +of the subject which was more closely personal to Lady Mason herself. +"And now, gentlemen of the jury," he said, "before I can dismiss you +from your weary day's work, I must ask you to regard the position of +the lady who has been thus accused, and the amount of probability of +her guilt which you may assume from the nature of her life. I shall +call no witnesses as to her character, for I will not submit her +friends to the annoyance of those questions which the gentlemen +opposite might feel it their duty to put to them. Circumstances have +occurred—so much I will tell you, and so much no doubt you all +personally know, though it is not in evidence before +you;—circumstances have occurred which would make it cruel on my +part to place her old friend Sir Peregrine Orme in that box. The +story, could I tell it to you, is one full of romance, but full also +of truth and affection. But though Sir Peregrine Orme is not here, +there sits his daughter by Lady Mason's side,—there she has sat +through this tedious trial, giving comfort to the woman that she +loves,—and there she will sit till your verdict shall have made her +further presence here unnecessary. His lordship and my learned friend +there will tell you that you cannot take that as evidence of +character. They will be justified in so telling you; but I, on the +other hand, defy you not to take it as such evidence. Let us make +what laws we will, they cannot take precedence of human nature. There +too sits my client's son. You will remember that at the beginning of +this trial the solicitor-general expressed a wish that he were not +here. I do not know whether you then responded to that wish, but I +believe I may take it for granted that you do not do so now. Had any +woman dear to either of you been so placed through the malice of an +enemy, would you have hesitated to sit by her in her hour of trial? +Had you doubted of her innocence you might have hesitated; for who +could endure to hear announced in a crowded court like this the guilt +of a mother or a wife? But he has no doubt. Nor, I believe, has any +living being in this court,—unless it be her kinsman opposite, whose +life for the last twenty years has been made wretched by a wicked +longing after the patrimony of his brother.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the jury, there sits my client with as loving a friend +on one side as ever woman had, and with her only child on the other. +During the incidents of this trial the nature of the life she has led +during the last twenty years,—since the period of that terrible +crime with which she is charged,—has been proved before you. I may +fearlessly ask you whether so fair a life is compatible with the idea +of guilt so foul? I have known her intimately during all those +years,—not as a lawyer, but as a friend,—and I confess that the +audacity of this man Dockwrath, in assailing such a character with +such an accusation, strikes me almost with admiration. What! +Forgery!—for that, gentlemen of the jury, is the crime with which +she is substantially charged. Look at her, as she sits there! That +she, at the age of twenty, or not much more,—she who had so well +performed the duties of her young life, that she should have forged a +will,—have traced one signature after another in such a manner as to +have deceived all those lawyers who were on her track immediately +after her husband's death! For, mark you, if this be true, with her +own hand she must have done it! There was no accomplice there. Look +at her! Was she a forger? Was she a woman to deceive the sharp +bloodhounds of the law? Could she, with that young baby on her bosom, +have wrested from such as him"—and as he spoke he pointed with his +finger, but with a look of unutterable scorn, to Joseph Mason, who +was sitting opposite to him—"that fragment of his old father's +property which he coveted so sorely? Where had she learned such +skilled artifice? Gentlemen, such ingenuity in crime as that has +never yet been proved in a court of law, even against those who have +spent a life of wretchedness in acquiring such skill; and now you are +asked to believe that such a deed was done by a young wife, of whom +all that you know is that her conduct in every other respect had been +beyond all praise! Gentlemen, I might have defied you to believe this +accusation had it even been supported by testimony of a high +character. Even in such case you would have felt that there was more +behind than had been brought to your knowledge. But now, having seen, +as you have, of what nature are the witnesses on whose testimony she +has been impeached, it is impossible that you should believe this +story. Had Lady Mason been a woman steeped in guilt from her infancy, +had she been noted for cunning and fraudulent ingenuity, had she been +known as an expert forger, you would not have convicted her on this +indictment, having had before you the malice and greed of Dockwrath, +the stupidity—I may almost call it idiocy, of Kenneby, and the +dogged resolution to conceal the truth evinced by the woman Bolster. +With strong evidence you could not have believed such a charge +against so excellent a lady. With such evidence as you have had +before you, you could not have believed the charge against a +previously convicted felon.</p> + +<p>"And what has been the object of this terrible persecution,—of the +dreadful punishment which has been inflicted on this poor lady? For +remember, though you cannot pronounce her guilty, her sufferings have +been terribly severe. Think what it must have been for a woman with +habits such as hers, to have looked forward for long, long weeks to +such a martyrdom as this! Think what she must have suffered in being +dragged here and subjected to the gaze of all the county as a +suspected felon! Think what must have been her feelings when I told +her, not knowing how deep an ingenuity might be practised against +her, that I must counsel her to call to her aid the unequalled +talents of my friend Mr. Chaffanbrass"—"Unequalled no longer, but +far surpassed," whispered Chaffanbrass, in a voice that was audible +through all the centre of the court. "Her punishment has been +terrible," continued Mr. Furnival. "After what she has gone through, +it may well be doubted whether she can continue to reside at that +sweet spot which has aroused such a feeling of avarice in the bosom +of her kinsman. You have heard that Sir Joseph Mason had promised his +eldest son that Orley Farm should form a part of his inheritance. It +may be that the old man did make such a promise. If so, he thought +fit to break it. But is it not wonderful that a man wealthy as is Mr. +Mason—for his fortune is large; who has never wanted anything that +money can buy; a man for whom his father did so much,—that he should +be stirred up by disappointed avarice to carry in his bosom for +twenty years so bitter a feeling of rancour against those who are +nearest to him by blood and ties of family! Gentlemen, it has been a +fearful lesson; but it is one which neither you nor I will ever +forget!</p> + +<p>"And now I shall leave my client's case in your hands. As to the +verdict which you will give, I have no apprehension. You know as well +as I do that she has not been guilty of this terrible crime. That you +will so pronounce I do not for a moment doubt. But I do hope that +that verdict will be accompanied by some expression on your part +which may show to the world at large how great has been the +wickedness displayed in the accusation."</p> + +<p>And yet as he sat down he knew that she had been guilty! To his ear +her guilt had never been confessed; but yet he knew that it was so, +and, knowing that, he had been able to speak as though her innocence +were a thing of course. That those witnesses had spoken truth he also +knew, and yet he had been able to hold them up to the execration of +all around them as though they had committed the worst of crimes from +the foulest of motives! And more than this, stranger than this, worse +than this,—when the legal world knew—as the legal world soon did +know—that all this had been so, the legal world found no fault with +Mr. Furnival, conceiving that he had done his duty by his client in a +manner becoming an English barrister and an English gentleman.</p> + + +<p><a name="c73" id="c73"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXIII.</h4> +<h3>MRS. ORME TELLS THE STORY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It was late when that second day's work was over, and when Mrs. Orme +and Lady Mason again found themselves in the Hamworth carriage. They +had sat in court from ten in the morning till past seven, with a +short interval of a few minutes in the middle of the day, and were +weary to the very soul when they left it. Lucius again led out his +mother, and as he did so he expressed to her in strong language his +approval of Mr. Furnival's speech. At last some one had spoken out on +his mother's behalf in that tone which should have been used from the +first. He had been very angry with Mr. Furnival, thinking that the +barrister had lost sight of his mother's honour, and that he was +playing with her happiness. But now he was inclined to forgive him. +Now at last the truth had been spoken in eloquent words, and the +persecutors of his mother had been addressed in language such as it +was fitting that they should hear. To him the last two hours had been +two hours of triumph, and as he passed through the hall of the court +he whispered in his mother's ear that now, at last, as he hoped, her +troubles were at an end.</p> + +<p>And another whisper had been spoken as they passed through that hall. +Mrs. Orme went out leaning on the arm of her son, but on the other +side of her was Mr. Aram. He had remained in his seat till they had +begun to move, and then he followed them. Mrs. Orme was already half +way across the court when he made his way up to her side and very +gently touched her arm.</p> + +<p>"Sir?" said she, looking round.</p> + +<p>"Do not let her be too sure," he said. "Do not let her be over +confident. All that may go for nothing with a jury." Then he lifted +his hat and left her.</p> + +<p>All that go for nothing with a jury! She hardly understood this, but +yet she felt that it all should go for nothing if right were done. +Her mind was not argumentative, nor yet perhaps was her sense of true +justice very acute. When Sir Peregrine had once hinted that it would +be well that the criminal should be pronounced guilty, because in +truth she had been guilty, Mrs. Orme by no means agreed with him. But +now, having heard how those wretched witnesses had been denounced, +knowing how true had been the words they had spoken, knowing how +false were those assurances of innocence with which Mr. Furnival had +been so fluent, she felt something of that spirit which had actuated +Sir Peregrine, and had almost thought that justice demanded a verdict +against her friend.</p> + +<p>"Do not let her be over-confident," Mr. Aram had said. But in truth +Mrs. Orme, as she had listened to Mr. Furnival's speech, had become +almost confident that Lady Mason would be acquitted. It had seemed to +her impossible that any jury should pronounce her to be guilty after +that speech. The state of her mind as she listened to it had been +very painful. Lady Mason's hand had rested in her own during a great +portion of it; and it would have been natural that she should give +some encouragement to her companion by a touch, by a slight pressure, +as the warm words of praise fell from the lawyer's mouth. But how +could she do so, knowing that the praise was false? It was not +possible to her to show her friendship by congratulating her friend +on the success of a lie. Lady Mason also had, no doubt, felt this, +for after a while her hand had been withdrawn, and they had both +listened in silence, giving no signs to each other as to their +feelings on the subject.</p> + +<p>But as they sat together in the carriage Lucius did give vent to his +feelings. "I cannot understand why all that should not have been said +before, and said in a manner to have been as convincing as it was +to-day."</p> + +<p>"I suppose there was no opportunity before the trial," said Mrs. +Orme, feeling that she must say something, but feeling also how +impossible it was to speak on the subject with any truth in the +presence both of Lady Mason and her son.</p> + +<p>"But an occasion should have been made," said Lucius. "It is +monstrous that my mother should have been subjected to this +accusation for months and that no one till now should have spoken out +to show how impossible it is that she should have been guilty."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Lucius, you do not understand," said his mother.</p> + +<p>"And I hope I never may," said he. "Why did not the jury get up in +their seats at once and pronounce their verdict when Mr. Furnival's +speech was over? Why should they wait there, giving another day of +prolonged trouble, knowing as they must do what their verdict will +be? To me all this is incomprehensible, seeing that no good can in +any way come from it."</p> + +<p>And so he went on, striving to urge his companions to speak upon a +subject which to them did not admit of speech in his presence. It was +very painful to them, for in addressing Mrs. Orme he almost demanded +from her some expression of triumph. "You at least have believed in +her innocence," he said at last, "and have not been ashamed to show +that you did so."</p> + +<p>"Lucius," said his mother, "we are very weary; do not speak to us +now. Let us rest till we are at home." Then they closed their eyes +and there was silence till the carriage drove up to the door of Orley +Farm House.</p> + +<p>The two ladies immediately went up stairs, but Lucius, with more +cheerfulness about him than he had shown for months past, remained +below to give orders for their supper. It had been a joy to him to +hear Joseph Mason and Dockwrath exposed, and to listen to those words +which had so clearly told the truth as to his mother's history. All +that torrent of indignant eloquence had been to him an enumeration of +the simple facts,—of the facts as he knew them to be,—of the facts +as they would now be made plain to all the world. At last the day had +come when the cloud would be blown away. He, looking down from the +height of his superior intellect on the folly of those below him, had +been indignant at the great delay;—but that he would now forgive.</p> + +<p>They had not been long in the house, perhaps about fifteen minutes, +when Mrs. Orme returned down stairs and gently entered the +dining-room. He was still there, standing with his back to the fire +and thinking over the work of the day.</p> + +<p>"Your mother will not come down this evening, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Not come down?"</p> + +<p>"No; she is very tired,—very tired indeed. I fear you hardly know +how much she has gone through."</p> + +<p>"Shall I go to her?" said Lucius.</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Mason, do not do that. I will return to her now. +And—but;—in a few minutes, Mr. Mason, I will come back to you +again, for I shall have something to say to you."</p> + +<p>"You will have tea here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I think not. When I have spoken to you I will go back +to your mother. I came down now in order that you might not wait for +us." And then she left the room and again went up stairs. It annoyed +him that his mother should thus keep away from him, but still he did +not think that there was any special reason for it. Mrs. Orme's +manner had been strange; but then everything around them in these +days was strange, and it did not occur to him that Mrs. Orme would +have aught to say in her promised interview which would bring to him +any new cause for sorrow.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason, when Mrs. Orme returned to her, was sitting exactly in +the position in which she had been left. Her bonnet was off and was +lying by her side, and she was seated in a large arm-chair, again +holding both her hands to the sides of her head. No attempt had been +made to smooth her hair or to remove the dust and soil which had come +from the day's long sitting in the court. She was a woman very +careful in her toilet, and scrupulously nice in all that touched her +person. But now all that had been neglected, and her whole appearance +was haggard and dishevelled.</p> + +<p>"You have not told him?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No; I have not told him yet; but I have bidden him expect me. He +knows that I am coming to him."</p> + +<p>"And how did he look?"</p> + +<p>"I did not see his face." And then there was silence between them for +a few minutes, during which Mrs. Orme stood at the back of Lady +Mason's chair with her hand on Lady Mason's shoulder. "Shall I go +now, dear?" said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"No; stay a moment; not yet. Oh, Mrs. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"You will find that you will be stronger and better able to bear it +when it has been done."</p> + +<p>"Stronger! Why should I wish to be stronger? How will he bear it?"</p> + +<p>"It will be a blow to him, of course."</p> + +<p>"It will strike him to the ground, Mrs. Orme. I shall have murdered +him. I do not think that he will live when he knows that he is so +disgraced."</p> + +<p>"He is a man, and will bear it as a man should do. Shall I do +anything for you before I go?"</p> + +<p>"Stay a moment. Why must it be to-night?"</p> + +<p>"He must not be in the court to-morrow. And what difference will one +day make? He must know it when the property is given up."</p> + +<p>Then there was a knock at the door, and a girl entered with a +decanter, two wine-glasses, and a slice or two of bread and butter. +"You must drink that," said Mrs. Orme, pouring out a glass of wine.</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will take some too. There. I shall be stronger now. Nay, Lady +Mason, you shall drink it. And now if you will take my advice you +will go to bed."</p> + +<p>"You will come to me again?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; directly it is over. Of course I shall come to you. Am I not to +stay here all night?"</p> + +<p>"But him;—I will not see him. He is not to come."</p> + +<p>"That will be as he pleases."</p> + +<p>"No. You promised that. I cannot see him when he knows what I have +done for him."</p> + +<p>"Not to hear him say that he forgives you?"</p> + +<p>"He will not forgive me. You do not know him. Could you bear to look +at your boy if you had disgraced him for ever?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever I might have done he would not desert me. Nor will Lucius +desert you. Shall I go now?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, me! Would that I were in my grave!"</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Orme bent over her and kissed her, pressed both her hands, +then kissed her again, and silently creeping out of the room made her +way once more slowly down the stairs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme, as will have been seen, was sufficiently anxious to +perform the task which she had given herself, but yet her heart sank +within her as she descended to the parlour. It was indeed a terrible +commission, and her readiness to undertake it had come not from any +feeling on her own part that she was fit for the work and could do it +without difficulty, but from the eagerness with which she had +persuaded Lady Mason that the thing must be done by some one. And now +who else could do it? In Sir Peregrine's present state it would have +been a cruelty to ask him; and then his feelings towards Lucius in +the matter were not tender as were those of Mrs. Orme. She had been +obliged to promise that she herself would do it, or otherwise she +could not have urged the doing. And now the time had come. +Immediately on their return to the house Mrs. Orme had declared that +the story should be told at once; and then Lady Mason, sinking into +the chair from which she had not since risen, had at length agreed +that it should be so. The time had now come, and Mrs. Orme, whose +footsteps down the stairs had not been audible, stood for a moment +with the handle of the door in her hand.</p> + +<p>Had it been possible she also would now have put it off till the +morrow,—would have put it off till any other time than that which +was then present. All manner of thoughts crowded on her during those +few seconds. In what way should she do it? What words should she use? +How should she begin? She was to tell this young man that his mother +had committed a crime of the very blackest dye, and now she felt that +she should have prepared herself and resolved in what fashion this +should be done. Might it not be well, she asked herself for one +moment, that she should take the night to think of it and then see +him in the morning? The idea, however, only lasted her for a moment, +and then, fearing lest she might allow herself to be seduced into +some weakness, she turned the handle and entered the room.</p> + +<p>He was still standing with his back to the fire, leaning against the +mantelpiece, and thinking over the occurrences of the day that was +past. His strongest feeling now was one of hatred to Joseph +Mason,—of hatred mixed with thorough contempt. What must men say of +him after such a struggle on his part to ruin the fame of a lady and +to steal the patrimony of a brother! "Is she still determined not to +come down?" he said as soon as he saw Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"No; she will not come down to-night, Mr. Mason. I have something +that I must tell you."</p> + +<p>"What! is she ill? Has it been too much for her?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason," she said, "I hardly know how to do what I have +undertaken." And he could see that she actually trembled as she spoke +to him.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Mrs. Orme? Is it anything about the property? I think +you need hardly be afraid of me. I believe I may say I could bear +anything of that kind."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason—" And then again she stopped herself.</p> + +<p>How was she to speak this horrible word?</p> + +<p>"Is it anything about the trial?" He was now beginning to be +frightened, feeling that something terrible was coming; but still of +the absolute truth he had no suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mr. Mason, if it were possible that I could spare you I would do +so. If there were any escape,—any way in which it might be avoided."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said he. And now his voice was hoarse and low, for a +feeling of fear had come upon him. "I am a man and can bear it, +whatever it is."</p> + +<p>"You must be a man then, for it is very terrible. Mr. Mason, that +will, you <span class="nowrap">know—"</span></p> + +<p>"You mean the codicil?"</p> + +<p>"The will that gave you the property—"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It was not done by your father."</p> + +<p>"Who says so?"</p> + +<p>"It is too sure. It was not done by him,—nor by them,—those other +people who were in the court to-day."</p> + +<p>"But who says so? How is it known? If my father did not sign it, it +is a forgery; and who forged it? Those wretches have bought over some +one and you have been deceived, Mrs. Orme. It is not of the property +I am thinking, but of my mother. If it were as you say, my mother +must have known it?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes."</p> + +<p>"And you mean that she did know it; that she knew it was a forgery?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Heaven and earth! Let me go to her. If she were to tell me so +herself I would not believe it of her. Ah! she has told you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she has told me."</p> + +<p>"Then she is mad. This has been too much for her, and her brain has +gone with it. Let me go to her, Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"No, no; you must not go to her." And Mrs. Orme put herself directly +before the door. "She is not mad,—not now. Then, at that time, we +must think she was so. It is not so now."</p> + +<p>"I cannot understand you." And he put his left hand up to his +forehead as though to steady his thoughts. "I do not understand you. +If the will be a forgery, who did it?"</p> + +<p>This question she could not answer at the moment. She was still +standing against the door, and her eyes fell to the ground. "Who did +it?" he repeated. "Whose hand wrote my father's name?"</p> + +<p>"You must be merciful, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Merciful;—to whom?"</p> + +<p>"To your mother."</p> + +<p>"Merciful to my mother! Mrs. Orme, speak out to me. If the will was +forged, who forged it? You cannot mean to tell me that she did it!"</p> + +<p>She did not answer him at the moment in words, but coming close up to +him she took both his hands in hers, and then looked steadfastly up +into his eyes. His face had now become almost convulsed with emotion, +and his brow was very black. "Do you wish me to believe that my +mother forged the will herself?" Then again he paused, but she said +nothing. "Woman, it's a lie," he exclaimed; and then tearing his +hands from her, shaking her off, and striding away with quick +footsteps, he threw himself on a sofa that stood in the furthest part +of the room.</p> + +<p>She paused for a moment and then followed him very gently. She +followed him and stood over him in silence for a moment, as he lay +with his face from her. "Mr. Mason," she said at last, "you told me +that you would bear this like a man."</p> + +<p>But he made her no answer, and she went on. "Mr. Mason, it is, as I +tell you. Years and years ago, when you were a baby, and when she +thought that your father was unjust to you—for your sake,—to remedy +that injustice, she did this thing."</p> + +<p>"What; forged his name! It must be a lie. Though an angel came to +tell me so, it would be a lie! What; my mother!" And now he turned +round and faced her, still however lying on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"It is true, Mr. Mason. Oh, how I wish that it were not! But you must +forgive her. It is years ago, and she has repented of it, Sir +Peregrine has forgiven her,—and I have done so."</p> + +<p>And then she told him the whole story. She told him why the marriage +had been broken off, and described to him the manner in which the +truth had been made known to Sir Peregrine. It need hardly be said, +that in doing so, she dealt as softly as was possible with his +mother's name; but yet she told him everything. "She wrote it +herself, in the night."</p> + +<p>"What all; all the names herself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Orme, it cannot be so. I will not believe it. To me it is +impossible. That you believe it I do not doubt, but I cannot. Let me +go to her. I will go to her myself. But even should she say so +herself, I will not believe it."</p> + +<p>But she would not let him go up stairs even though he attempted to +move her from the door, almost with violence. "No; not till you say +that you will forgive her and be gentle with her. And it must not be +to-night. We will be up early in the morning, and you can see her +before we go;—if you will be gentle to her."</p> + +<p>He still persisted that he did not believe the story, but it became +clear to her, by degrees, that the meaning of it all had at last sunk +into his mind, and that he did believe it. Over and over again she +told him all that she knew, explaining to him what his mother had +suffered, making him perceive why she had removed herself out of his +hands, and had leant on others for advice. And she told him also that +though they still hoped that the jury might acquit her, the property +must be abandoned.</p> + +<p>"I will leave the house this night if you wish it," he said.</p> + +<p>"When it is all over, when she has been acquitted and shall have gone +away, then let it be done. Mr. Mason, you will go with her; will you +not?" and then again there was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Orme, it is impossible that I should say now what I may do. It +seems to me as though I could not live through it. I do not believe +it. I cannot believe it."</p> + +<p>As soon as she had exacted a promise from him that he would not go to +his mother, at any rate without further notice, she herself went up +stairs and found Lady Mason lying on her bed. At first Mrs. Orme +thought that she was asleep, but no such comfort had come to the poor +woman. "Does he know it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme's task for that night was by no means yet done. After +remaining for a while with Lady Mason she again returned to Lucius, +and was in this way a bearer of messages between them. There was at +last no question as to doubting the story. He did believe it. He +could not avoid the necessity for such belief. "Yes," he said, when +Mrs. Orme spoke again of his leaving the place, "I will go and hide +myself; and as for <span class="nowrap">her—"</span></p> + +<p>"But you will go with her,—if the jury do not say that she was +<span class="nowrap">guilty—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Orme!"</p> + +<p>"If they do, you will come back for her, when the time of her +punishment is over? She is still your mother, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>At last the work of the night was done, and the two ladies went to +their beds. The understanding was that Lucius should see his mother +before they started in the morning, but that he should not again +accompany them to the court. Mrs. Orme's great object had been,—her +great object as regarded the present moment,—to prevent his presence +in court when the verdict should be given. In this she had succeeded. +She could now wish for an acquittal with a clear conscience; and +could as it were absolve the sinner within her own heart, seeing that +there was no longer any doubt as to the giving up of the property. +Whatever might be the verdict of the jury Joseph Mason of Groby +would, without doubt, obtain the property which belonged to him.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Mr. Mason," Mrs. Orme said at last, as she gave him her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-night. I believe that in my madness I spoke to you to-night +like a brute."</p> + +<p>"No, no. It was nothing. I did not think of it."</p> + +<p>"When you think of how it was with me, you will forgive me."</p> + +<p>She pressed his hand and again told him that she had not thought of +it. It was nothing. And indeed it had been as nothing to her. There +may be moments in a man's life when any words may be forgiven, even +though they be spoken to a woman.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Orme was gone, he stood for a while perfectly motionless in +the dining-room, and then coming out into the hall he opened the +front door, and taking his hat, went out into the night. It was still +winter, but the night, though cold and very dark, was fine, and the +air was sharp with the beginning frost. Leaving the door open he +walked forth, and passing out on to the road went down from thence to +the gate. It had been his constant practice to walk up and down from +his own hall door to his own gate on the high road, perhaps +comforting himself too warmly with the reflection that the ground on +which he walked was all his own. He had no such comfort now, as he +made his way down the accustomed path and leaned upon the gate, +thinking over what he had heard.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill73" id="ill73"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill73.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill73-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Lucius Mason, as he leaned on the Gate + that was no longer his own." /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Lucius Mason, as he leaned on the + Gate that was no longer his own.<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill73.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>A forger! At some such hour as this, with patient premeditated care, +she had gone to work and committed one of the vilest crimes known to +man. And this was his mother! And he, he, Lucius Mason, had been +living for years on the fruit of this villainy;—had been so living +till this terrible day of retribution had come upon him! I fear that +at that moment he thought more of his own misery than he did of hers, +and hardly considered, as he surely should have done, that mother's +love which had led to all this guilt. And for a moment he resolved +that he would not go back to the house. His head, he said to himself, +should never again rest under a roof which belonged of right to +Joseph Mason. He had injured Joseph Mason;—had injured him +innocently, indeed, as far as he himself was concerned; but he had +injured him greatly, and therefore now hated him all the more. "He +shall have it instantly," he said, and walked forth into the high +road as though he would not allow his feet to rest again on his +brother's property.</p> + +<p>But he was forced to remember that this could not be so. His mother's +trial was not yet over, and even in the midst of his own personal +trouble he remembered that the verdict to her was still a matter of +terrible import. He would not let it be known that he had abandoned +the property, at any rate till that verdict had been given. And then +as he moved back to the house he tried to think in what way it would +become him to behave to his mother. "She can never be my mother +again," he said to himself. They were terrible words;—but then was +not his position very terrible?</p> + +<p>And when at last he had bolted the front door, going through the +accustomed task mechanically, and had gone up stairs to his own room, +he had failed to make up his mind on this subject. Perhaps it would +be better that he should not see her. What could he say to her? What +word of comfort could he speak? It was not only that she had beggared +him! Nay; it was not that at all! But she had doomed him to a life of +disgrace which no effort of his own could wipe away. And then as he +threw himself on his bed he thought of Sophia Furnival. Would she +share his disgrace with him? Was it possible that there might be +solace there?</p> + +<p>Quite impossible, we should say, who know her well.</p> + + +<p><a name="c74" id="c74"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXIV.</h4> +<h3>YOUNG LOCHINVAR.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Judge Staveley, whose court had not been kept sitting to a late hour +by any such eloquence as that of Mr. Furnival, had gone home before +the business of the other court had closed. Augustus, who was his +father's marshal, remained for his friend, and had made his way in +among the crowd, so as to hear the end of the speech.</p> + +<p>"Don't wait dinner for us," he had said to his father. "If you do you +will be hating us all the time; and we sha'n't be there till between +eight and nine."</p> + +<p>"I should be sorry to hate you," said the judge, "and so I won't." +When therefore Felix Graham escaped from the court at about half-past +seven, the two young men were able to take their own time and eat +their dinner together comfortably, enjoying their bottle of champagne +between them perhaps more thoroughly than they would have done had +the judge and Mrs. Staveley shared it with them.</p> + +<p>But Felix had something of which to think besides the +champagne—something which was of more consequence to him even than +the trial in which he was engaged. Madeline had promised that she +would meet him that evening;—or rather had not so promised. When +asked to do so she had not refused, but even while not refusing had +reminded him that her mother would be there. Her manner to him had, +he thought, been cold, though she had not been ungracious. Upon the +whole, he could not make up his mind to expect success. "Then he must +have been a fool!" the reader learned in such matters will say. The +reader learned in such matters is, I think, right. In that respect he +was a fool.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we must give the governor the benefit of our company over +his wine," said Augustus, as soon as their dinner was over.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we ought to do so."</p> + +<p>"And why not? Is there any objection?"</p> + +<p>"To tell the truth," said Graham, "I have an appointment which I am +very anxious to keep."</p> + +<p>"An appointment? Where? Here at Noningsby, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"In this house. But yet I cannot say that it is absolutely an +appointment. I am going to ask your sister what my fate is to be."</p> + +<p>"And that is the appointment! Very well, my dear fellow; and may God +prosper you. If you can convince the governor that it is all right, I +shall make no objection. I wish, for Madeline's sake, that you had +not such a terrible bee in your bonnet."</p> + +<p>"And you will go to the judge alone?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I'll tell him—. What shall I tell him?"</p> + +<p>"The truth, if you will. Good-bye, old fellow. You will not see me +again to-night, nor yet to-morrow in this house, unless I am more +fortunate than I have any right to hope to be."</p> + +<p>"Faint heart never won fair lady, you know," said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"My heart is faint enough then; but nevertheless I shall say what I +have got to say." And then he got up from the table.</p> + +<p>"If you don't come down to us," said Augustus, "I shall come up to +you. But may God speed you. And now I'll go to the governor."</p> + +<p>Felix made his way from the small breakfast-parlour in which they had +dined across the hall into the drawing-room, and there he found Lady +Staveley alone. "So the trial is not over yet, Mr. Graham?" she said.</p> + +<p>"No; there will be another day of it."</p> + +<p>"And what will be the verdict? Is it possible that she really forged +the will?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that I cannot say. You know that I am one of her counsel, Lady +Staveley?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I should have remembered that, and been more discreet. If you +are looking for Madeline, Mr. Graham, I think that she is in the +library."</p> + +<p>"Oh! thank you;—in the library." And then Felix got himself out of +the drawing-room into the hall again not in the most graceful manner. +He might have gone direct from the drawing-room to the library, but +this he did not remember. It was very odd, he thought, that Lady +Staveley, of whose dislike to him he had felt sure, should have thus +sent him direct to her daughter, and have become a party, as it were, +to an appointment between them. But he had not much time to think of +this before he found himself in the room. There, sure enough, was +Madeline waiting to listen to his story. She was seated when he +entered, with her back to him; but as she heard him she rose, and, +after pausing for a moment, she stepped forward to meet him.</p> + +<p>"You and Augustus were very late to-day," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was kept there, and he was good enough to wait for me."</p> + +<p>"You said you wanted to—speak to me," she said, hesitating a little, +but yet very little; "to speak to me alone; and so mamma said I had +better come in here. I hope you are not vexed that I should have told +her."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, Miss Staveley."</p> + +<p>"Because I have no secrets from mamma."</p> + +<p>"Nor do I wish that anything should be secret. I hate all secrecies. +Miss Staveley, your father knows of my intention."</p> + +<p>On this point Madeline did not feel it to be necessary to say +anything. Of course her father knew of the intention. Had she not +received her father's sanction for listening to Mr. Graham she would +not have been alone with him in the library. It might be that the +time would come in which she would explain all this to her lover, but +that time had not come yet. So when he spoke of her father she +remained silent, and allowing her eyes to fall to the ground she +stood before him, waiting to hear his question.</p> + +<p>"Miss Staveley," he said;—and he was conscious himself of being very +awkward. Much more so, indeed, than there was any need, for Madeline +was not aware that he was awkward. In her eyes he was quite master of +the occasion, and seemed to have everything his own way. He had +already done all that was difficult in the matter, and had done it +without any awkwardness. He had already made himself master of her +heart, and it was only necessary now that he should enter in and take +possession. The ripe fruit had fallen, as Miss Furnival had once +chosen to express it, and there he was to pick it up,—if only he +considered it worth his trouble to do so. That manner of the picking +would not signify much, as Madeline thought. That he desired to take +it into his garner and preserve it for his life's use was everything +to her, but the method of his words at the present moment was not +much. He was her lord and master. He was the one man who had +conquered and taken possession of her spirit; and as to his being +awkward, there was not much in that. Nor do I say that he was +awkward. He spoke his mind in honest, plain terms, and I do not know +he could have done better.</p> + +<p>"Miss Staveley," he said, "in asking you to see me alone, I have made +a great venture. I am indeed risking all that I most value." And then +he paused, as though he expected that she would speak. But she still +kept her eyes upon the ground, and still stood silent before him. "I +cannot but think you must guess my purpose," he said, "though I +acknowledge that I have had nothing that can warrant me in hoping for +a favourable answer. There is my hand; if you can take it you need +not doubt that you have my heart with it." And then he held out to +her his broad, right hand.</p> + +<p>Madeline still stood silent before him and still fixed her eyes upon +the ground, but very slowly she raised her little hand and allowed +her soft slight fingers to rest upon his open palm. It was as though +she thus affixed her legal signature and seal to the deed of gift. +She had not said a word to him; not a word of love or a word of +assent; but no such word was now necessary.</p> + +<p>"Madeline, my own Madeline," he said; and then taking unfair +advantage of the fingers which she had given him he drew her to his +breast and folded her in his arms.</p> + +<p>It was nearly an hour after this when he returned to the +drawing-room. "Do go in now," she said. "You must not wait any +longer; indeed you must go."</p> + +<p>"And you—; you will come in presently."</p> + +<p>"It is already nearly eleven. No, I will not show myself again +to-night. Mamma will soon come up to me, I know. Good-night, Felix. +Do you go now, and I will follow you." And then after some further +little ceremony he left her.</p> + +<p>When he entered the drawing-room Lady Staveley was there, and the +judge with his teacup beside him, and Augustus standing with his back +to the fire. Felix walked up to the circle, and taking a chair sat +down, but at the moment said nothing.</p> + +<p>"You didn't get any wine after your day's toil, Master Graham," said +the judge.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I did, sir. We had some champagne."</p> + +<p>"Champagne, had you? Then I ought to have waited for my guest, for I +got none. You had a long day of it in court."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, sir."</p> + +<p>"And I am afraid not very satisfactory." To this Graham made no +immediate answer, but he could not refrain from thinking that the +day, taken altogether, had been satisfactory to him.</p> + +<p>And then Baker came into the room, and going close up to Lady +Staveley, whispered something in her ear. "Oh, ah, yes," said Lady +Staveley. "I must wish you good night, Mr. Graham." And she took his +hand, pressing it very warmly. But though she wished him good night +then, she saw him again before he went to bed. It was a family in +which all home affairs were very dear, and a new son could not be +welcomed into it without much expression of affection.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir! and how have you sped since dinner?" the judge asked as +soon as the door was closed behind his wife.</p> + +<p>"I have proposed to your daughter and she has accepted me." And as he +said so he rose from the chair in which he had just now seated +himself.</p> + +<p>"Then, my boy, I hope you will make her a good husband;" and the +judge gave him his hand.</p> + +<p>"I will try to do so. I cannot but feel, however, how little right I +had to ask her, seeing that I am likely to be so poor a man."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, well—we will talk of that another time. At present we +will only sing your +<span class="nowrap">triumphs—</span><br /> </p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent">"So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /> + There never was knight like the young Lochinvar."<br /> </p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"Felix, my dear fellow, I congratulate you with all my heart," said +Augustus. "But I did not know you were good as a warrior."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but he is though," said the judge. "What do you think of his +wounds? And if all that I hear be true, he has other battles on hand. +But we must not speak about that till this poor lady's trial is +over."</p> + +<p>"I need hardly tell you, sir," said Graham, with that sheep-like air +which a man always carries on such occasions, "that I regard myself +as the most fortunate man in the world."</p> + +<p>"Quite unnecessary," said the judge. "On such occasions that is taken +as a matter of course." And then the conversation between them for +the next ten minutes was rather dull and flat.</p> + +<p>Up stairs the same thing was going on, in a manner somewhat more +animated, between the mother and daughter,—for ladies on such +occasions can be more animated than men.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, you must love him," Madeline said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear; of course I shall love him now. Your papa says that he +is very clever."</p> + +<p>"I know papa likes him. I knew that from the very first. I think that +was the reason <span class="nowrap">why—"</span></p> + +<p>"And I suppose clever people are the best,—that is to say, if they +are good."</p> + +<p>"And isn't he good?"</p> + +<p>"Well—I hope so. Indeed, I'm sure he is. Mr. Orme was a very good +young man too;—but it's no good talking about him now."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, that never could have come to pass."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear. It's over now, and of course all that I looked +for was your happiness."</p> + +<p>"I know that, mamma; and indeed I am very happy. I'm sure I could not +ever have liked any one else since I first knew him."</p> + +<p>Lady Staveley still thought it very odd, but she had nothing else to +say. As regarded the pecuniary considerations of the affair she left +them altogether to her husband, feeling that in this way she could +relieve herself from misgivings which might otherwise make her +unhappy. "And after all I don't know that his ugliness signifies," +she said to herself. And so she made up her mind that she would be +loving and affectionate to him, and sat up till she heard his +footsteps in the passage, in order that she might speak to him, and +make him welcome to the privileges of a son-in-law.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Graham," she said, opening her door as he passed by.</p> + +<p>"Of course she has told you," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, she has told me. We don't have many secrets in this house. +And I'm sure I congratulate you with all my heart; and I think you +have got the very best girl in all the world. Of course I'm her +mother; but I declare, if I was to talk of her for a week, I could +not say anything of her but good."</p> + +<p>"I know how fortunate I am."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are fortunate. For there is nothing in the world equal to a +loving wife who will do her duty. And I'm sure you'll be good to +her."</p> + +<p>"I will endeavour to be so."</p> + +<p>"A man must be very bad indeed who would be bad to her,—and I don't +think that of you. And it's a great thing, Mr. Graham, that Madeline +should have loved a man of whom her papa is so fond. I don't know +what you have done to the judge, I'm sure." This she said, +remembering in the innocence of her heart that Mr. Arbuthnot had been +a son-in-law rather after her own choice, and that the judge always +declared that his eldest daughter's husband had seldom much to say +for himself.</p> + +<p>"And I hope that Madeline's mother will receive me as kindly as +Madeline's father," said he, taking Lady Staveley's hand and pressing +it.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I will. I will love you very dearly if you will let me. My +girls' husbands are the same to me as sons." Then she put up her face +and he kissed it, and so they wished each other good night.</p> + +<p>He found Augustus in his own room, and they two had hardly sat +themselves down over the fire, intending to recall the former scenes +which had taken place in that very room, when a knock was heard at +the door, and Mrs. Baker entered.</p> + +<p>"And so it's all settled, Mr. Felix," said she.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he; "all settled."</p> + +<p>"Well now! didn't I know it from the first?"</p> + +<p>"Then what a wicked old woman you were not to tell," said Augustus.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, Master Augustus. How would you like me to tell +of you;—for I could, you know?"</p> + +<p>"You wicked old woman, you couldn't do anything of the kind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, couldn't I? But I defy all the world to say a word of Miss +Madeline but what's good,—only I did know all along which way the +wind was blowing. Lord love you, Mr. Graham, when you came in here +all of a smash like, I knew it wasn't for nothing."</p> + +<p>"You think he did it on purpose then," said Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Did it on purpose? What; make up to Miss Madeline? Why, of course he +did it on purpose. He's been a-thinking of it ever since Christmas +night, when I saw you, Master Augustus, and a certain young lady when +you came out into the dark passage together."</p> + +<p>"That's a downright falsehood, Mrs. Baker."</p> + +<p>"Oh—very well. Perhaps I was mistaken. But now, Mr. Graham, if you +don't treat our Miss Madeline <span class="nowrap">well—"</span></p> + +<p>"That's just what I've been telling him," said her brother. "If he +uses her ill, as he did his former wife—breaks her heart as he did +with that <span class="nowrap">one—"</span></p> + +<p>"His former wife!" said Mrs. Baker.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you heard of that? Why, he's had two already."</p> + +<p>"Two wives already! Oh now, Master Augustus, what an old fool I am +ever to believe a word that comes out of your mouth." Then having +uttered her blessing, and having had her hand cordially grasped by +this new scion of the Staveley family, the old woman left the young +men to themselves, and went to her bed.</p> + +<p>"Now that it is done—," said Felix.</p> + +<p>"You wish it were undone."</p> + +<p>"No, by heaven! I think I may venture to say that it will never come +to me to wish that. But now that it is done, I am astonished at my +own impudence almost as much as at my success. Why should your father +have welcomed me to his house as his son-in-law, seeing how poor are +my prospects?"</p> + +<p>"Just for that reason; and because he is so different from other men. +I have no doubt that he is proud of Madeline for having liked a man +with an ugly face and no money."</p> + +<p>"If I had been beautiful like you, I shouldn't have had a chance with +him."</p> + +<p>"Not if you'd been weighted with money also. Now, as for myself, I +confess I'm not nearly so magnanimous as my father, and, for Mad's +sake, I do hope you will get rid of your vagaries. An income, I know, +is a very commonplace sort of thing; but when a man has a family +there are comforts attached to it."</p> + +<p>"I am at any rate willing to work," said Graham somewhat moodily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you may work exactly in your own way. But men in the world +can't do that. A man, as I take it, must through life allow himself +to be governed by the united wisdom of others around him. He cannot +take upon himself to judge as to every step by his own lights. If he +does, he will be dead before he has made up his mind as to the +preliminaries." And in this way Augustus Staveley from the depth of +his life's experience spoke words of worldly wisdom to his future +brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>On the next morning before he started again for Alston and his now +odious work, Graham succeeded in getting Madeline to himself for five +minutes. "I saw both your father and mother last night," said he, +"and I shall never forget their goodness to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they are good."</p> + +<p>"It seems like a dream to me that they should have accepted me as +their son-in-law."</p> + +<p>"But it is no dream to me, Felix;—or if so, I do not mean to wake +any more. I used to think that I should never care very much for +anybody out of my own family;—but +<span class="nowrap">now—"</span> And she then pressed her +little hand upon his arm.</p> + +<p>"And Felix," she said, as he prepared to leave her, "you are not to +go away from Noningsby when the trial is over. I wanted mamma to tell +you, but she said I'd better do it."</p> + + +<p><a name="c75" id="c75"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXV.</h4> +<h3>THE LAST DAY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Orme was up very early on that last morning of the trial, and +had dressed herself before Lady Mason was awake. It was now March, +but yet the morning light was hardly sufficient for her as she went +through her toilet. They had been told to be in the court very +punctually at ten, and in order to do so they must leave Orley Farm +at nine. Before that, as had been arranged over night, Lucius was to +see his mother.</p> + +<p>"You haven't told him! he doesn't know!" were the first words which +Lady Mason spoke as she raised her head from the pillow. But then she +remembered. "Ah! yes," she said, as she again sank back and hid her +face, "he knows it all now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear; he knows it all; and is it not better so? He will come +and see you, and when that is over you will be more comfortable than +you have been for years past."</p> + +<p>Lucius also had been up early, and when he learned that Mrs. Orme was +dressed, he sent up to her begging that he might see her. Mrs. Orme +at once went to him, and found him seated at the breakfast-table with +his head resting on his arm. His face was pale and haggard, and his +hair was uncombed. He had not been undressed that night, and his +clothes hung on him as they always do hang on a man who has passed a +sleepless night in them. To Mrs. Orme's inquiry after himself he +answered not a word, nor did he at first ask after his mother. "That +was all true that you told me last night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Mason; it was true."</p> + +<p>"And she and I must be outcasts for ever. I will endeavour to bear +it, Mrs. Orme. As I did not put an end to my life last night I +suppose that I shall live and bear it. Does she expect to see me?"</p> + +<p>"I told her that you would come to her this morning."</p> + +<p>"And what shall I say? I would not condemn my own mother; but how can +I not condemn her?"</p> + +<p>"Tell her at once that you will forgive her."</p> + +<p>"But it will be a lie. I have not forgiven her. I loved my mother and +esteemed her as a pure and excellent woman. I was proud of my mother. +How can I forgive her for having destroyed such feelings as those?"</p> + +<p>"There should be nothing that a son would not forgive his mother."</p> + +<p>"Ah! that is so easily spoken. Men talk of forgiveness when their +anger rankles deepest in their hearts. In the course of years I shall +forgive her. I hope I shall. But to say that I can forgive her now +would be a farce. She has broken my heart, Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"And has not she suffered herself? Is not her heart broken?"</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking of that all night. I cannot understand how she +should have lived for the last six months. Well; is it time that I +should go to her?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme again went up stairs, and after another interval of half an +hour returned to fetch him. She almost regretted that she had +undertaken to bring them together on that morning, thinking that it +might have been better to postpone the interview till the trial +should be over. She had expected that Lucius would have been softer +in his manner. But it was too late for any such thought.</p> + +<p>"You will find her dressed now, Mr. Mason," said she; "but I conjure +you, as you hope for mercy yourself, to be merciful to her. She is +your mother, and though she has injured you by her folly, her heart +has been true to you through it all. Go now, and remember that +harshness to any woman is unmanly."</p> + +<p>"I can only act as I think best," he replied in that low stern voice +which was habitual to him; and then with slow steps he went up to his +mother's room.</p> + +<p>When he entered it she was standing with her eyes fixed upon the door +and her hands clasped together. So she stood till he had closed the +door behind him, and had taken a few steps on towards the centre of +the room. Then she rushed forward, and throwing herself on the ground +before him clasped him round the knees with her arms. "My boy, my +boy!" she said. And then she lay there bathing his feet with her +tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh! mother, what is this that she has told me?"</p> + +<p>But Lady Mason at the moment spoke no further words. It seemed as +though her heart would have burst with sobs, and when for a moment +she lifted up her face to his, the tears were streaming down her +cheeks. Had it not been for that relief she could not have borne the +sufferings which were heaped upon her.</p> + +<p>"Mother, get up," he said. "Let me raise you. It is dreadful that you +should lie there. Mother, let me lift you." But she still clung to +his knees, grovelling on the ground before him. "Lucius, Lucius," she +said, and she then sank away from him as though the strength of her +muscles would no longer allow her to cling to him. She sank away from +him and lay along the ground hiding her face upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he said, taking her gently by the arm as he knelt at her +side, "if you will rise I will speak to you."</p> + +<p>"Your words will kill me," she said. "I do not dare to look at you. +Oh! Lucius, will you ever forgive me?"</p> + +<p>And yet she had done it all for him. She had done a rascally deed, an +hideous cut-throat deed, but it had been done altogether for him. No +thought of her own aggrandisement had touched her mind when she +resolved upon that forgery. As Rebekah had deceived her lord and +robbed Esau, the first-born, of his birthright, so had she robbed him +who was as Esau to her. How often had she thought of that, while her +conscience was pleading hard against her! Had it been imputed as a +crime to Rebekah that she had loved her own son well, and loving him +had put a crown upon his head by means of her matchless guile? Did +she love Lucius, her babe, less than Rebekah had loved Jacob? And had +she not striven with the old man, struggling that she might do this +just thing without injustice, till in his anger he had thrust her +from him. "I will not break my promise for the brat," the old man had +said;—and then she did the deed. But all that was as nothing now. +She felt no comfort now from that Bible story which had given her +such encouragement before the thing was finished. Now the result of +evil-doing had come full home to her, and she was seeking pardon with +a broken heart, while burning tears furrowed her cheeks,—not from +him whom she had thought to injure, but from the child of her own +bosom, for whose prosperity she had been so anxious.</p> + +<p>Then she slowly arose and allowed him to place her upon the sofa. +"Mother," he said, "it is all over here."</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes."</p> + +<p>"Whither we had better go, I cannot yet say,—or when. We must wait +till this day is ended."</p> + +<p>"Lucius, I care nothing for myself,—nothing. It is nothing to me +whether or no they say that I am guilty. It is of you only that I am +thinking."</p> + +<p>"Our lot, mother, must still be together. If they find you guilty you +will be imprisoned, and then I will go, and come back when they +release you. For you and me the future world will be very different +from the past."</p> + +<p>"It need not be so,—for you, Lucius. I do not wish to keep you near +me now."</p> + +<p>"But I shall be near you. Where you hide your shame there will I hide +mine. In this world there is nothing left for us. But there is +another world before you,—if you can repent of your sin." This too +he said very sternly, standing somewhat away from her, and frowning +the while with those gloomy eyebrows. Sad as was her condition he +might have given her solace, could he have taken her by the hand and +kissed her. Peregrine Orme would have done so, or Augustus Staveley, +could it have been possible that they should have found themselves in +that position. Though Lucius Mason could not do so, he was not less +just than they, and, it may be, not less loving in his heart. He +could devote himself for his mother's sake as absolutely as could +they. But to some is given and to some is denied that cruse of +heavenly balm with which all wounds can be assuaged and sore hearts +ever relieved of some portion of their sorrow. Of all the virtues +with which man can endow himself surely none other is so odious as +that justice which can teach itself to look down upon mercy almost as +a vice!</p> + +<p>"I will not ask you to forgive me," she said, plaintively.</p> + +<p>"Mother," he answered, "were I to say that I forgave you my words +would be a mockery. I have no right either to condemn or to forgive. +I accept my position as it has been made for me, and will endeavour +to do my duty."</p> + +<p>It would have been almost better for her that he should have +upbraided her for her wickedness. She would then have fallen again +prostrate before him, if not in body at least in spirit, and her +weakness would have stood for her in place of strength. But now it +was necessary that she should hear his words and bear his +looks,—bear them like a heavy burden on her back without absolutely +sinking. It had been that necessity of bearing and never absolutely +sinking which, during years past, had so tried and tested the +strength of her heart and soul. Seeing that she had not sunk, we may +say that her strength had been very wonderful.</p> + +<p>And then she stood up and came close to him. "But you will give me +your hand, Lucius?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother; there is my hand. I shall stand by you through it all." +But he did not offer to kiss her; and there was still some pride in +her heart which would not allow her to ask him for an embrace.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, "it is time that you should prepare to go. Mrs. +Orme thinks it better that I should not accompany you."</p> + +<p>"No, Lucius, no; you must not hear them proclaim my guilt in court."</p> + +<p>"That would make but little difference. But nevertheless I will not +go. Had I known this before I should not have gone there. It was to +testify my belief in your innocence; nay, my +<span class="nowrap">conviction—"</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Lucius, spare me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I will speak of it no more. I shall be here to-night when you +come back."</p> + +<p>"But if they say that I am guilty they will take me away."</p> + +<p>"If so I will come to you,—in the morning if they will let me. But, +mother, in any case I must leave this house to-morrow." Then again he +gave her his hand, but he left her without touching her with his +lips.</p> + +<p>When the two ladies appeared in court together without Lucius Mason +there was much question among the crowd as to the cause of his +absence. Both Dockwrath and Joseph Mason looked at it in the right +light, and accepted it as a ground for renewed hope. "He dare not +face the verdict," said Dockwrath. And yet when they had left the +court on the preceding evening, after listening to Mr. Furnival's +speech, their hopes had not been very high. Dockwrath had not +admitted with words that he feared defeat, but when Mason had gnashed +his teeth as he walked up and down his room at Alston, and striking +the table with his clenched fist had declared his fears, "By heavens +they will escape me again!" Dockwrath had not been able to give him +substantial comfort. "The jury are not such fools as to take all that +for gospel," he had said. But he had not said it with that tone of +assured conviction which he had always used till Mr. Furnival's +speech had been made. There could have been no greater attestation to +the power displayed by Mr. Furnival than Mr. Mason's countenance as +he left the court on that evening. "I suppose it will cost me +hundreds of pounds," he said to Dockwrath that evening. "Orley Farm +will pay for it all," Dockwrath had answered; but his answer had +shown no confidence. And, if we think well of it, Joseph Mason was +deserving of pity. He wanted only what was his own; and that Orley +Farm ought to be his own he had no smallest doubt. Mr. Furnival had +not in the least shaken him; but he had made him feel that others +would be shaken. "If it could only be left to the judge," thought Mr. +Mason to himself. And then he began to consider whether this British +palladium of an unanimous jury had not in it more of evil than of +good.</p> + +<p>Young Peregrine Orme again met his mother at the door of the court, +and at her instance gave his arm to Lady Mason. Mr. Aram was also +there; but Mr. Aram had great tact, and did not offer his arm to Mrs. +Orme, contenting himself with making a way for her and walking beside +her. "I am glad that her son has not come to-day," he said, not +bringing his head suspiciously close to hers, but still speaking so +that none but she might hear him. "He has done all the good that he +could do, and as there is only the judge's charge to hear, the jury +will not notice his absence. Of course we hope for the best, Mrs. +Orme, but it is doubtful."</p> + +<p>As Felix Graham took his place next to Chaffanbrass, the old lawyer +scowled at him, turning his red old savage eyes first on him and then +from him, growling the while, so that the whole court might notice +it. The legal portion of the court did notice it and were much +amused. "Good morning, Mr. Chaffanbrass," said Graham quite aloud as +he took his seat; and then Chaffanbrass growled again. Considering +the lights with which he had been lightened, there was a species of +honesty about Mr. Chaffanbrass which certainly deserved praise. He +was always true to the man whose money he had taken, and gave to his +customer, with all the power at his command, that assistance which he +had professed to sell. But we may give the same praise to the hired +bravo who goes through with truth and courage the task which he has +undertaken. I knew an assassin in Ireland who professed that during +twelve years of practice in Tipperary he had never failed when he had +once engaged himself. For truth and honesty to their customers—which +are great virtues—I would bracket that man and Mr. Chaffanbrass +together.</p> + +<p>And then the judge commenced his charge, and as he went on with it he +repeated all the evidence that was in any way of moment, pulling the +details to pieces, and dividing that which bore upon the subject from +that which did not. This he did with infinite talent and with a +perspicuity beyond all praise. But to my thinking it was remarkable +that he seemed to regard the witnesses as a dissecting surgeon may be +supposed to regard the subjects on which he operates for the +advancement of science. With exquisite care he displayed what each +had said and how the special saying of one bore on that special +saying of another. But he never spoke of them as though they had been +live men and women who were themselves as much entitled to justice at +his hands as either the prosecutor in this matter or she who was +being prosecuted; who, indeed, if anything, were better entitled +unless he could show that they were false and suborned; for unless +they were suborned or false they were there doing a painful duty to +the public, for which they were to receive no pay and from which they +were to obtain no benefit. Of whom else in that court could so much +be said? The judge there had his ermine and his canopy, his large +salary and his seat of honour. And the lawyers had their wigs, and +their own loud voices, and their places of precedence. The attorneys +had their seats and their big tables, and the somewhat familiar +respect of the tipstaves. The jury, though not much to be envied, +were addressed with respect and flattery, had their honourable seats, +and were invariably at least called gentlemen. But why should there +be no seat of honour for the witnesses? To stand in a box, to be +bawled after by the police, to be scowled at and scolded by the +judge, to be browbeaten and accused falsely by the barristers, and +then to be condemned as perjurers by the jury,—that is the fate of +the one person who during the whole trial is perhaps entitled to the +greatest respect, and is certainly entitled to the most public +gratitude. Let the witness have a big arm-chair, and a canopy over +him, and a man behind him with a red cloak to do him honour and keep +the flies off; let him be gently invited to come forward from some +inner room where he can sit before a fire. Then he will be able to +speak out, making himself heard without scolding, and will perhaps be +able to make a fair fight with the cocks who can crow so loudly on +their own dunghills.</p> + +<p>The judge in this case did his work with admirable skill, blowing +aside the froth of Mr. Furnival's eloquence, and upsetting the +sophistry and false deductions of Mr. Chaffanbrass. The case for the +jury, as he said, hung altogether upon the evidence of Kenneby and +the woman Bolster. As far as he could see, the evidence of Dockwrath +had little to do with it; and alleged malice and greed on the part of +Dockwrath could have nothing to do with it. The jury might take it as +proved that Lady Mason at the former trial had sworn that she had +been present when her husband signed the codicil and had seen the +different signatures affixed to it. They might also take it as +proved, that that other deed,—the deed purporting to close a +partnership between Sir Joseph Mason and Mr. Martock,—had been +executed on the 14th of July, and that it had been signed by Sir +Joseph, and also by those two surviving witnesses, Kenneby and +Bolster. The question, therefore, for the consideration of the jury +had narrowed itself to this: had two deeds been executed by Sir +Joseph Mason, both bearing the same date? If this had not been done, +and if that deed with reference to the partnership were a true deed, +then must the other be false and fraudulent; and if false and +fraudulent, then must Lady Mason have sworn falsely, and been guilty +of that perjury with which she was now charged. There might, perhaps, +be one loophole to this argument by which an escape was possible. +Though both deeds bore the date of 14th July, there might have been +error in this. It was possible, though no doubt singular, that that +date should have been inserted in the partnership deed, and the deed +itself be executed afterwards. But then the woman Bolster told them +that she had been called to act as witness but once in her life, and +if they believed her in that statement, the possibility of error as +to the date would be of little or no avail on behalf of Lady Mason. +For himself, he could not say that adequate ground had been shown for +charging Bolster with swearing falsely. No doubt she had been +obstinate in her method of giving her testimony, but that might have +arisen from an honest resolution on her part not to allow herself to +be shaken. The value of her testimony must, however, be judged by the +jury themselves. As regarded Kenneby, he must say that the man had +been very stupid. No one who had heard him would accuse him for a +moment of having intended to swear falsely, but the jury might +perhaps think that the testimony of such a man could not be taken as +having much value with reference to circumstances which happened more +than twenty years since.</p> + +<p>The charge took over two hours, but the substance of it has been +stated. Then the jury retired to consider their verdict, and the +judge, and the barristers, and some other jury proceeded to the +business of some other and less important trial. Lady Mason and Mrs. +Orme sat for a while in their seats—perhaps for a space of twenty +minutes—and then, as the jury did not at once return into court, +they retired to the sitting-room in which they had first been placed. +Here Mr. Aram accompanied them, and here they were of course met by +Peregrine Orme.</p> + +<p>"His lordship's charge was very good—very good, indeed," said Mr. +Aram.</p> + +<p>"Was it?" asked Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"And very much in our favour," continued the attorney.</p> + +<p>"You think then," said Mrs. Orme, looking up into his face, "you +think <span class="nowrap">that—"</span> But she did not +know how to go on with her question.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. I think we shall have a verdict; I do, indeed. I would +not say so before Lady Mason if my opinion was not very strong. The +jury may disagree. That is not improbable. But I cannot anticipate +that the verdict will be against us."</p> + +<p>There was some comfort in this; but how wretched was the nature of +the comfort! Did not the attorney, in every word which he spoke, +declare his own conviction of his client's guilt. Even Peregrine Orme +could not say out boldly that he felt sure of an acquittal because no +other verdict could be justly given. And then why was not Mr. +Furnival there, taking his friend by the hand and congratulating her +that her troubles were so nearly over? Mr. Furnival at this time did +not come near her; and had he done so, what could he have said to +her?</p> + +<p>He and Sir Richard Leatherham left the court together, and the latter +went at once back to London without waiting to hear the verdict. Mr. +Chaffanbrass also, and Felix Graham retired from the scene of their +labours, and as they did so, a few words were spoken between them.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Graham," said the ancient hero of the Old Bailey, "you are too +great for this kind of work I take it. If I were you, I would keep +out of it for the future."</p> + +<p>"I am very much of the same way of thinking, Mr. Chaffanbrass," said +the other.</p> + +<p>"If a man undertakes a duty, he should do it. That's my opinion, +though I confess it's a little old fashioned; especially if he takes +money for it, Mr. Graham." And then the old man glowered at him with +his fierce eyes, and nodded his head and went on. What could Graham +say to him? His answer would have been ready enough had there been +time or place in which to give it. But he had no answer ready which +was fit for the crowded hall of the court-house, and so Mr. +Chaffanbrass went on his way. He will now pass out of our sight, and +we will say of him, that he did his duty well according to his +lights.</p> + +<p>There, in that little room, sat Lady Mason and Mrs. Orme till late in +the evening, and there, with them, remained Peregrine. Some sort of +refreshment was procured for them, but of the three days they passed +in the court, that, perhaps, was the most oppressive. There was no +employment for them, and then the suspense was terrible! That +suspense became worse and worse as the hours went on, for it was +clear that at any rate some of the jury were anxious to give a +verdict against her. "They say that there's eight and four," said Mr. +Aram, at one of the many visits which he made to them; "but there's +no saying how true that may be."</p> + +<p>"Eight and four!" said Peregrine.</p> + +<p>"Eight to acquit, and four for guilty," said Aram. "If so, we're +safe, at any rate, till the next assizes."</p> + +<p>But it was not fated that Lady Mason should be sent away from the +court in doubt. At eight o'clock Mr. Aram came to them, hot with +haste, and told them that the jury had sent for the judge. The judge +had gone home to his dinner, but would return to court at once when +he heard that the jury had agreed.</p> + +<p>"And must we go into court again?" said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Lady Mason must do so."</p> + +<p>"Then of course I shall go with her. Are you ready now, dear?"</p> + +<p>Lady Mason was unable to speak, but she signified that she was ready, +and then they went into court. The jury were already in the box, and +as the two ladies took their seats, the judge entered. But few of the +gas-lights were lit, so that they in the court could hardly see each +other, and the remaining ceremony did not take five minutes.</p> + +<p>"Not guilty, my lord," said the foreman. Then the verdict was +recorded, and the judge went back to his dinner. Joseph Mason and +Dockwrath were present and heard the verdict. I will leave the reader +to imagine with what an appetite they returned to their chamber.</p> + + +<p><a name="c76" id="c76"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXVI.</h4> +<h3>I LOVE HER STILL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>It was all over now, and as Lucius had said to his mother, there was +nothing left for them but to go and hide themselves. The verdict had +reached him before his mother's return, and on the moment of his +hearing it he sat down and commenced the following letter to Mr. +<span class="nowrap">Furnival:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Orley Farm, March —, 18—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dear Sir</span>,</p> + +<p>I beg to thank you, in my mother's name, for your great +exertions in the late trial. I must acknowledge that I +have been wrong in thinking that you gave her bad advice, +and am now convinced that you acted with the best judgment +on her behalf. May I beg that you will add to your great +kindness by inducing the gentlemen who undertook the +management of the case as my mother's attorneys to let me +know as soon as possible in what sum I am indebted to +them?</p> + +<p>I believe I need trouble you with no preamble as to my +reasons when I tell you that I have resolved to abandon +immediately any title that I may have to the possession of +Orley Farm, and to make over the property at once, in any +way that may be most efficacious, to my half-brother, Mr. +Joseph Mason, of Groby Park. I so strongly feel the +necessity of doing this at once, without even a day's +delay, that I shall take my mother to lodgings in London +to-morrow, and shall then decide on what steps it may be +best that we shall take. My mother will be in possession +of about £200 a year, subject to such deduction as the +cost of the trial may make from it.</p> + +<p>I hope that you will not think that I intrude upon you too +far when I ask you to communicate with my brother's +lawyers on the subject of this surrender. I do not know +how else to do it; and of course you will understand that +I wish to screen my mother's name as much as may be in my +power with due regard to honesty. I hope I need not insist +on the fact,—for it is a fact,—that nothing will change +my purpose as to this. If I cannot have it done through +you, I must myself go to Mr. Round. I am, moreover, aware +that in accordance with strict justice my brother should +have upon me a claim for the proceeds of the estate since +the date of our father's death. If he wishes it I will +give him such claim, making myself his debtor by any form +that may be legal. He must, however, in such case be made +to understand that his claim will be against a beggar; +but, nevertheless, it may suit his views to have such a +claim upon me. I cannot think that, under the +circumstances, I should be justified in calling on my +mother to surrender her small income; but should you be of +a different opinion, it shall be done.</p> + +<p>I write thus to you at once as I think that not a day +should be lost. I will trouble you with another line from +London, to let you know what is our immediate address.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind10">Pray believe me to be</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">Yours, faithfully and obliged,</span></p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Lucius Mason</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">T. Furnival, Esq.,<br /> +<span class="ind2">Old Square, Lincoln's Inn Fields.</span><br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>As soon as he had completed this letter, which was sufficiently good +for its purpose, and clearly explained what was the writer's will on +the subject of it, he wrote another, which I do not think was equally +efficacious. The second was addressed to Miss Furnival, and being a +love letter, was not so much within the scope of the writer's +peculiar powers.<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">Dearest Sophia</span>,</p> + +<p>I hardly know how to address you; or what I should tell +you or what conceal. Were we together, and was that +promise renewed which you once gave me, I should tell you +all;—but this I cannot do by letter. My mother's trial is +over, and she is acquitted; but that which I have learned +during the trial has made me feel that I am bound to +relinquish to my brother-in-law all my title to Orley +Farm, and I have already taken the first steps towards +doing so. Yes, Sophia, I am now a beggar on the face of +the world. I have nothing belonging to me, save those +powers of mind and body which God has given me; and I am, +moreover, a man oppressed with a terribly heavy load of +grief. For some short time I must hide myself with my +mother; and then, when I shall have been able to brace my +mind to work, I shall go forth and labour in whatever +field may be open to me.</p> + +<p>But before I go, Sophia, I wish to say a word of farewell +to you, that I may understand on what terms we part. Of +course I make no claim. I am aware that that which I now +tell you must be held as giving you a valid excuse for +breaking any contract that there may have been between us. +But, nevertheless, I have hope. That I love you very +dearly I need hardly now say; and I still venture to think +that the time may come when I shall again prove myself to +be worthy of your hand. If you have ever loved me you +cannot cease to do so merely because I am unfortunate; and +if you love me still, perhaps you will consent to wait. If +you will do so,—if you will say that I am rich in that +respect,—I shall go to my banishment not altogether a +downcast man.</p> + +<p class="ind8">May I say that I am still your own</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Lucius +Mason</span>?<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>No; he decidedly might not say so. But as the letter was not yet +finished when his mother and Mrs. Orme returned, I will not +anticipate matters by giving Miss Furnival's reply.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme came back that night to Orley Farm, but without the +intention of remaining there. Her task was over, and it would be well +that she should return to The Cleeve. Her task was over; and as the +hour must come in which she would leave the mother in the hands of +her son, the present hour would be as good as any.</p> + +<p>They again went together to the room which they had shared for the +last night or two, and there they parted. They had not been there +long when the sound of wheels was heard on the gravel, and Mrs. Orme +got up from her seat. "There is Peregrine with the carriage," said +she.</p> + +<p>"And you are going?" said Lady Mason.</p> + +<p>"If I could do you good, I would stay," said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"No, no; of course you must go. Oh, my darling, oh, my friend," and +she threw herself into the other's arms.</p> + +<p>"Of course I will write to you," said Mrs. Orme. "I will do so +regularly."</p> + +<p>"May God bless you for ever. But it is needless to ask for blessings +on such as you. You are blessed."</p> + +<p>"And you too;—if you will turn to Him you will be blessed."</p> + +<p>"Ah me. Well, I can try now. I feel that I can at any rate try."</p> + +<p>"And none who try ever fail. And now, dear, good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, my angel. But, Mrs. Orme, I have one word I must first +say; a message that I must send to him. Tell him this, that never in +my life have I loved any man as well as I have loved him and as I do +love him. That on my knees I beg his pardon for the wrong I have done +him."</p> + +<p>"But he knows how great has been your goodness to him."</p> + +<p>"When the time came I was not quite a devil to drag him down with me +to utter destruction!"</p> + +<p>"He will always remember what was your conduct then."</p> + +<p>"But tell him, that though I loved him, and though I loved you with +all my heart,—with all my heart, I knew through it all, as I know +now, that I was not a fitting friend for him or you. No; do not +interrupt me, I always knew it; and though it was so sweet to me to +see your faces, I would have kept away; but that he would not have +it. I came to him to assist me because he was great and strong, and +he took me to his bosom with his kindness, till I destroyed his +strength; though his greatness nothing can destroy."</p> + +<p>"No, no; he does not think that you have injured him."</p> + +<p>"But tell him what I say; and tell him that a poor bruised, broken +creature, who knows at least her own vileness, will pray for him +night and morning. And now good-bye. Of my heart towards you I cannot +speak."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye then, and, Lady Mason, never despair. There is always room +for hope; and where there is hope there need not be unhappiness."</p> + +<p>Then they parted, and Mrs. Orme went down to her son.</p> + +<p>"Mother, the carriage is here," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard it. Where is Lucius? Good-bye, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"God bless you, Mrs. Orme. Believe me I know how good you have been +to us."</p> + +<p>As she gave him her hand, she spoke a few words to him. "My last +request to you, Mr. Mason, is to beg that you will be tender to your +mother."</p> + +<p>"I will do my best, Mrs. Orme."</p> + +<p>"All her sufferings and your own, have come from her great love for +you."</p> + +<p>"That I know and feel, but had her ambition for me been less it would +have been better for both of us." And there he stood bare-headed at +the door while Peregrine Orme handed his mother into the carriage. +Thus Mrs. Orme took her last leave of Orley Farm, and was parted from +the woman she had loved with so much truth and befriended with so +much loyalty.</p> + +<p>Very few words were spoken in the carriage between Peregrine and his +mother while they were being taken back through Hamworth to The +Cleeve. To Peregrine the whole matter was unintelligible. He knew +that the verdict had been in favour of Lady Mason, and yet there had +been no signs of joy at Orley Farm, or even of contentment. He had +heard also from Lucius, while they had been together for a few +minutes, that Orley Farm was to be given up.</p> + +<p>"You'll let it I suppose," Peregrine had asked.</p> + +<p>"It will not be mine to let. It will belong to my brother," Lucius +had answered. Then Peregrine had asked no further question; nor had +Lucius offered any further information.</p> + +<p>But his mother, as he knew, was worn out with the work she had done, +and at the present moment he felt that the subject was one which +would hardly bear questions. So he sat by her side in silence; and +before the carriage had reached The Cleeve his mind had turned away +from the cares and sorrows of Lady Mason, and was once more at +Noningsby. After all, as he said to himself, who could be worse off +than he was. He had nothing to hope.</p> + +<p>They found Sir Peregrine standing in the hall to receive them, and +Mrs. Orme, though she had been absent only three days, could not but +perceive the havoc which this trial had made upon him. It was not +that the sufferings of those three days had broken him down, but that +now, after that short absence, she was able to perceive how great had +been upon him the effect of his previous sufferings. He had never +held up his head since the day on which Lady Mason had made to him +her first confession. Up to that time he had stood erect, and though +as he walked his steps had shown that he was no longer young, he had +walked with a certain air of strength and manly bearing. Till Lady +Mason had come to The Cleeve no one would have said that Sir +Peregrine looked as though his energy and life had passed away. But +now, as he put his arm round his daughter's waist, and stooped down +to kiss her cheek, he was a worn-out, tottering old man.</p> + +<p>During these three days he had lived almost altogether alone, and had +been ashamed to show to those around him the intense interest which +he felt in the result of the trial. His grandson had on each day +breakfasted alone, and had left the house before his grandfather was +out of his room; and on each evening he had returned late,—as he now +returned with his mother,—and had dined alone. Then he had sat with +his grandfather for an hour or two, and had been constrained to talk +over the events of the day without being allowed to ask Sir +Peregrine's opinion as to Lady Mason's innocence or to express his +own. These three days had been dreadful to Sir Peregrine. He had not +left the house, but had crept about from room to room, ever and again +taking up some book or paper and putting it down unread, as his mind +reverted to the one subject which now for him bore any interest. On +the second of these three days a note had been brought to him from +his old friend Lord Alston. "Dear Orme," the note had run, "I am not +quite happy as I think of the manner in which we parted the other +day. If I offended in any degree, I send this as a peacemaker, and +beg to shake your hand heartily. Let me have a line from you to say +that it is all right between us. Neither you nor I can afford to lose +an old friend at our time of life. Yours always, Alston." But Sir +Peregrine had not answered it. Lord Alston's servant had been +dismissed with a promise that an answer should be sent, but at the +end of the three days it had not yet been written. His mind indeed +was still sore towards Lord Alston. The counsel which his old friend +had given him was good and true, but it had been neglected, and its +very truth and excellence now made the remembrance of it unpalatable. +He had, nevertheless, intended to write; but the idea of such +exertion from hour to hour had become more distressing to him.</p> + +<p>He had of course heard of Lady Mason's acquittal; and indeed tidings +of the decision to which the jury had come went through the country +very quickly. There is a telegraphic wire for such tidings which has +been very long in use, and which, though always used, is as yet but +very little understood. How is it that information will spread itself +quicker than men can travel, and make its way like water into all +parts of the world? It was known all through the country that night +that Lady Mason was acquitted; and before the next night it was as +well known that she had acknowledged her guilt by giving up the +property.</p> + +<p>Little could be said as to the trial while Peregrine remained in the +room with his mother and his grandfather; but this he had the tact to +perceive, and soon left them together. "I shall see you, mother, up +stairs before you go to bed," he said as he sauntered out.</p> + +<p>"But you must not keep her up," said his grandfather. "Remember all +that she has gone through." With this injunction he went off, and as +he sat alone in his mother's room he tried to come to some resolution +as to Noningsby. He knew he had no ground for hope;—no chance, as he +would have called it. And if so, would it not be better that he +should take himself off? Nevertheless he would go to Noningsby once +more. He would not be such a coward but that he would wish her +good-bye before he went, and hear the end of it all from her own +lips.</p> + +<p>When he had left the room Lady Mason's last message was given to Sir +Peregrine. "Poor soul, poor soul!" he said, as Mrs. Orme began her +story. "Her son knows it all then now."</p> + +<p>"I told him last night,—with her consent; so that he should not go +into the court to-day. It would have been very bad, you know, if they +had—found her guilty."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; very bad—very bad indeed. Poor creature! And so you told +him. How did he bear it?"</p> + +<p>"On the whole, well. At first he would not believe me."</p> + +<p>"As for me, I could not have done it. I could not have told him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, you would;—you would, if it had been required of you."</p> + +<p>"I think it would have killed me. But a woman can do things for which +a man's courage would never be sufficient. And he bore it manfully."</p> + +<p>"He was very stern."</p> + +<p>"Yes;—and he will be stern. Poor soul!—I pity her from my very +heart. But he will not desert her; he will do his duty by her."</p> + +<p>"I am sure he will. In that respect he is a good young man."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear. He is one of those who seem by nature created to bear +adversity. No trouble or sorrow would I think crush him. But had +prosperity come to him, it would have made him odious to all around +him. You were not present when they met?"</p> + +<p>"No—I thought it better to leave them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. And he will give up the place at once."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow he will do so. In that at any rate he has true spirit. +To-morrow early they will go to London, and she I suppose will never +see Orley Farm again." And then Mrs. Orme gave Sir Peregrine that +last message.—"I tell you everything as she told me," Mrs. Orme +said, seeing how deeply he was affected. "Perhaps I am wrong."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," he said.</p> + +<p>"Coming at such a moment, her words seemed to be almost sacred."</p> + +<p>"They are sacred. They shall be sacred. Poor soul, poor soul!"</p> + +<p>"She did a great crime."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"But if a crime can be forgiven,—can be excused on account of its +<span class="nowrap">motives—"</span></p> + +<p>"It cannot, my dear. Nothing can be forgiven on that ground."</p> + +<p>"No; we know that; we all feel sure of that. But yet how can one help +loving her? For myself, I shall love her always."</p> + +<p>"And I also love her." And then the old man made his confession. "I +loved her well;—better than I had ever thought to love any one +again, but you and Perry. I loved her very dearly, and felt that I +should have been proud to have called her my wife. How beautiful she +was in her sorrow, when we thought that her life had been pure and +good!"</p> + +<p>"And it had been good,—for many years past."</p> + +<p>"No; for the stolen property was still there. But yet how graceful +she was, and how well her sorrows sat upon her! What might she not +have done had the world used her more kindly, and not sent in her way +that sore temptation! She was a woman for a man to have loved to +madness."</p> + +<p>"And yet how little can she have known of love!"</p> + +<p>"I loved her." And as the old man said so he rose to his feet with +some show of his old energy. "I loved her,—with all my heart! It is +foolish for an old man so to say; but I did love her; nay, I love her +still. But that I knew that it would be wrong,—for your sake, and +for <span class="nowrap">Perry's—"</span> And then he stopped +himself, as though he would fain +hear what she might say to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is all over now," she said in the softest, sweetest, lowest +voice. She knew that she was breaking down a last hope, but she knew +also that that hope was vain. And then there was silence in the room +for some ten minutes' space.</p> + +<p>"It is all over," he then said, repeating her last words.</p> + +<p>"But you have us still,—Perry and me. Can any one love you better +than we do?" And she got up and went over to him and stood by him, +and leaned upon him.</p> + +<p>"Edith, my love, since you came to my house there has been an angel +in it watching over me. I shall know that always; and when I turn my +face to the wall, as I soon shall, that shall be my last earthly +thought." And so in tears they parted for that night. But the sorrow +that was bringing him to his grave came from the love of which he had +spoken. It is seldom that a young man may die from a broken heart; +but if an old man have a heart still left to him, it is more fragile.</p> + + +<p><a name="c77" id="c77"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXVII.</h4> +<h3>JOHN KENNEBY'S DOOM.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>On the evening but one after the trial was over Mr. Moulder +entertained a few friends to supper at his apartments in Great St. +Helen's, and it was generally understood that in doing so he intended +to celebrate the triumph of Lady Mason. Through the whole affair he +had been a strong partisan on her side, had expressed a very loud +opinion in favour of Mr. Furnival, and had hoped that that scoundrel +Dockwrath would get all that he deserved from the hands of Mr. +Chaffanbrass. When the hour of Mr. Dockwrath's punishment had come he +had been hardly contented, but the inadequacy of Kenneby's testimony +had restored him to good humour, and the verdict had made him +triumphant.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I know it, old fellow?" he had said, slapping his friend +Snengkeld on the back. "When such a low scoundrel as Dockwrath is +pitted against a handsome woman like Lady Mason he'll not find a jury +in England to give a verdict in his favour." Then he asked Snengkeld +to come to his little supper; and Kantwise also he invited, though +Kantwise had shown Dockwrath tendencies throughout the whole +affair;—but Moulder was fond of Kantwise as a butt for his own +sarcasm. Mrs. Smiley, too, was asked, as was natural, seeing that she +was the betrothed bride of one of the heroes of the day; and Moulder, +in the kindness of his heart, swore that he never was proud, and told +Bridget Bolster that she would be welcome to take a share of what was +going.</p> + +<p>"Laws, M.," said Mrs. Moulder, when she was told of this. "A +chambermaid from an inn! What will Mrs. Smiley say?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't going to trouble myself with what Mother Smiley may say or +think about my friends. If she don't like it, she may do the other +thing. What was she herself when you first knew her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Moulder; but then money do make a difference, you know."</p> + +<p>Bridget Bolster, however, was invited, and she came in spite of the +grandeur of Mrs. Smiley. Kenneby also of course was there, but he was +not in a happy frame of mind. Since that wretched hour in which he +had heard himself described by the judge as too stupid to be held of +any account by the jury he had become a melancholy, misanthropic man. +The treatment which he received from Mr. Furnival had been very +grievous to him, but he had borne with that, hoping that some word of +eulogy from the judge would set him right in the public mind. But no +such word had come, and poor John Kenneby felt that the cruel hard +world was too much for him. He had been with his sister that morning, +and words had dropped from him which made her fear that he would wish +to postpone his marriage for another space of ten years or so. +"Brick-fields!" he had said. "What can such a one as I have to do +with landed property? I am better as I am."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Smiley, however, did not at all seem to think so, and welcomed +John Kenneby back from Alston very warmly in spite of the disgrace to +which he had been subjected. It was nothing to her that the judge had +called her future lord a fool; nor indeed was it anything to any one +but himself. According to Moulder's views it was a matter of course +that a witness should be abused. For what other purpose was he had +into the court? But deep in the mind of poor Kenneby himself the +injurious words lay festering. He had struggled hard to tell the +truth, and in doing so had simply proved himself to be an ass. "I +ain't fit to live with anybody else but myself," he said to himself, +as he walked down Bishopsgate Street.</p> + +<p>At this time Mrs. Smiley was not yet there. Bridget had arrived, and +had been seated in a chair at one corner of the fire. Mrs. Moulder +occupied one end of a sofa opposite, leaving the place of honour at +the other end for Mrs. Smiley. Moulder sat immediately in front of +the fire in his own easy chair, and Snengkeld and Kantwise were on +each side of him. They were of course discussing the trial when Mrs. +Smiley was announced; and it was well that she made a diversion by +her arrival, for words were beginning to run high.</p> + +<p>"A jury of her countrymen has found her innocent," Moulder had said +with much heat; "and any one who says she's guilty after that is a +libeller and a coward, to my way of thinking. If a jury of her +countrymen don't make a woman innocent, what does?"</p> + +<p>"Of course she's innocent," said Snengkeld; "from the very moment the +words was spoken by the foreman. If any newspaper was to say she +wasn't she'd have her action."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," said Kantwise, looking up to the ceiling with +his eyes nearly shut. "But you'll see. What'll you bet me, Mr. +Moulder, that Joseph Mason don't get the property?"</p> + +<p>"Gammon!" answered Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Well, it may be gammon; but you'll see."</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" said Mrs. Smiley, sailing into the room; +"upon my word one hears all you say ever so far down the street."</p> + +<p>"And I didn't care if they heard it right away to the Mansion House," +said Moulder. "We ain't talking treason, nor yet highway robbery."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Smiley was welcomed;—her bonnet was taken from her and her +umbrella, and she was encouraged to spread herself out over the sofa. +"Oh, Mrs. Bolster; the witness!" she said, when Mrs. Moulder went +through some little ceremony of introduction. And from the tone of +her voice it appeared that she was not quite satisfied that Mrs. +Bolster should be there as a companion for herself.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. I was the witness as had never signed but once," said +Bridget, getting up and curtsying. Then she sat down again, folding +her hands one over the other on her lap.</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed!" said Mrs. Smiley. "But where's the other witness, Mrs. +Moulder? He's the one who is a deal more interesting to me. Ha, ha, +ha! But as you all know it here, what's the good of not telling the +truth? Ha, ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>"John's here," said Mrs. Moulder. "Come, John, why don't you show +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"He's just alive, and that's about all you can say for him," said +Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's there been to kill him?" said Mrs. Smiley. "Well, John, +I must say you're rather backward in coming forward, considering what +there's been between us. You might have come and taken my shawl, I'm +thinking."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I might," said Kenneby gloomily. "I hope I see you pretty well, +Mrs. Smiley."</p> + +<p>"Pretty bobbish, thank you. Only I think it might have been Maria +between friends like us."</p> + +<p>"He's sadly put about by this trial," whispered Mrs. Moulder. "You +know he is so tender-hearted that he can't bear to be put upon like +another."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't want her to be found guilty; did you, John?"</p> + +<p>"That I'm sure he didn't," said Moulder. "Why it was the way he gave +his evidence that brought her off."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't my wish to bring her off," said Kenneby; "nor was it my +wish to make her guilty. All I wanted was to tell the truth and do my +duty. But it was no use. I believe it never is any use."</p> + +<p>"I think you did very well," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure Lady Mason ought to be very much obliged to you," said +Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Nobody needn't care for what's said to them in a court," said +Snengkeld. "I remember when once they wanted to make out that I'd +taken a parcel of <span class="nowrap">teas—"</span></p> + +<p>"Stolen, you mean, sir," suggested Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"Yes; stolen. But it was only done by the opposite side in court, and +I didn't think a halfporth of it. They knew where the teas was well +enough."</p> + +<p>"Speaking for myself," said Kenneby, "I must say I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"But the paper as we signed," said Bridget, "wasn't the old +gentleman's will,—no more than this is;" and she lifted up her +apron. "I'm rightly sure of that."</p> + +<p>Then again the battle raged hot and furious, and Moulder became angry +with his guest, Bridget Bolster. Kantwise finding himself supported +in his views by the principal witness at the trial took heart against +the tyranny of Moulder and expressed his opinion, while Mrs. Smiley, +with a woman's customary dislike to another woman, sneered +ill-naturedly at the idea of Lady Mason's innocence. Poor Kenneby had +been forced to take the middle seat on the sofa between his bride and +sister; but it did not appear that the honour of his position had any +effect in lessening his gloom or mitigating the severity of the +judgment which had been passed on him.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't the old gentleman's will!" said Moulder, turning on poor +Bridget in his anger with a growl. "But I say it was the old +gentleman's will. You never dared say as much as that in court."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't asked," said Bridget.</p> + +<p>"You weren't asked! Yes, you was asked often enough."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what it is," said Kantwise, "Mrs. Bolster's right in +what she says as sure as your name's Moulder."</p> + +<p>"Then as sure as my name's Moulder she's wrong. I suppose we're to +think that a chap like you knows more about it than the jury! We all +know who your friend is in the matter. I haven't forgot our dinner at +Leeds, nor sha'n't in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Now, John," said Mrs. Smiley, "nobody can know the truth of this so +well as you do. You've been as close as wax, as was all right till +the lady was out of her troubles. That's done and over, and let us +hear among friends how the matter really was." And then there was +silence among them in order that his words might come forth freely.</p> + +<p>"Come, my dear," said Mrs. Smiley with a tone of encouraging love. +"There can't be any harm now; can there?"</p> + +<p>"Out with it, John," said Moulder. "You're honest, anyways."</p> + +<p>"There ain't no gammon about you," said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kenneby can speak if he likes, no doubt," said Kantwise; "though +maybe it mayn't be very pleasant to him to do so after all that's +come and gone."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing that's come and gone that need make our John hold +his tongue," said Mrs. Moulder. "He mayn't be just as bright as some +of those lawyers, but he's a deal more true-hearted."</p> + +<p>"But he can't say as how it was the old gentleman's will as we +signed. I'm well assured of that," said Bridget.</p> + +<p>But Kenneby, though thus called upon by the united strength of the +company to solve all their doubts, still remained silent. "Come, +lovey," said Mrs. Smiley, putting forth her hand and giving his arm a +tender squeeze.</p> + +<p>"If you've anything to say to clear that woman's character," said +Moulder, "you owe it to society to say it; because she is a woman, +and because her enemies is villains." And then again there was +silence while they waited for him.</p> + +<p>"I think it will go with him to his grave," said Mrs. Smiley, very +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder," said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"Then he must give up all idea of taking a wife," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"He won't do that I'm sure," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"That he won't. Will you, John?" said his sister.</p> + +<p>"There's no knowing what may happen to me in this world," said +Kenneby, "but sometimes I almost think I ain't fit to live in it, +along with anybody else."</p> + +<p>"You'll make him fit, won't you, my dear?" said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly know what to say about it," said Mrs. Smiley. "If +Mr. Kenneby ain't willing, I'm not the woman to bind him to his word, +because I've had his promise over and over again, and could prove it +by a number of witnesses before any jury in the land. I'm an +independent woman as needn't be beholden to any man, and I should +never think of damages. Smiley left me comfortable before all the +world, and I don't know but what I'm a fool to think of changing. +Anyways if Mr. <span class="nowrap">Kenneby—"</span></p> + +<p>"Come, John. Why don't you speak to her?" said Mrs. Moulder.</p> + +<p>"And what am I to say?" said Kenneby, thrusting himself forth from +between the ample folds of the two ladies' dresses. "I'm a blighted +man; one on whom the finger of scorn has been pointed. His lordship +said that I was—stupid; and perhaps I am."</p> + +<p>"She don't think nothing of that, John."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"As long as a man can pay twenty shillings in the pound and a trifle +over, what does it matter if all the judges in the land was to call +him stupid?" said Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"Stupid is as stupid does," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"Stupid be d——," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Moulder, there's ladies present," said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"Come, John, rouse yourself a bit," said his sister. "Nobody here +thinks the worse of you for what the judge said."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Mrs. Smiley. "And as it becomes me to speak, +I'll say my mind. I'm accustomed to speak freely before friends, and +as we are all friends here, why should I be ashamed?"</p> + +<p>"For the matter of that nobody says you are," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"And I don't mean, Mr. Moulder. Why should I? I can pay my way, and +do what I like with my own, and has people to mind me when I speak, +and needn't mind nobody else myself;—and that's more than everybody +can say. Here's John Kenneby and I, is engaged as man and wife. He +won't say as it's not so, I'll be bound."</p> + +<p>"No," said Kenneby, "I'm engaged I know."</p> + +<p>"When I accepted John Kenneby's hand and heart,—and well I remember +the beauteous language in which he expressed his feelings, and always +shall,—I told him, that I respected him as a man that would do his +duty by a woman, though perhaps he mightn't be so cute in the way of +having much to say for himself as some others. 'What's the good,' +said I, 'of a man's talking, if so be he's ashamed to meet the baker +at the end of the week?' So I listened to the vows he made me, and +have considered that he and I was as good as one. Now that he's been +put upon by them lawyers, I'm not the woman to turn my back upon +him."</p> + +<p>"That you're not," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"No I ain't, Mr. Moulder, and so, John, there's my hand again, and +you're free to take it if you like." And so saying she put forth her +hand almost into his lap.</p> + +<p>"Take it, John!" said Mrs. Moulder. But poor Kenneby himself did not +seem to be very quick in availing himself of the happiness offered to +him. He did raise his right arm slightly; but then he hesitated, and +allowed it to fall again between him and his sister.</p> + +<p>"Come, John, you know you mean it," said Mrs. Moulder. And then with +both her hands she lifted his, and placed it bodily within the grasp +of Mrs. Smiley's, which was still held forth to receive it.</p> + +<p>"I know I'm engaged," said Kenneby.</p> + +<p>"There's no mistake about it," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"There needn't be none," said Mrs. Smiley, softly blushing; "and I +will say this of myself—as I have been tempted to give a promise, +I'm not the woman to go back from my word. There's my hand, John; and +I don't care though all the world hears me say so." And then they sat +hand in hand for some seconds, during which poor Kenneby was unable +to escape from the grasp of his bride elect. One may say that all +chance of final escape for him was now gone by.</p> + +<p>"But he can't say as how it was the old gentlemen's will as we +signed," said Bridget, breaking the silence which ensued.</p> + +<p>"And now, ladies and gentlemen," said Kantwise, "as Mrs. Bolster has +come back to that matter, I'll tell you something that will surprise +you. My friend Mr. Moulder here, who is as hospitable a gentleman as +I know anywhere wouldn't just let me speak before."</p> + +<p>"That's gammon, Kantwise. I never hindered you from speaking."</p> + +<p>"How I do hate that word. If you knew my aversion, Mr. +<span class="nowrap">Moulder—"</span></p> + +<p>"I can't pick my words for you, old fellow."</p> + +<p>"But what were you going to tell us, Mr. Kantwise?" said Mrs. Smiley.</p> + +<p>"Something that will make all your hairs stand on end, I think." And +then he paused and looked round upon them all. It was at this moment +that Kenneby succeeded in getting his hand once more to himself. +"Something that will surprise you all, or I'm very much mistaken. +Lady Mason has confessed her guilt."</p> + +<p>He had surprised them all. "You don't say so," exclaimed Mrs. +Moulder.</p> + +<p>"Confessed her guilt," said Mrs. Smiley. "But what guilt, Mr. +Kantwise?"</p> + +<p>"She forged the will," said Kantwise.</p> + +<p>"I knew that all along," said Bridget Bolster.</p> + +<p>"I'm d—— if I believe it," said Moulder.</p> + +<p>"You can do as you like about that," said Kantwise; "but she has. And +I'll tell you what's more: she and young Mason have already left +Orley Farm and given it all up into Joseph Mason's hands."</p> + +<p>"But didn't she get a verdict?" asked Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she got a verdict. There's no doubt on earth about that."</p> + +<p>"Then it's my opinion she can't make herself guilty if she wished it; +and as for the property, she can't give it up. The jury has found a +verdict, and nobody can go beyond that. If anybody tries she'll have +her action against 'em." That was the law as laid down by Snengkeld.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe a word of it," said Moulder. "Dockwrath has told +him. I'll bet a hat that Kantwise got it from Dockwrath."</p> + +<p>It turned out that Kantwise had received his information from +Dockwrath; but nevertheless, there was that in his manner, and in the +nature of the story as it was told to them, that did produce belief. +Moulder for a long time held out, but it became clear at last that +even he was shaken; and now, even Kenneby acknowledged his conviction +that the signature to the will was not his own.</p> + +<p>"I know'd very well that I never did it twice," said Bridget Bolster +triumphantly, as she sat down to the supper table.</p> + +<p>I am inclined to think, that upon the whole the company in Great St. +Helen's became more happy as the conviction grew upon them that a +great and mysterious crime had been committed, which had baffled two +courts of law, and had at last thrust itself forth into the open +daylight through the workings of the criminal's conscience. When +Kantwise had completed his story, the time had come in which it +behoved Mrs. Moulder to descend to the lower regions, and give some +aid in preparation of the supper. During her absence the matter was +discussed in every way, and on her return, when she was laden with +good things, she found that all the party was contented except +Moulder and her brother.</p> + +<p>"It's a very terrible thing," said Mrs. Smiley, later in the evening, +as she sat with her steaming glass of rum and water before her. "Very +terrible indeed; ain't it, John? I do wish now I'd gone down and +see'd her, I do indeed. Don't you, Mrs. Moulder?"</p> + +<p>"If all this is true I should like just to have had a peep at her."</p> + +<p>"At any rate we shall have pictures of her in all the papers," said +Mrs. Smiley.</p> + + +<p><a name="c78" id="c78"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXVIII.</h4> +<h3>THE LAST OF THE LAWYERS.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"I should have done my duty by you, Mr. Mason, which those men have +not, and you would at this moment have been the owner of Orley Farm."</p> + +<p>It will easily be known that these words were spoken by Mr. +Dockwrath, and that they were addressed to Joseph Mason. The two men +were seated together in Mr. Mason's lodgings at Alston, late on the +morning after the verdict had been given, and Mr. Dockwrath was +speaking out his mind with sufficient freedom. On the previous +evening he had been content to put up with the misery of the +unsuccessful man, and had not added any reproaches of his own. He +also had been cowed by the verdict, and the two had been wretched and +crestfallen together. But the attorney since that had slept upon the +matter, and had bethought himself that he at any rate would make out +his little bill. He could show that Mr. Mason had ruined their joint +affairs by his adherence to those London attorneys. Had Mr. Mason +listened to the advice of his new adviser all would have been well. +So at least Dockwrath was prepared to declare, finding that by so +doing he would best pave the way for his own important claim.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Mason was not a man to be bullied with tame endurance. "The +firm bears the highest name in the profession, sir," he said; "and I +had just grounds for trusting them."</p> + +<p>"And what has come of your just grounds, Mr. Mason? Where are you? +That's the question. I say that Round and Crook have thrown you over. +They have been hand and glove with old Furnival through the whole +transaction; and I'll tell you what's more, Mr. Mason. I told you how +it would be from the beginning."</p> + +<p>"I'll move for a new trial."</p> + +<p>"A new trial; and this a criminal prosecution! She's free of you now +for ever, and Orley Farm will belong to that son of hers till he +chooses to sell it. It's a pity; that's all. I did my duty by you in +a professional way, Mr. Mason; and you won't put the loss on my +shoulders."</p> + +<p>"I've been robbed;—damnably robbed, that's all that I know."</p> + +<p>"There's no mistake on earth about that, Mr. Mason; you have been +robbed; and the worst of it is, the costs will be so heavy! You'll be +going down to Yorkshire soon I suppose, sir."</p> + +<p>"I don't know where I shall go!" said the squire of Groby, not +content to be cross-questioned by the attorney from Hamworth.</p> + +<p>"Because it's as well, I suppose, that we should settle something +about the costs before you leave. I don't want to press for my money +exactly now, but I shall be glad to know when I'm to get it."</p> + +<p>"If you have any claim on me, Mr. Dockwrath, you can send it to Mr. +Round."</p> + +<p>"If I have any claim! What do you mean by that, sir? And I shall send +nothing in to Mr. Round. I have had quite enough of Mr. Round +already. I told you from the beginning, Mr. Mason, that I would have +nothing to do with this affair as connected with Mr. Round. I have +devoted myself entirely to this matter since you were pleased to +engage my services at Groby Park. It is not by my fault that you have +failed. I think, Mr. Mason, you will do me the justice to acknowledge +that." And then Dockwrath was silent for a moment, as though waiting +for an answer.</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to say upon the subject, Mr. Dockwrath," said Mason.</p> + +<p>"But, by heaven, something must be said. That won't do at all, Mr. +Mason. I presume you do not think that I have been working like a +slave for the last four months for nothing."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason was in truth an honest man, and did not wish that any one +should work on his account for nothing;—much less did he wish that +such a one as Dockwrath should do so. But then, on the other side, in +his present frame of mind he was by no means willing to yield +anything to any one. "I neither deny nor allow your claim, Mr. +Dockwrath," said he. "But I shall pay nothing except through my +regular lawyers. You can send your account to me if you please, but I +shall send it on to Mr. Round without looking at it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's to be the way, is it? That's your gratitude. Very well, +Mr. Mason; I shall now know what to do. And I think you'll +<span class="nowrap">find—"</span></p> + +<p>Here Mr. Dockwrath was interrupted by the lodging-house servant, who +brought in a note for Mr. Mason. It was from Mr. Furnival, and the +girl who delivered it said that the gentleman's messenger was waiting +for an answer.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smallcaps">Sir</span>," said the note,<br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p>A communication has been made to me this morning on the part of your +brother, Mr. Lucius Mason, which may make it desirable that I should +have an interview with you. If not inconvenient to you, I would ask +you to meet me to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock at the chambers of +your own lawyer, Mr. Round, in Bedford Row. I have already seen Mr. +Round, and find that he can meet us.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="ind10">I am, sir,</span><br /> +<span class="ind12">Your very obedient servant,</span></p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Thomas Furnival</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">J. Mason, Esq., J.P.<br /> +<span class="ind2">(of Groby Park).</span><br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Mr. Furnival when he wrote this note had already been over to Orley +Farm, and had seen Lucius Mason. He had been at the farm almost +before daylight, and had come away with the assured conviction that +the property must be abandoned by his client.</p> + +<p>"We need not talk about it, Mr. Furnival," Lucius had said. "It must +be so."</p> + +<p>"You have discussed the matter with your mother?"</p> + +<p>"No discussion is necessary, but she is quite aware of my intention. +She is prepared to leave the place—for ever."</p> + +<p>"But the income—"</p> + +<p>"Belongs to my brother Joseph. Mr. Furnival, I think you may +understand that the matter is one in which it is necessary that I +should act, but as to which I trust I may not have to say many words. +If you cannot arrange this for me, I must go to Mr. Round."</p> + +<p>Of course Mr. Furnival did understand it all. His client had been +acquitted, and he had triumphed; but he had known for many a long day +that the estate did belong of right to Mr. Mason of Groby; and though +he had not suspected that Lucius would have been so told, he could +not be surprised at the result of such telling. It was clear to him +that Lady Mason had confessed, and that restitution would therefore +be made.</p> + +<p>"I will do your bidding," said he.</p> + +<p>"And, Mr. Furnival,—if it be possible, spare my mother." Then the +meeting was over, and Mr. Furnival returning to Hamworth wrote his +note to Mr. Joseph Mason.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dockwrath had been interrupted by the messenger in the middle of +his threat, but he caught the name of Furnival as the note was +delivered. Then he watched Mr. Mason as he read it and read it again.</p> + +<p>"If you please, sir, I was to wait for an answer," said the girl.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason did not know what answer it would behove him to give. He +felt that he was among Philistines while dealing with all these +lawyers, and yet he was at a loss in what way to reply to one without +leaning upon another. "Look at that," he said, sulkily handing the +note to Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"You must see Mr. Furnival, by all means," said Dockwrath. +<span class="nowrap">"But—"</span></p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"In your place I should not see him in the presence of Mr. +Round,—unless I was attended by an adviser on whom I could rely." +Mr. Mason, having given a few moments' consideration to the matter, +sat himself down and wrote a line to Mr. Furnival, saying that he +would be in Bedford Row at the appointed time.</p> + +<p>"I think you are quite right," said Dockwrath.</p> + +<p>"But I shall go alone," said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well; you will of course judge for yourself. I cannot say +what may be the nature of the communication to be made; but if it be +anything touching the property, you will no doubt jeopardise your own +interests by your imprudence."</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Mr. Dockwrath," said Mr. Mason.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well. Good morning, sir. You shall hear from me very +shortly, Mr. Mason; and I must say that, considering everything, I do +not know that I ever came across a gentleman who behaved himself +worse in a peculiar position than you have done in yours." And so +they parted.</p> + +<p>Punctually at eleven o'clock on the following day Mr. Mason was in +Bedford Row. "Mr. Furnival is with Mr. Round," said the clerk, "and +will see you in two minutes." Then he was shown into the dingy office +waiting-room, where he sat with his hat in his hand, for rather more +than two minutes.</p> + +<p>At that moment Mr. Round was describing to Mr. Furnival the manner in +which he had been visited some weeks since by Sir Peregrine Orme. "Of +course, Mr. Furnival, I knew which way the wind blew when I heard +that."</p> + +<p>"She must have told him everything."</p> + +<p>"No doubt, no doubt. At any rate he knew it all."</p> + +<p>"And what did you say to him?"</p> + +<p>"I promised to hold my tongue;—and I kept my promise. Mat knows +nothing about it to this day."</p> + +<p>The whole history thus became gradually clear to Mr. Furnival's mind, +and he could understand in what manner that marriage had been +avoided. Mr. Round also understood it, and the two lawyers confessed +together, that though the woman had deserved the punishment which had +come upon her, her character was one which might have graced a better +destiny. "And now, I suppose, my fortunate client may come in," said +Mr. Round. Whereupon the fortunate client was released from his +captivity, and brought into the sitting-room of the senior partner.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason, Mr. Furnival," said the attorney, as soon as he had +shaken hands with his client. "You know each other very well by name, +gentlemen."</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason was very stiff in his bearing and demeanour, but remarked +that he had heard of Mr. Furnival before.</p> + +<p>"All the world has heard of him," said Mr. Round. "He hasn't hid his +light under a bushel." Whereupon Mr. Mason bowed, not quite +understanding what was said to him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason," began the barrister, "I have a communication to make to +you, very singular in its nature, and of great importance. It is one +which I believe you will regard as being of considerable importance +to yourself, and which is of still higher moment to my—my friend, +Lady Mason."</p> + +<p>"Lady Mason, sir—" began the other; but Mr. Furnival stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to interrupt you, Mr. Mason. I think it will be better that +you should hear me before you commit yourself to any expression as to +your relative."</p> + +<p>"She is no relative of mine."</p> + +<p>"But her son is. However,—if you will allow me, I will go on. Having +this communication to make, I thought it expedient for your own sake +that it should be done in the presence of your own legal adviser and +friend."</p> + +<p>"Umph!" grunted the disappointed litigant.</p> + +<p>"I have already explained to Mr. Round that which I am about to +explain to you, and he was good enough to express himself as +satisfied with the step which I am taking."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, Mr. Mason. Mr. Furnival is behaving, and I believe has +behaved throughout, in a manner becoming the very high position which +he holds in his profession."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he has done his best on his side," said Mason.</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly I have,—as I should have done on yours, had it so +chanced that I had been honoured by holding a brief from your +attorneys. But the communication which I am going to make now I make +not as a lawyer but as a friend. Mr. Mason, my client Lady Mason, and +her son Lucius Mason, are prepared to make over to you the full +possession of the estate which they have held under the name of Orley +Farm."</p> + +<p>The tidings, as so given, were far from conveying to the sense of the +hearer the full information which they bore. He heard the words, and +at the moment conceived that Orley Farm was intended to come into his +hands by some process to which it was thought desirable that he +should be brought to agree. He was to be induced to buy it, or to be +bought over from further opposition by some concession of an +indefinitely future title. But that the estate was to become his at +once, without purchase, and by the mere free will of his hated +relatives, was an idea that he did not realise.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Furnival," he said, "what future steps I shall take I do not yet +know. That I have been robbed of my property I am as firmly convinced +now as ever. But I tell you fairly, and I tell Mr. Round so too, that +I will have no dealings with that woman."</p> + +<p>"Your father's widow, sir," said Mr. Furnival, "is an unhappy lady, +who is now doing her best to atone for the only fault of which I +believe her to have been guilty. If you were not unreasonable as well +as angry, you would understand that the proposition which I am now +making to you is one which should force you to forgive any injury +which she may hitherto have done to you. Your half-brother Lucius +Mason has instructed me to make over to you the possession of Orley +Farm." These last words Mr. Furnival uttered very slowly, fixing his +keen grey eyes full upon the face of Joseph Mason as he did so, and +then turning round to the attorney he said, "I presume your client +will understand me now."</p> + +<p>"The estate is yours, Mr. Mason," said Round. "You have nothing to do +but to take possession of it."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said Mason, turning round upon Furnival.</p> + +<p>"Exactly what I say. Your half-brother Lucius surrenders to you the +estate."</p> + +<p>"Without payment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; without payment. On his doing so you will of course absolve him +from all liability on account of the proceeds of the property while +in his hands."</p> + +<p>"That will be a matter of course," said Mr. Round.</p> + +<p>"Then she has robbed me," said Mason, jumping up to his feet. "By +<span class="nowrap">——,</span> +the will was forged after all."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason," said Mr. Round, "if you have a spark of generosity in +you, you will accept the offer made to you without asking any +question. By no such questioning can you do yourself any good,—nor +can you do that poor lady any harm."</p> + +<p>"I knew it was so," he said loudly, and as he spoke he twice walked +the length of the room. "I knew it was so;—twenty years ago I said +the same. She forged the will. I ask you, as my lawyer, Mr. +Round,—did she not forge the will herself?"</p> + +<p>"I shall answer no such question, Mr. Mason."</p> + +<p>"Then by heavens I'll expose you. If I spend the whole value of the +estate in doing it I'll expose you, and have her punished yet. The +slippery villain! For twenty years she has robbed me."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason, you are forgetting yourself in your passion," said Mr. +Furnival. "What you have to look for now is the recovery of the +property." But here Mr. Furnival showed that he had not made himself +master of Joseph Mason's character.</p> + +<p>"No," shouted the angry man;—"no, by heaven. What I have first to +look to is her punishment, and that of those who have assisted her. I +knew she had done it,—and Dockwrath knew it. Had I trusted him, she +would now have been in gaol."</p> + +<p>Mr. Furnival and Mr. Round were both desirous of having the matter +quietly arranged, and with this view were willing to put up with +much. The man had been ill used. When he declared for the fortieth +time that he had been robbed for twenty years, they could not deny +it. When with horrid oaths he swore that that will had been a +forgery, they could not contradict him. When he reviled the laws of +his country, which had done so much to facilitate the escape of a +criminal, they had no arguments to prove that he was wrong. They bore +with him in his rage, hoping that a sense of his own self-interest +might induce him to listen to reason. But it was all in vain. The +property was sweet, but that sweetness was tasteless when compared to +the sweetness of revenge.</p> + +<p>"Nothing shall make me tamper with justice;—nothing," said he.</p> + +<p>"But even if it were as you say, you cannot do anything to her," said +Round.</p> + +<p>"I'll try," said Mason. "You have been my attorney, and what you know +in the matter you are bound to tell. And I'll make you tell, sir."</p> + +<p>"Upon my word," said Round, "this is beyond bearing. Mr. Mason, I +must trouble you to walk out of my office." And then he rang the +bell. "Tell Mr. Mat I want to see him." But before that younger +partner had joined his father Joseph Mason had gone. "Mat," said the +old man, "I don't interfere with you in many things, but on this I +must insist. As long as my name is in the firm Mr. Joseph Mason of +Groby shall not be among our customers."</p> + +<p>"The man's a fool," said Mr. Furnival. "The end of all that will be +that two years will go by before he gets his property; and, in the +meantime, the house and all about it will go to ruin."</p> + +<p>In these days there was a delightful family concord between Mr. +Furnival and his wife, and perhaps we may be allowed to hope that the +peace was permanent. Martha Biggs had not been in Harley Street since +we last saw her there, and was now walking round Red Lion Square by +the hour with some kindred spirit, complaining bitterly of the return +which had been made for her friendship. "What I endured, and what I +was prepared to endure for that woman, no breathing creature can ever +know," said Martha Biggs, to that other Martha; "and +<span class="nowrap">now—"</span></p> + +<p>"I suppose the fact is he don't like to see you there," said the +other.</p> + +<p>"And is that a reason?" said our Martha. "Had I been in her place I +would not have put my foot in his house again till I was assured that +my friend should be as welcome there as myself. But then, perhaps, my +ideas of friendship may be called romantic."</p> + +<p>But though there were heart-burnings and war in Red Lion Square, +there was sweet peace in Harley Street. Mrs. Furnival had learned +that beyond all doubt Lady Mason was an unfortunate woman on whose +behalf her husband was using his best energies as a lawyer; and +though rumours had begun to reach her that were very injurious to the +lady's character, she did not on that account feel animosity against +her. Had Lady Mason been guilty of all the sins in the calendar +except one, Mrs. Furnival could find it within her heart to forgive +her.</p> + +<p>But Sophia was now more interested about Lady Mason than was her +mother, and during those days of the trial was much more eager to +learn the news as it became known. She had said nothing to her mother +about Lucius, nor had she said anything as to Augustus Staveley. Miss +Furnival was a lady who on such subjects did not want the assistance +of a mother's counsel. Then, early on the morning that followed the +trial, they heard the verdict and knew that Lady Mason was free.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad," said Mrs. Furnival; "and I am sure it was your papa's +doing."</p> + +<p>"But we will hope that she was really innocent," said Sophia.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; of course; and so I suppose she was. I am sure I hope so. +But, nevertheless, we all know that it was going very much against +her."</p> + +<p>"I believe papa never thought she was guilty for a moment."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, my dear; your papa never talks of the clients for whom +he is engaged. But what a thing it is for Lucius! He would have lost +every acre of the property."</p> + +<p>"Yes; it's a great thing for him, certainly." And then she began to +consider whether the standing held by Lucius Mason in the world was +not even yet somewhat precarious.</p> + +<p>It was on the same day—in the evening—that she received her lover's +letter. She was alone when she read it, and she made herself quite +master of its contents before she sat herself to think in what way it +would be expedient that she should act. "I am bound to relinquish to +my brother-in-law my title to Orley Farm." Why should he be so bound, +<span class="nowrap">unless—?</span> And then +she also came to that conclusion which Mr. Round +had reached, and which Joseph Mason had reached, when they heard that +the property was to be given up. "Yes, Sophia, I am a beggar," the +letter went on to say. She was very sorry, deeply sorry;—so, at +least, she said to herself. As she sat there alone, she took out her +handkerchief and pressed it to her eyes. Then, having restored it to +her pocket, after moderate use, she refolded her letter, and put that +into the same receptacle.</p> + +<p>"Papa," said she, that evening, "what will Mr. Lucius Mason do now? +will he remain at Orley Farm?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear. He will leave Orley Farm, and, I think, will go abroad +with his mother."</p> + +<p>"And who will have Orley Farm?"</p> + +<p>"His brother Joseph, I believe."</p> + +<p>"And what will Lucius have?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say. I do not know that he will have anything. His mother +has an income of her own, and he, I suppose, will go into some +profession."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed. Is not that very sad for him, poor fellow?" In answer to +which her father made no remark.</p> + +<p>That night, in her own room, she answered her lover's letter, and her +answer was as <span class="nowrap">follows:—</span><br /> </p> + + +<blockquote> +<p class="jright">Harley Street, March, 18—.</p> + +<p class="noindent"><span class="smallcaps">My dear +Mr. Mason</span>,</p> + +<p>I need hardly tell you that I was grieved to the heart by +the tidings conveyed in your letter. I will not ask you +for that secret which you withhold from me, feeling that I +have no title to inquire into it; nor will I attempt to +guess at the cause which induces you to give up to your +brother the property which you were always taught to +regard as your own. That you are actuated by noble motives +I am sure; and you may be sure of this, that I shall +respect you quite as highly in your adversity as I have +ever done in your prosperity. That you will make your way +in the world, I shall never doubt; and it may be that the +labour which you will now encounter will raise you to +higher standing than any you could have achieved, had the +property remained in your possession.</p> + +<p>I think you are right in saying, with reference to our +mutual regard for each other, that neither should be held +as having any claim upon the other. Under present +circumstances, any such claim would be very silly. Nothing +would hamper you in your future career so much as a long +marriage engagement; and for myself, I am aware that the +sorrow and solicitude thence arising would be more than I +could support. Apart from this, also, I feel certain that +I should never obtain my father's sanction for such an +engagement, nor could I make it, unless he sanctioned it. +I feel so satisfied that you will see the truth of this, +that I need not trouble you, and harass my own heart by +pursuing the subject any further.</p> + +<p>My feelings of friendship for you—of affectionate +friendship—will be as true as ever. I shall look to your +future career with great hope, and shall hear of your +success with the utmost satisfaction. And I trust that the +time may come, at no very distant date, when we may all +welcome your return to London, and show you that our +regard for you has never been diminished.</p> + +<p>May God bless and preserve you in the trials which are +before you, and carry you through them with honour and +safety. Wherever you may be I shall watch for tidings of +you with anxiety, and always hear them with gratification. +I need hardly bid you remember that you have no more +affectionate friend</p> + +<p class="ind10">Than yours always most sincerely,</p> + +<p class="ind15"><span class="smallcaps">Sophia Furnival</span>.</p> + +<p class="noindent">P.S.—I believe that a +meeting between us at the present +moment would only cause pain to both of us. It might drive +you to speak of things which should be wrapped in silence. +At any rate, I am sure that you will not press it on +me.<br /> </p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>Lucius, when he received this letter, was living with his mother in +lodgings near Finsbury Circus, and the letter had been redirected +from Hamworth to a post-office in that neighbourhood. It was his +intention to take his mother with him to a small town on one of the +rivers that feed the Rhine, and there remain hidden till he could +find some means by which he might earn his bread. He was sitting with +her in the evening, with two dull tallow candles on the table between +them, when his messenger brought the letter to him. He read it in +silence very deliberately, then crushed it in his hand, and threw it +from him with violence into the fire.</p> + +<p>"I hope there is nothing further to distress you, Lucius," said his +mother, looking up into his face as though she were imploring his +confidence.</p> + +<p>"No, nothing; nothing that matters. It is an affair quite private to +myself."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had spoken with great truth when he declared that +Lucius Mason was able to bear adversity. This last blow had now come +upon him, but he made no wailings as to his misery, nor did he say a +word further on the subject. His mother watched the paper as the +flame caught it and reduced it to an ash; but she asked no further +question. She knew that her position with him did not permit of her +asking, or even hoping, for his confidence.</p> + +<p>"I had no right to expect it would be otherwise," he said to himself. +But even to himself he spoke no word of reproach against Miss +Furnival. He had realised the circumstances by which he was +surrounded, and had made up his mind to bear their result.</p> + +<p>As for Miss Furnival, we may as well declare here that she did not +become Mrs. Staveley. Our old friend Augustus conceived that he had +received a sufficient answer on the occasion of his last visit to +Harley Street, and did not repeat it immediately. Such little scenes +as that which took place there had not been uncommon in his life; and +when in after months he looked back upon the affair, he counted it up +as one of those miraculous escapes which had marked his career.</p> + + +<p><a name="c79" id="c79"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXIX.</h4> +<h3>FAREWELL.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>"That letter you got this morning, my dear, was it not from Lady +Mason?"</p> + +<p>"It was from Lady Mason, father; they go on Thursday."</p> + +<p>"On Thursday; so soon as that." And then Sir Peregrine, who had asked +the question, remained silent for a while. The letter, according to +the family custom, had been handed to Mrs. Orme over the +breakfast-table; but he had made no remark respecting it till they +were alone together and free from the servants. It had been a +farewell letter, full of love and gratitude, and full also of +repentance. Lady Mason had now been for three weeks in London, and +once during that time Mrs. Orme had gone up to visit her. She had +then remained with her friend for hours, greatly to Lady Mason's +comfort, and now this letter had come, bringing a last adieu.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill79a" id="ill79a"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill79a.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill79a-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Farewell!" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Farewell!<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill79a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>"You may read it, sir, if you like," said Mrs. Orme, handing him the +letter. It was evident, by his face, that he was gratified by the +privilege; and he read it, not once only, but over and over again. As +he did so, he placed himself in the shade, and sat with his back to +Mrs. Orme; but nevertheless she could see that from time to time he +rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and gradually raised his +handkerchief to his face.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dearest," he said, as he gave the letter back to her.</p> + +<p>"I think that we may forgive her now, even all that she has done," +said Mrs. Orme.</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes—yes," he answered. "For myself, I forgave her from the +first."</p> + +<p>"I know you did. But as regards the property,—it has been given up +now." And then again they were silent.</p> + +<p>"Edith," he said, after a while, "I have forgiven her altogether. To +me she is the same as though she had never done that deed. Are we not +all sinners?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, father."</p> + +<p>"And can I say because she did one startling thing that the total of +her sin is greater than mine? Was I ever tempted as she was tempted? +Was my youth made dangerous for me as was hers? And then she did +nothing for herself; she did it all for another. We may think of that +now."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of it always."</p> + +<p>"It did not make the sin the less; but among her fellow-mortals—" +And then he stopped himself, wanting words to express his meaning. +The sin, till it was repented, was damning; but now that it was +repented, he could almost love the sinner for the sin.</p> + +<p>"Edith," he said, again. And he looked at her so wishfully! She knew +well what was the working of his heart, and she knew also that she +did not dare to encourage him.</p> + +<p>"I trust," said Mrs. Orme, "that she will bear her present lot for a +few years; and then, <span class="nowrap">perhaps—"</span></p> + +<p>"Ah! then I shall be in my grave. A few months will do that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Why should I not save her from such a life as that?"</p> + +<p>"From that which she had most to fear she has been saved."</p> + +<p>"Had she not so chosen it herself, she could now have demanded from +me a home. Why should I not give it to her now?"</p> + +<p>"A home here, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes;—why not? But I know what you would say. It would be wrong,—to +you and Perry."</p> + +<p>"It would be wrong to yourself, sir. Think of it, father. It is the +fact that she did that thing. We may forgive her, but others will not +do so on that account. It would not be right that you should bring +her here."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine knew that it would not be right. Though he was old, and +weak in body, and infirm in purpose, his judgment had not altogether +left him. He was well aware that he would offend all social laws if +he were to do that which he contemplated, and ask the world around +him to respect as Lady Orme—as his wife, the woman who had so deeply +disgraced herself. But yet he could hardly bring himself to confess +that it was impossible. He was as a child who knows that a coveted +treasure is beyond his reach, but still covets it, still longs for +it, hoping against hope that it may yet be his own. It seemed to him +that he might yet regain his old vitality if he could wind his arm +once more about her waist, and press her to his side, and call her +his own. It would be so sweet to forgive her; to make her sure that +she was absolutely forgiven; to teach her that there was one at least +who would not bring up against her her past sin, even in his memory. +As for his grandson, the property should be abandoned to him +altogether. 'Twas thus he argued with himself; but yet, as he argued, +he knew that it could not be so.</p> + +<p>"I was harsh to her when she told me," he said, after another +pause—"cruelly harsh."</p> + +<p>"She does not think so."</p> + +<p>"No. If I had spurned her from me with my foot, she would not have +thought so. She had condemned herself, and therefore I should have +spared her."</p> + +<p>"But you did spare her. I am sure she feels that from the first to +the last your conduct to her has been more than kind."</p> + +<p>"And I owed her more than kindness, for I loved her;—yes, I loved +her, and I do love her. Though I am a feeble old man, tottering to my +grave, yet I love her—love her as that boy loves the fair girl for +whom he longs. He will overcome it, and forget it, and some other one +as fair will take her place. But for me it is all over."</p> + +<p>What could she say to him? In truth, it was all over,—such love at +least as that of which his old heart was dreaming in its dotage. +There is no Medea's caldron from which our limbs can come out young +and fresh; and it were well that the heart should grow old as does +the body.</p> + +<p>"It is not all over while we are with you," she said, caressing him. +But she knew that what she said was a subterfuge.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; I have you, dearest," he answered. But he also knew that +that pretence at comfort was false and hollow.</p> + +<p>"And she starts on Thursday," he said; "on next Thursday."</p> + +<p>"Yes, on Thursday. It will be much better for her to be away from +London. While she is there she never ventures even into the street."</p> + +<p>"Edith, I shall see her before she goes."</p> + +<p>"Will that be wise, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. It may be foolish,—very foolish; but still I shall see +her. I think you forget, Edith, that I have never yet bidden her +farewell. I have not spoken to her since that day when she behaved so +generously."</p> + +<p>"I do not think that she expects it, father."</p> + +<p>"No; she expects nothing for herself. Had it been in her nature to +expect such a visit, I should not have been anxious to make it. I +will go to-morrow. She is always at home you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is always at home."</p> + +<p>"And, Lucius—"</p> + +<p>"You will not find him there in the daytime."</p> + +<p>"I shall go to-morrow, dear. You need not tell Peregrine."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme still thought that he was wrong, but she had nothing +further to say. She could not hinder his going, and therefore, with +his permission she wrote a line to Lady Mason, telling her of his +purpose. And then, with all the care in her power, and with infinite +softness of manner, she warned him against the danger which she so +much feared. What might be the result, if, overcome by tenderness, he +should again ask Lady Mason to become his wife? Mrs. Orme firmly +believed that Lady Mason would again refuse; but, nevertheless, there +would be danger.</p> + +<p>"No," said he, "I will not do that. When I have said so you may +accept my word." Then she hastened to apologise to him, but he +assured her with a kiss that he was in nowise angry with her.</p> + +<p>He held by his purpose, and on the following day he went up to +London. There was nothing said on the matter at breakfast, nor did +she make any further endeavour to dissuade him. He was infirm, but +still she knew that the actual fatigue would not be of a nature to +injure him. Indeed her fear respecting him was rather in regard to +his staying at home than to his going abroad. It would have been well +for him could he have been induced to think himself fit for more +active movement.</p> + +<p>Lady Mason was alone when he reached the dingy little room near +Finsbury Circus, and received him standing. She was the first to +speak, and this she did before she had even touched his hand. She +stood to meet him, with her eyes turned to the ground, and her hands +tightly folded together before her. "Sir Peregrine," she said, "I did +not expect from you this mark of your—kindness."</p> + +<p>"Of my esteem and affection, Lady Mason," he said. "We have known +each other too well to allow of our parting without a word. I am an +old man, and it will probably be for ever."</p> + +<p>Then she gave him her hand, and gradually lifted her eyes to his +face. "Yes," she said; "it will be for ever. There will be no coming +back for me."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; we will not say that. That's as may be hereafter. But it +will not be at once. It had better not be quite at once. Edith tells +me that you go on Thursday."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; we go on Thursday."</p> + +<p>She had still allowed her hand to remain in his, but now she withdrew +it, and asked him to sit down. "Lucius is not here," she said. "He +never remains at home after breakfast. He has much to settle as to +our journey; and then he has his lawyers to see."</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had not at all wished to see Lucius Mason, but he did +not say so. "You will give him my regards," he said, "and tell him +that I trust that he may prosper."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I will do so. It is very kind of you to think of him."</p> + +<p>"I have always thought highly of him as an excellent young man."</p> + +<p>"And he is excellent. Where is there any one who could suffer without +a word as he suffers? No complaint ever comes from him; and yet—I +have ruined him."</p> + +<p>"No, no. He has his youth, his intellect, and his education. If such +a one as he cannot earn his bread in the world—ay, and more than his +bread—who can do so? Nothing ruins a young man but ignorance, +idleness, and depravity."</p> + +<p>"Nothing;—unless those of whom he should be proud disgrace him +before the eyes of the world. Sir Peregrine, I sometimes wonder at my +own calmness. I wonder that I can live. But, believe me, that never +for a moment do I forget what I have done. I would have poured out +for him my blood like water, if it would have served him; but instead +of that I have given him cause to curse me till the day of his death. +Though I still live, and eat, and sleep, I think of that always. The +remembrance is never away from me. They bid those who repent put on +sackcloth, and cover themselves with ashes. That is my sackcloth, and +it is very sore. Those thoughts are ashes to me, and they are very +bitter between my teeth."</p> + +<p>He did not know with what words to comfort her. It all was as she +said, and he could not bid her even try to free herself from that +sackcloth and from those ashes. It must be so. Were it not so with +her, she would not have been in any degree worthy of that love which +he felt for her. "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "for the shorn lamb—" And then she was silent +again. But could that bitter, biting wind be tempered for the +she-wolf who, in the dead of night, had broken into the fold, and +with prowling steps and cunning clutch had stolen the fodder from the +sheep? That was the question as it presented itself to her; but she +sat silent, and refrained from putting it into words. She sat silent, +but he read her heart. "For the shorn +<span class="nowrap">lamb—"</span> she had said, and he +had known her thoughts, as they followed, quick, one upon another, +through her mind. "Mary," he said, seating himself now close beside +her on the sofa, "if his heart be as true to you as mine, he will +never remember these things against you."</p> + +<p>"It is my memory, not his, that is my punishment," she said.</p> + +<p>Why could he not take her home with him, and comfort her, and heal +that festering wound, and stop that ever-running gush of her heart's +blood? But he could not. He had pledged his word and pawned his +honour. All the comfort that could be his to bestow must be given in +those few minutes that remained to him in that room. And it must be +given, too, without falsehood. He could not bring himself to tell her +that the sackcloth need not be sore to her poor lacerated body, nor +the ashes bitter between her teeth. He could not tell her that the +cup of which it was hers to drink might yet be pleasant to the taste, +and cool to the lips! What could he tell her? Of the only source of +true comfort others, he knew, had spoken,—others who had not spoken +in vain. He could not now take up that matter, and press it on her +with available strength. For him there was but one thing to say. He +had forgiven her; he still loved her; he would have cherished her in +his bosom had it been possible. He was a weak, old, foolish man; and +there was nothing of which he could speak but of his own heart.</p> + +<p>"Mary," he said, again taking her hand, "I wish—I wish that I could +comfort you."</p> + +<p>"And yet on you also have I brought trouble, and misery—and—all but +disgrace!"</p> + +<p>"No, my love, no; neither misery nor disgrace,—except this misery, +that I shall be no longer near to you. Yes, I will tell you all now. +Were I alone in the world, I would still beg you to go back with me."</p> + +<p>"It cannot be; it could not possibly be so."</p> + +<p>"No; for I am not alone. She who loves you so well, has told me so. +It must not be. But that is the source of my misery. I have learned +to love you too well, and do not know how to part with you. If this +had not been so, I would have done all that an old man might to +comfort you."</p> + +<p>"But it has been so," she said. "I cannot wash out the past. Knowing +what I did of myself, Sir Peregrine, I should never have put my foot +over your threshold."</p> + +<p>"I wish I might hear its step again upon my floors. I wish I might +hear that light step once again."</p> + +<p>"Never, Sir Peregrine. No one again ever shall rejoice to hear either +my step or my voice, or to see my form, or to grasp my hand. The +world is over for me, and may God soon grant me relief from my +sorrow. But to you—in return for your +<span class="nowrap">goodness—"</span></p> + +<p>"For my love."</p> + +<p>"In return for your love, what am I to say? I could have loved you +with all my heart had it been so permitted. Nay, I did do so. Had +that dream been carried out, I should not have sworn falsely when I +gave you my hand. I bade her tell you so from me, when I parted with +her."</p> + +<p>"She did tell me."</p> + +<p>"I have known but little love. He—Sir Joseph—was my master rather +than my husband. He was a good master, and I served him truly—except +in that one thing. But I never loved him. But I am wrong to talk of +this, and I will not talk of it longer. May God bless you, Sir +Peregrine! It will be well for both of us now that you should leave +me."</p> + +<p>"May God bless you, Mary, and preserve you, and give back to you the +comforts of a quiet spirit, and a heart at rest! Till you hear that I +am under the ground you will know that there is one living who loves +you well." Then he took her in his arms, twice kissed her on the +forehead, and left the room without further speech on either side.</p> + + +<div class="center"><a name="ill79b" id="ill79b"></a> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4px"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/ill79b.jpg"> + <img src="images/ill79b-t.jpg" height="500" + alt="Farewell!" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Farewell!<br /> + Click to <a href="images/ill79b.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>Lady Mason, as soon as she was alone, sat herself down, and her +thoughts ran back over the whole course of her life. Early in her +days, when the world was yet beginning to her, she had done one evil +deed, and from that time up to those days of her trial she had been +the victim of one incessant struggle to appear before the world as +though that deed had not been done,—to appear innocent of it before +the world, but, beyond all things, innocent of it before her son. For +twenty years she had striven with a labour that had been all but +unendurable; and now she had failed, and every one knew her for what +she was. Such had been her life; and then she thought of the life +which might have been hers. In her earlier days she had known what it +was to be poor, and had seen and heard those battles after money +which harden our hearts, and quench the poetry of our natures. But it +had not been altogether so with her. Had things gone differently with +her it might afterwards have been said that she had gone through the +fire unscathed. But the beast had set his foot upon her, and when the +temptation came it was too much for her. Not for herself would she +have sinned, or have robbed that old man, who had been to her a kind +master. But when a child was born to her, her eyes were blind, and +she could not see that wealth ill gotten for her child would be as +sure a curse as wealth ill gotten for herself. She remembered +Rebekah, and with the cunning of a second Rebekah she filched a +world's blessing for her baby. Now she thought of all this as +pictures of that life which might have been hers passed before her +mind's eye.</p> + +<p>And they were pleasant pictures, had they not burnt into her very +soul as she looked at them. How sweet had been that drawing-room at +The Cleeve, as she sat there in luxurious quiet with her new friend! +How sweet had been that friendship with a woman pure in all her +thoughts, graceful to the eye, and delicate in all her ways! She knew +now, as she thought of this, that to her had been given the power to +appreciate such delights as these. How full of charm to her would +have been that life, in which there had been so much of true, +innocent affection;—had the load ever been absent from her +shoulders! And then she thought of Sir Peregrine, with his pleasant, +ancient manner and truth of heart, and told herself that she could +have been happy with the love of even so old a man as that,—had that +burden been away from her! But the burden had never been away—never +could be away. Then she thought once more of her stern but just son, +and as she bowed her head and kissed the rod, she prayed that her +release might come to her soon.</p> + +<p>And now we will say farewell to her, and as we do so the chief +interest of our tale will end. I may, perhaps be thought to owe an +apology to my readers in that I have asked their sympathy for a woman +who had so sinned as to have placed her beyond the general sympathy +of the world at large. If so, I tender my apology, and perhaps feel +that I should confess a fault. But as I have told her story that +sympathy has grown upon myself till I have learned to forgive her, +and to feel that I too could have regarded her as a friend. Of her +future life I will not venture to say anything. But no lesson is +truer than that which teaches us to believe that God does temper the +wind to the shorn lamb. To how many has it not seemed, at some one +period of their lives, that all was over for them, and that to them +in their afflictions there was nothing left but to die! And yet they +have lived to laugh again, to feel that the air was warm and the +earth fair, and that God in giving them ever-springing hope had given +everything. How many a sun may seem to set on an endless night, and +yet rising again on some +<span class="nowrap">morrow—</span><br /> </p> + + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="3"><tr><td> +<p class="noindent">"He tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore<br /> + Flames in the forehead of the morning sky!"<br /> </p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + +<p>For Lady Mason let us hope that the day will come in which she also +may once again trick her beams in some modest, unassuming way, and +that for her the morning may even yet be sweet with a glad warmth. +For us, here in these pages, it must be sufficient to say this last +kindly farewell.</p> + +<p>As to Lucius Mason and the arrangement of his affairs with his +step-brother a very few concluding words will suffice. When Joseph +Mason left the office of Messrs. Round and Crook he would gladly have +sacrificed all hope of any eventual pecuniary benefit from the +possession of Orley Farm could he by doing so have secured the +condign punishment of her who had so long kept him out of his +inheritance. But he soon found that he had no means of doing this. In +the first place he did not know where to turn for advice. He had +quarrelled absolutely with Dockwrath, and though he now greatly +distrusted the Rounds, he by no means put implicit trust in him of +Hamworth. Of the Rounds he suspected that they were engaged to serve +his enemy, of Dockwrath he felt sure that he was anxious only to +serve himself. Under these circumstances he was driven into the arms +of a third attorney, and learned from him, after a delay that cut him +to the soul, that he could take no further criminal proceeding +against Lady Mason. It would be impossible to have her even indicted +for the forgery,—seeing that two juries, at the interval of twenty +years, had virtually acquitted her,—unless new evidence which should +be absolute and positive in its kind should be forthcoming. But there +was no new evidence of any kind. The offer made to surrender the +property was no evidence for a jury whatever it might be in the mind +of the world at large.</p> + +<p>"And what am I to do?" asked Mason.</p> + +<p>"Take the goods the gods provide you," said the attorney. "Accept the +offer which your half-brother has very generously made you."</p> + +<p>"Generously!" shouted Mason of Groby.</p> + +<p>"Well, on his part it is generous. It is quite within his power to +keep it; and were he to do so no one would say he was wrong. Why +should he judge his mother?"</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Joseph Mason went to another attorney; but it was of no +avail. The time was passing away, and he learned that Lady Mason and +Lucius had actually started for Germany. In his agony for revenge he +had endeavoured to obtain some legal order that should prevent her +departure;—"ne exeat regno," as he repeated over and over again to +his advisers learned in the law. But it was of no avail. Lady Mason +had been tried and acquitted, and no judge would interfere.</p> + +<p>"We should soon have her back again, you know, if we had evidence of +forgery," said the last attorney.</p> + +<p>"Then, by ——! we will have her back again," said Mason.</p> + +<p>But the threat was vain; nor could he get any one even to promise him +that she could be prosecuted and convicted. And by degrees the desire +for vengeance slackened as the desire for gain resumed its sway. Many +men have threatened to spend a property upon a lawsuit who have +afterwards felt grateful that their threats were made abortive. And +so it was with Mr. Mason. After remaining in town over a month he +took the advice of the first of those new lawyers and allowed that +gentleman to put himself in communication with Mr. Furnival. The +result was that by the end of six months he again came out of +Yorkshire to take upon himself the duties and privileges of the owner +of Orley Farm.</p> + +<p>And then came his great fight with Dockwrath, which in the end ruined +the Hamworth attorney, and cost Mr. Mason more money than he ever +liked to confess. Dockwrath claimed to be put in possession of Orley +Farm at an exceedingly moderate rent, as to the terms of which he was +prepared to prove that Mr. Mason had already entered into a contract +with him. Mr. Mason utterly ignored such contract, and contended that +the words contained in a certain note produced by Dockwrath amounted +only to a proposition to let him the land in the event of certain +circumstances and results—which circumstances and results never took +place.</p> + +<p>This lawsuit Mr. Joseph Mason did win, and Mr. Samuel Dockwrath was, +as I have said, ruined. What the attorney did to make it necessary +that he should leave Hamworth I do not know; but Miriam, his wife, is +now the mistress of that lodging-house to which her own mahogany +furniture was so ruthlessly removed.</p> + + +<p><a name="c80" id="c80"></a> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4>CHAPTER LXXX.</h4> +<h3>SHOWING HOW AFFAIRS<br />SETTLED THEMSELVES AT NONINGSBY.<br /> </h3> + + +<p>We must now go back to Noningsby for one concluding chapter, and then +our work will be completed. "You are not to go away from Noningsby +when the trial is over, you know. Mamma said that I had better tell +you so." It was thus that Madeline had spoken to Felix Graham as he +was going out to the judge's carriage on the last morning of the +celebrated great Orley Farm case, and as she did so she twisted one +of her little fingers into one of his buttonholes. This she did with +a prettiness of familiarity, and the assumption of a right to give +him orders and hold him to obedience, which was almost intoxicating +in its sweetness. And why should she not be familiar with him? Why +should she not hold him to obedience by his buttonhole? Was he not +her own? Had she not chosen him and taken him up to the exclusion of +all other such choosings and takings?</p> + +<p>"I shall not go till you send me," he said, putting up his hand as +though to protect his coat, and just touching her fingers as he did +so.</p> + +<p>"Mamma says it will be stupid for you in the mornings, but it will +not be worse for you than for Augustus. He stays till after Easter."</p> + +<p>"And I shall stay till after Whitsuntide unless I am turned out."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but you will be turned out. I am not going to make myself +answerable for any improper amount of idleness. Papa says you have +got all the law courts to reform."</p> + +<p>"There must be a double Hercules for such a set of stables as that," +said Felix; and then with the slight ceremony to which I have before +adverted he took his leave for the day.</p> + +<p>"I suppose there will be no use in delaying it," said Lady Staveley +on the same morning as she and her daughter sat together in the +drawing-room. They had already been talking over the new engagement +by the hour, together; but that is a subject on which mothers with +marriageable daughters never grow tired, as all mothers and +marriageable daughters know full well.</p> + +<p>"Oh! mamma, I think it must be delayed."</p> + +<p>"But why, my love? Mr. Graham has not said so?"</p> + +<p>"You must call him Felix, mamma. I'm sure it's a nice name."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear, I will."</p> + +<p>"No; he has said nothing yet. But of course he means to wait +till,—till it will be prudent."</p> + +<p>"Men never care for prudence of that kind when they are really in +love;—and I'm sure he is."</p> + +<p>"Is he, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"He will marry on anything or nothing. And if you speak to him he +tells you of how the young ravens were fed. But he always forgets +that he's not a young raven himself."</p> + +<p>"Now you're only joking, mamma."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I'm quite in earnest. But I think your papa means to make up +an income for you,—only you must not expect to be rich."</p> + +<p>"I do not want to be rich. I never did."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will live in London, and then you can come down here +when the courts are up. I do hope he won't ever want to take a +situation in the colonies."</p> + +<p>"Who, Felix? Why should he go to the colonies?"</p> + +<p>"They always do,—the clever young barristers who marry before they +have made their way. That would be very dreadful. I really think it +would kill me."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mamma, he sha'n't go to any colony."</p> + +<p>"To be sure there are the county courts now, and they are better. I +suppose you wouldn't like to live at Leeds or Merthyr-Tydvil?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I shall live wherever he goes; but I don't know why you +should send him to Merthyr-Tydvil."</p> + +<p>"Those are the sort of places they do go to. There is young Mrs. +Bright Newdegate,—she had to go to South Shields, and her babies are +all dreadfully delicate. She lost two, you know. I do think the Lord +Chancellor ought to think about that. Reigate, or Maidstone, or +anywhere about Great Marlow would not be so bad." And in this way +they discussed the coming event and the happy future, while Felix +himself was listening to the judge's charge and thinking of his +client's guilt.</p> + +<p>Then there were two or three days passed at Noningsby of almost +unalloyed sweetness. It seemed that they had all agreed that Prudence +should go by the board, and that Love with sweet promises, and hopes +bright as young trees in spring, should have it all her own way. +Judge Staveley was a man who on such an occasion—knowing with whom +he had to deal—could allow ordinary prudence to go by the board. +There are men, and excellent men too, from whose minds the cares of +life never banish themselves, who never seem to remember that +provision is made for the young ravens. They toil and spin always, +thinking sternly of the worst and rarely hoping for the best. They +are ever making provision for rainy days, as though there were to be +no more sunshine. So anxious are they for their children that they +take no pleasure in them, and their fear is constant that the earth +will cease to produce her fruits. Of such was not the judge. "Dulce +est desipere in locis," he would say, "and let the opportunities be +frequent and the occasions many." Such a love-making opportunity as +this surely should be one.</p> + +<p>So Graham wandered about through the dry March winds with his future +bride by his side, and never knew that the blasts came from the +pernicious east. And she would lean on his arm as though he had been +the friend of her earliest years, listening to and trusting him in +all things. That little finger, as they stood together, would get up +to his buttonhole, and her bright frank eyes would settle themselves +on his, and then her hand would press closely upon his arm, and he +knew that she was neither ashamed nor afraid of her love. Her love to +her was the same as her religion. When it was once acknowledged by +her to be a thing good and trustworthy, all the world might know it. +Was it not a glory to her that he had chosen her, and why should she +conceal her glory? Had it been that some richer, greater man had won +her love,—some one whose titles were known and high place in the +world approved,—it may well be that then she would have been less +free with him.</p> + +<p>"Papa would like it best if you would give up your writing, and think +of nothing but the law," she said to him. In answer to which he told +her, with many compliments to the special fox in question, that story +of the fox who had lost his tail and thought it well that other foxes +should dress themselves as he was dressed.</p> + +<p>"At any rate papa looks very well without his tail," said Madeline +with somewhat of a daughter's pride. "But you shall wear yours all +the same, if you like it," she added with much of a young maiden's +love.</p> + +<p>As they were thus walking near the house on the afternoon of the +third or fourth day after the trial, one of the maids came to them +and told Madeline that a gentleman was in the house who wished to see +her.</p> + +<p>"A gentleman!" said Madeline.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Orme, miss. My lady told me to ask you up if you were anywhere +near."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must go," said Madeline, from whom all her pretty +freedom of manner and light happiness of face departed on the moment. +She had told Felix everything as to poor Peregrine in return for that +story of his respecting Mary Snow. To her it seemed as though that +had made things equal between them,—for she was too generous to +observe that though she had given nothing to her other lover, Felix +had been engaged for many months to marry his other love. But girls, +I think, have no objection to this. They do not desire first fruits, +or even early fruits, as men do. Indeed, I am not sure whether +experience on the part of a gentleman in his use of his heart is not +supposed by most young ladies to enhance the value of the article. +Madeline was not in the least jealous of Mary Snow; but with great +good nature promised to look after her, and patronise her when she +should have become Mrs. Albert Fitzallen. "But I don't think I should +like that Mrs. Thomas," she said.</p> + +<p>"You would have mended the stockings for her all the same."</p> + +<p>"O yes, I would have done that;—and so did Miss Snow. But I would +have kept my box locked. She should never have seen my letters."</p> + +<p>It was now absolutely necessary that she should return to the house, +and say to Peregrine Orme what words of comfort might be possible for +her. If she could have spoken simply with her heart, she would have +said much that was friendly, even though it might not be comfortable. +But it was necessary that she should express herself in words, and +she felt that the task was very difficult. "Will you come in?" she +said to Felix.</p> + +<p>"No, I think not. But he's a splendid fellow, and to me was a stanch +friend. If I can catch him as he comes out I will speak to him." And +then Madeline, with hesitating steps, with her hat still on her head, +and her gloves on her hands, walked through the hall into the +drawing-room. There she found her mother seated on the sofa, and +Peregrine Orme standing before her. Madeline walked up to him with +extended hand and a kindly welcome, though she felt that the colour +was high in her cheeks. Of course it would be impossible to come out +from such an interview as this without having confessed her position, +or hearing it confessed by her mother in her presence. That, however, +had been already done, and Peregrine knew that the prize was gone.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Miss Staveley?" said he. "As I am going to leave The +Cleeve for a long time, I have come over to say good-bye to Lady +Staveley—and to you."</p> + +<p>"Are you going away, Mr. Orme?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall go abroad,—to Central Africa, I think. It seems a wild +sort of place with plenty of animals to kill."</p> + +<p>"But isn't it very dangerous?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so. The people always come back alive. I've a sort +of idea that nothing will kill me. At any rate I couldn't stay here."</p> + +<p>"Madeline, dear, I've told Mr. Orme that you have accepted Mr. +Graham. With a friend such as he is I know that you will not be +anxious to keep this a secret."</p> + +<p>"No, mamma."</p> + +<p>"I was sure of that; and now that your papa has consented to it, and +that it is quite fixed, I am sure that it is better that he should +know it. We shall always look upon him as a very dear friend—if he +will allow us."</p> + +<p>Then it was necessary that Peregrine should speak, which he did as +follows, holding Madeline's hand for the first three or four seconds +of the time:—"Miss Staveley, I will say this of myself, that if ever +a fellow loved a girl truly, I loved you;—and I do so now as well or +better than ever. It is no good my pretending to be contented, and +all that sort of thing. I am not contented, but very unhappy. I have +never wished for but one thing in my life; and for that I would have +given all that I have in the world. I know that I cannot have it, and +that I am not fit to have it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Orme, it is not that."</p> + +<p>"But it is that. I knew you before Graham did, and loved you quite as +soon. I believe—though of course I don't mean to ask any +questions—but I believe I told you so before he ever did."</p> + +<p>"Marriages, they say, are planned in heaven," said Lady Staveley.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they are. I only wish this one had not been planned there. I +cannot help it,—I cannot express my satisfaction, though I will +heartily wish for your happiness. I knew from the first how it would +be, and was always sure that I was a fool to love you. I should have +gone away when I first thought of it, for I used to feel that you +never cared to speak to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed I did," said poor Madeline.</p> + +<p>"No, you did not. And why should you when I had nothing to say for +myself? I ought to have fallen in love with some foolish chit with as +little wit about her as I have myself."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will fall in love with some very nice girl," said Lady +Staveley; "and that we shall know her and love her very much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say I shall marry some day. I feel now as though I should +like to break my neck, but I don't suppose I shall. Good-bye, Lady +Staveley."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Mr. Orme; and may God send that you may be happy."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Madeline. I shall never call you so again,—except to +myself. I do wish you may be happy,—I do indeed. As for him,—he has +been before me, and taken away all that I wanted to win."</p> + +<p>By this time the tears were in his eyes, and his voice was not free +from their effect. Of this he was aware, and therefore, pressing her +hand, he turned upon his heel and abruptly left the room. He had been +unable to say that he wished also that Felix might be happy; but this +omission was forgiven him by both the ladies. Poor Madeline, as he +went, muttered a kind farewell, but her tears had mastered her also, +so that she could hardly speak.</p> + +<p>He went directly to the stables, there got upon his horse, and then +walked slowly down the avenue towards the gate. He had got the better +of that tear-compelling softness as soon as he found himself beyond +the presence of the girl he loved, and was now stern in his mood, +striving to harden his heart. He had confessed himself a fool in +comparison with Felix Graham; but yet,—he asked himself,—in spite +of that, was it not possible that he would have made her a better +husband than the other? It was not to his title or his estate that he +trusted as he so thought, but to a feeling that he was more akin to +her in circumstances, in ways of life, and in tenderness of heart. As +all this was passing through his mind, Felix Graham presented himself +to him in the road.</p> + +<p>"Orme," said he, "I heard that you were in the house, and have come +to shake hands with you. I suppose you have heard what has taken +place. Will you not shake hands with me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Peregrine, "I will not."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for that, for we were good friends, and I owe you much +for your kindness. It was a fair stand-up fight, and you should not +be angry."</p> + +<p>"I am angry, and I don't want your friendship. Go and tell her that I +say so, if you like."</p> + +<p>"No, I will not do that."</p> + +<p>"I wish with all my heart that we had both killed ourselves at that +bank."</p> + +<p>"For shame, Orme, for shame!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir; let it be for shame." And then he passed on, meaning +to go through the gate, and leaving Graham on the grass by the +road-side. But before he had gone a hundred yards down the road his +better feelings came back upon him, and he returned.</p> + +<p>"I am unhappy," he said, "and sore at heart. You must not mind what +words I spoke just now."</p> + +<p>"No, no; I am sure you did not mean them," said Felix, putting his +hand on the horse's mane.</p> + +<p>"I did mean them then, but I do not mean them now. I won't say +anything about wishes. Of course you will be happy with her. Anybody +would be happy with her. I suppose you won't die, and give a fellow +another chance."</p> + +<p>"Not if I can help it," said Graham.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you are to live, I don't wish you any evil. I do wish you +hadn't come to Noningsby, that's all. Good-bye to you." And he held +out his hand, which Graham took.</p> + +<p>"We shall be good friends yet, for all that is come and gone," said +Graham; and then there were no more words between them.</p> + +<p>Peregrine did as he said, and went abroad, extending his travels to +many wild countries, in which, as he used to say, any one else would +have been in danger. No danger ever came to him,—so at least he +frequently wrote word to his mother. Gorillas he slew by scores, +lions by hundreds, and elephants sufficient for an ivory palace. The +skins, and bones, and other trophies, he sent home in various ships; +and when he appeared in London as a lion, no man doubted his word. +But then he did not write a book, nor even give lectures; nor did he +presume to know much about the huge brutes he had slain, except that +they were pervious to powder and ball.</p> + +<p>Sir Peregrine had endeavoured to keep him at home by giving up the +property into his hands; but neither for grandfather, nor for mother, +nor for lands and money would he remain in the neighbourhood of +Noningsby. "No, mother," he said; "it will be better for me to be +away." And away he went.</p> + +<p>The old baronet lived to see him return, though with plaintive wail +he often declared to his daughter-in-law that this was impossible. He +lived, but he never returned to that living life which had been his +before he had taken up the battle for Lady Mason. He would sometimes +allow Mrs. Orme to drive him about the grounds, but otherwise he +remained in the house, sitting solitary over his fire,—with a book, +indeed, open before him, but rarely reading. He was waiting +patiently, as he said, till death should come to him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orme kept her promise, and wrote constantly to Lady +Mason,—hearing from her as constantly. When Lucius had been six +months in Germany, he decided on going to Australia, leaving his +mother for the present in the little German town in which they were +staying. For her, on the whole, the change was for the better. As to +his success in a thriving colony, there can be but little doubt.</p> + +<p>Felix Graham was soon married to Madeline; and as yet I have not +heard of any banishment either to Patagonia or to Merthyr-Tydvil.</p> + +<p>And now I may say, Farewell.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ORLEY FARM***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 23000-h.txt or 23000-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/0/0/23000">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/0/23000</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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/23000-h/images/frontis-a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/frontis-a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9703ff8 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/frontis-a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/frontis-a.jpg b/23000-h/images/frontis-a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d8ca5c --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/frontis-a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill02-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill02-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c257be --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill02-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill02.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..41d6a3f --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill02.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill05-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill05-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..619a44b --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill05-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill05.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill05.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed48d27 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill05.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill06-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill06-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4793105 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill06-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill06.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill06.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bad24ea --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill06.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill09-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill09-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ec66121 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill09-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill09.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill09.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..93184f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill09.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill11a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill11a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ae6347 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill11a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill11a.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill11a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac142f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill11a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill13-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill13-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0b47f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill13-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill13.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill13.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..369e9eb --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill13.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill14-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill14-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..450d73b --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill14-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill14.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill14.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ffe46b --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill14.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill17-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill17-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bcc9f8e --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill17-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill17.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill17.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..30a713a --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill17.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill18-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill18-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..18c7dee --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill18-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill18.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill18.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..066bb12 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill18.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5ac0c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22a.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..04a5503 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22b-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22b-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e4f353 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22b-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22b.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e07fd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22b.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22c-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22c-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7838ad3 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22c-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill22c.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill22c.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..30c1d25 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill22c.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill28-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill28-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..13d75bc --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill28-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill28.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill28.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e1b588 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill28.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill29-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill29-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..64bc27d --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill29-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill29.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill29.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e7581de --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill29.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill31-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill31-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e479ff --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill31-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill31.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill31.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..04fc7c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill31.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill33-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill33-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..02309ed --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill33-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill33.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill33.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad4837d --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill33.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill36-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill36-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0d9a6c --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill36-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill36.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill36.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2969594 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill36.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill37-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill37-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc66205 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill37-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill37.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill37.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f1da9e --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill37.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill39-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill39-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe588cd --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill39-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill39.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill39.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ebf690 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill39.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill42-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill42-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a61187 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill42-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill42.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill42.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..65183ae --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill42.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill44-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill44-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8746ef --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill44-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill44.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill44.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2590729 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill44.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill45-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill45-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f0291d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill45-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill45.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill45.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e480cd0 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill45.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill47-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill47-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72350b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill47-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill47.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill47.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cf6210 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill47.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill50-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill50-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5304f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill50-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill50.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill50.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..52b8e25 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill50.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill51-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill51-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..88dfe8b --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill51-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill51.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill51.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0db06d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill51.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill53-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill53-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..04bd12c --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill53-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill53.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill53.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c03e769 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill53.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill56-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill56-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac9c4bb --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill56-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill56.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill56.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..409f047 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill56.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill58-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill58-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e57a95f --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill58-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill58.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill58.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a019f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill58.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill59-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill59-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb51749 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill59-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill59.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill59.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c68c786 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill59.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill62-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill62-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8d2b28 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill62-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill62.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill62.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8fc2a35 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill62.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill64-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill64-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d345ac2 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill64-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill64.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill64.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de4f416 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill64.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill66a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill66a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..115e00a --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill66a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill66a.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill66a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4cfbf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill66a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill66b-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill66b-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2b90c9f --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill66b-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill66b.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill66b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..992414e --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill66b.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill70-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill70-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b336e36 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill70-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill70.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill70.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..09c319a --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill70.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill71a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill71a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c84411 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill71a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill71a.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill71a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bdd400 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill71a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill71b-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill71b-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b17a564 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill71b-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill71b.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill71b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e3d45a --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill71b.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill73-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill73-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c245ed --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill73-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill73.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill73.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e0508d --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill73.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill79a-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill79a-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7f5b03 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill79a-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill79a.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill79a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b051551 --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill79a.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill79b-t.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill79b-t.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a95a4f --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill79b-t.jpg diff --git a/23000-h/images/ill79b.jpg b/23000-h/images/ill79b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3e30da --- /dev/null +++ b/23000-h/images/ill79b.jpg |
